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BLACK MAN'S BURDEN
BY MACK REYNOLDS
Illustrated by Schoenherr
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact &Fiction December 1961 and January 1962. Extensive research did notuncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication wasrenewed.]
"Take up the white man's burden Send forth the best ye breed...." --Kipling
* * * * *
The turmoil in Africa is only beginning--and it must grow worse before it's better. Not until the people of Africa know they are Africans--not warring tribesmen--will there be peace....
I
The two-vehicle caravan emerged from the sandy wastes of the _erg_ andapproached the small encampment of Taitoq Tuareg which consisted ofseven goat leather tents. They were not unanticipated, the camp's scoutshad noted the strange pillars of high-flung dust which were set up bythe air rotors an hour earlier and for the past fifteen minutes they hadbeen visible to all.
Moussa-ag-Amastan, headman of the clan, awaited the newcomers at firstwith a certain trepidation in spite of his warrior blood. Although hehadn't expressed himself thus to his followers, his first opinion hadbeen that the unprecedented pillars were djinn come out of the erg forno good purpose. It wasn't until they were quite close that it could beseen the vehicles bore resemblance to those of the Rouma which were ofrecent years spreading endlessly through the lands of the Ahaggar Tuaregand beggaring those who formerly had conducted the commerce of theSahara.
But the vehicles traveling through the sand dunes! That had been thelast advantage of the camel. No wheeled vehicle could cross the vaststretches of the ergs, they must stick to the hard ground, to thetire-destroying gravel.
They came to a halt and Moussa-ag-Amastan drew up his teguelmoustturban-veil even closer about his eyes. He had no desire to let thenewcomers witness his shocked surprise at the fact that the desertlorries had no wheels, floated instead without support, and now thatthey were at a standstill settled gently to earth.
There was further surprise when the five who issued forth from the twoseemingly clumsy vehicles failed to be Rouma. They looked more like theTeda to the south, and the Targui's eyes thinned beneath histeguelmoust. Since the French had pulled out their once dreaded CamelCorps there had been somewhat of a renaissance of violence betweentraditional foes.
However, the newcomers, though dark as Negro Bela slaves, wore Tuaregdress, loose baggy trousers of dark indigo-blue cotton cloth, a loose,nightgownlike white cotton shirt, and over this a _gandoura_ outergarment. Above all, they wore the teguelmoust though they wereshockingly lax in keeping it properly up about the mouth.
Moussa-ag-Amastan knew that he was backed by ten or more of hisclansmen, half of whom bore rifles, the rest Tuareg broadswords,Crusader-like with their two edges, round points and flat rectangularcross-members. Only two of the strangers seemed armed and theynegligently bore their smallish guns in the crooks of their arms. Theclan leader spoke at strength, then, but he said the traditional "_Labas_."
"There is no evil," repeated the foremost of the newcomers. His Tamabeq,the Berber language of the Tuareg confederations, seemed perfect.
Moussa-ag-Amastan said, "What do you do in the lands of the TaitoqTuareg?"
The stranger, a tall, handsome man with a dominating though pleasantpersonality, indicated the vehicles with a sweep of his hand. "We areEnaden, itinerant smiths. As has ever been our wont, we travel fromencampment to encampment to sell our products and to make repair uponyour metal possessions."
Enaden! The traveling smiths of the Ahaggar, and indeed of the wholeSahara, were a despised and ragged lot at best. Few there were that everpossessed more than a small number of camels, a sprinkling of goats,perhaps a sheep or two. But these seemed as rich as Roumas, as Europeansor Americans.
Moussa-ag-Amastan muttered, "You jest with us at your peril, stranger."He pointed an aged but still strong hand at the vehicles. "Enaden do notown such as these."
The newcomer shrugged. "I am Omar ben Crawf and these are my followers,Abrahim el Bakr Ma el Ainin, Keni Ballalou and Bey-ag-Akhamouk. We cometoday from Tamanrasset and we are smiths, as we can prove. As is known,there is high pay to be earned by working in the oil fields, at the damson the Niger, in the afforestation projects, in the sinking of the newwells whose pumps utilize the rays of the sun, in the developing of thegreat new oases. There is much Rouma money to be made in such work andmy men and I have brought these vehicles specially built in the newfactories in Dakar for desert use."
"Slave work!" one of Moussa-ag-Amastan's kinsmen sneered.
Omar ben Crawf shrugged in obvious amusement, but there was a warmth andvitality in the man that quickly affected even strangers. "Perhaps," hesaid. "But times change, as every man knows and today there no longerneed be hunger, nor illness, nor any want--if a man will but work afraction of each day."
"Work is for slaves," Moussa-ag-Amastan barked.
The newcomer refused to argue. "But all slaves have been freed, andwhere in the past this meant nothing since the Bela had no place to go,no way to live save with his owner, today it is different and any mancan go and find work on the many projects that grow everywhere. So theslaves slip away from the Tuareg, and the Teda and Chaamba. Soon therewill be no more slaves to do the work about your encampments. And thenwhat, man of the desert?"
"We'll fight!" Moussa-ag-Amastan growled. "We Tuareg are warriors,bedouin, free men. We will never be slaves."
"_Inshallah._ If God wills it," the smith agreed politely.
"Show us your wares," the old chieftain snapped. "We chatter like women.Talk can wait until the evening meal and in the men's quarters of mytent." He approached the now parked vehicles and his followers crowdedafter him. From the tents debouched women and children. The childrenwere completely nude, and the Tuareg women were unveiled for such arethe customs of the Ahaggar Tuareg that the men go veiled but women donot.
* * * * *
One of the lorries was so constructed that a side could be raised insuch fashion to display a wide variety of tools, weapons, householdutensils, and textiles. Ohs and ahs punctuated the air, women being thesame in every land. Two of the smiths brought forth metal-workingequipment of strange design and set up shop to one side. A broken bolton an aged Lebel rifle was quickly repaired, a copper cooking potbrazed, some harness tinkered with.
Of a sudden, Moussa-ag-Amastan said, "But your women, your families,where are they?"
The one who had been introduced as Abrahim el Bakr, an open-faced manwhose constant smiling seemed to take a full ten years off what musthave been his age, explained. "On the big projects, one can findemployment only if he allows his children to attend the new schools. Soour wives and children remain near Tamanrasset while the children learnthe lore of books."
"Rouma schools!" one of the warriors sneered.
"Oh, no. There are few Roumas remaining in all the land now," the smithsaid easily. "Those that are left serve us in positions our people asyet cannot hold, in construction of the dams, in the bringing of treesto the desert, but soon, even they will be unneeded."
"_Our_ people?" Moussa-ag-Amastan rumbled ungraciously. "You are smiths.The smiths have no people. You are neither Kel Rela, Tegehe Mellet,Taitoq, nor even Teda, Chaambra, or Ouled Tidrarin."
One of the smiths said easily, "In the great new construction camps, inthe new towns, with their many ways to work and become rich, the tribesare breaking up. Tuareg works next to Teda and a Moor next to a formerHaratin serf." He added, as though unthinkingly, even as he displayed analuminum pan to a wide-eyed Tuareg
matron, "Indeed, even the clans breakup and often Tuareg marries Arab or Sudanese or Rifs down from thenorth ... or even we Enaden."
The clansmen were suddenly silent, in shocked surprise.
"That cannot be true!" the elderly chief snapped.
Omar ben Crawf looked at him mildly. "Why should my follower lie?"
"I do not know, but we will talk of it later, away from the women andchildren who should not hear such abominations." The chief switchedsubjects. "But you have no flocks with you. How are we to pay for thesethings, these services?"
"With money."
The old man's face, what little could be seen through his teguelmoust,darkened. "We have little money in the Ahaggar."
The one named Omar nodded. "But we are short of meat and will buyseveral goats and perhaps a lamb, a chicken, eggs. Then, too, as youhave noted, we have left our women at home. We will need the services ofcooks, some one to bring water. We will hire servants."
The other said gruffly, "There are some Bela who will serve you."
The smith seemed taken aback. "Verily, El Hassan has stated that theproduct of the labor of the slave is accursed."
"El Hassan! Who is El Hassan and why should the work of a slave beaccursed?"
One of the tribesmen said, "I have heard of this El Hassan. Rumors ofhis teachings spread through the land. He is to lead us all, Tuareg,Arab and Sudanese, until we are all as rich as Roumas."
Omar said, "It is well known that the Roumas and especially theAmericans are all rich as Emirs but none of them ever possess slaves.The bedouin have slaves but fail to prosper. Verily, the product of thelabor of the slave is accursed."
"Madness," Moussa-ag-Amastan muttered. "If you do not let our slavewomen do your tasks, then they will remain undone. No Tuareg woman willwork."
* * * * *
But the headman of his clan was wrong.
The smiths remained four days in all, and the abundance of theirproducts was too much. What verbal battles might have taken place in thetent of Moussa-ag-Amastan, and in those of his followers, the smithscouldn't know, but Tuareg women are not dominated by their men. On thesecond day, three Tuareg women applied for the position of servants, atsurprisingly high pay. Envy ran roughshod when they later displayed thetextiles and utensils they purchased with their wages.
Nor could the aged Tuareg chief prevent in the evening discussionsbetween the men, a thorough pursuing of the new ideas sweeping throughthe Ahaggar. Though these strangers proclaimed themselves lowlyEnaden--itinerant desert smiths--they were obviously not to be dismissedas a caste little higher than Haratin serfs. Even the first night theywere invited to the tent of Moussa-ag-Amastan to share the dinner ofshorba soup, cous cous and the edible paste _kaboosh_, made of cheese,butter and spices. It was an adequate desert meal, meat being eaten notmore than a few times a year by such as the Taitoq Tuareg who couldn'tafford to consume the animals upon which they lived.
After mint tea, one of the younger Tarqui leaned forward. He said, "Youhave brought strange news, oh Enaden of wealth, and we would know more.We of the Ahaggar hear little from outside."
Moussa-ag-Amastan scowled at his clansman, for his presumption, but Omaranswered, his voice sincere and carrying conviction. "The world movesfast, men of the desert, and the things that were verily true evenyesterday, have changed today."
"To the sorrow of the Tuareg!" snapped Moussa-ag-Amastan.
The other looked at him. "Not always, old one. Surely in your youth youremember when such diseases as the one the Roumas once called thedisease of Venus, ran rampant through the tribes. When trachoma, thesickness of the eyes, was known as the scourge of the Sahara. When halfthe children, not only of Bela slaves and Haratin serfs, but also of theSurgu noble clans, died before the age of ten."
"Admittedly, the magic of the Roumas cured many such ills," an olderwarrior growled.
"Not their magic, their learning," the smith named El Ma el Ainin putin. "And, verily, now the schools are open to all the people."
"Schools are not for such as the Bela and Haratin," the clan chiefprotested. "The Koran should not be taught to slaves."
El Ma el Ainin said gently, "The Koran is not taught at all in the newschools, old one. The teachings of the Prophet are still made known tothose interested, in the schools connected with the mosques, but onlythe teachings of science are made in the new schools."
"The teachings of the Rouma!" a Tuareg protested, carefully slipping hisglass of tea beneath his teguelmoust so that he could drink without hismouth being obscenely revealed.
Omar ben Crawf laughed. "That is what we have allowed the Roumas to haveus believe for much too long," he stated. "El Hassan has provenotherwise. Much of the wisdom of science has its roots in the lands ofAsia and of Africa. The Roumas were savages in skins while the earliestcivilizations were being developed in Africa and Asia Minor. Hardly ascience now developed by the Roumas of Europe and America but had itsbeginning with us." He turned to the elderly chief.
"You Tuareg are of Berber background. But a few centuries ago, theBerbers of Morocco, known as the Moors to the Rouma, leavened only witha handful of Jews and Arabs, built up in Spain the highest civilizationin all the world of that time. We would be foolish, we of Africa, togive credit to the Rouma for so much of what our ancestors presented tothe world."
The Tuareg were astonished. They had never heard such words.
Moussa-ag-Amastan was not appeased. "You sound like a Rouma, yourself,"he said. "Where have you learned of all this?"
The smiths chuckled their amusement.
Abrahim el Bakr said, "Verily, old one, have you ever seen a blackRouma?"
Omar ben Crawf, the headman of the smiths, went on. "El Hassan hasproclaimed great new beliefs that spread through all North Africa, andeventually, _Inshallah_, throughout the continent. Through his greatlearning he has assimilated the wisdom of all the prophets, all thewisemen of all the world, and proclaims their truths."
The Tuareg chief was becoming increasingly irritated. Such talk as thiswas little short of blasphemy to his ears, but the fascination of thediscussion was beyond him to ignore. And he knew that even if he did hisyoung men, in particular, would only seek out the strangers on their ownand then he would not be present to mitigate their interest. In spite ofhimself, now he growled, "What beliefs? What truths? I know not of thisEl Hassan of whom you speak."
Omar said slowly, "Among them, the teachings of a great wise man from afar land. That all men should be considered equal in the eyes of societyand should have equal right to life, liberty and the pursuit ofhappiness."
"Equal!" one of the warriors ejaculated. "This is not wisdom, butnonsense. No two men are equal."
Omar waggled a finger negatively. "Like so many, you fail to explore theteaching. Obviously, no man of wisdom would contend that all men areequally tall, or strong, or wise, or cunning, nor even fortunate. _No_two men are equal in such regards. But all men should have equal rightto life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, whatever that might meanto him as an individual."
One of the Tuareg said slyly, "And the murderer of one of your kinsmen,should he, too, have life and liberty, in the belief of El Hassan?"
"Obviously, the community must protect itself against those who woulddestroy the life or liberty of others. The murderer of a kinsman ofmine, as well as any other man, myself included, should be subjectequally to the same law."
It was a new conception to members of a tribal society such as that ofthe Ahaggar Tuareg. They stirred under both its appeal and its negationof all they knew. A man owed alliance to his immediate family, to hisclan, his tribe, then to the Tuareg confederation--in decreasing degree.Beyond that, all were enemies, as all men knew.
One protested slowly, seeking out his words, "Your El Hassan preachesthis equality, but surely the wiser man and the stronger man will soonfind his way to the top in any land, in any tribe, even in the nationsof the Rouma."
Omar shrugged. "Who could contend otherwise?
But each man should be freeto develop his own possibilities, be they strength of arm or of brain.Let no man exploit another, nor suppress another's abilities. If a Belaslave has more ability than a Surgu Tuareg noble, let him profit to thefull by his gifts."
There was a cold silence.
Omar finished gently by saying, "Or so El Hassan teaches, and so theyteach in the new schools in Tamanrasset and Gao, in Timbuktu and Reggan,in the big universities at Kano, Dakar, Bamako, Accra and Abidian. Andthroughout North Africa the wave of the future flows over the land."
"It is a flood of evil," Moussa-ag-Amastan said definitely.
* * * * *
But in spite of the antagonism of the clan headman and of the olderTuareg warriors, the stories of the smiths continued to spread. It wasnot even beyond them to discuss, long and quietly, with the Bela slavesthe ideas of the mysterious El Hassan, and to talk of the plentifuljobs, the high wages, at the dams, the new oases, and in theafforestation projects.
Somehow the news of their presence spread, and another clan of nomadTuareg arrived and pitched their tents, to handle the wares of thesmiths and to bring their metal work for repair. And to listen to theirdisturbing words.
As amazing as any of the new products was the solar powered, portabletelevision set which charged its batteries during the daylight hours andthen flashed on its screen the images and the voices and music ofentertainers and lecturers, teachers and storytellers, for all to see.In the beginning it had been difficult, for the eye of the desert man isnot trained to pick up a picture. He has never seen one, and would notrecognize his own photograph. But in time, it came to them.
The programs originated in Tamanrasset and in Salah, in Zinder and FortLamy and one of the smiths revealed that the mysterious waves, that fedthe device its programs, were bounced off tiny moons which the Rouma hadrocketed up into the sky for that purpose. A magic understandable onlyto marabouts and such, without doubt.
At the end of their period of stay, the smiths, to the universalsurprise of all, gave the mystery device to two sisters, kinswomen ofMoussa-ag-Amastan, who were particularly interested in the teachers andlecturers who told of the new world aborning. The gift was made in thefull understanding that all should be allowed to listen and watch, andit was clear that if ever the set needed repair it was to be leftuntinkered with and taken to Tamanrasset or the nearest largersettlement where it would be fixed free of charge.
There were many strange features about the smiths, as each man couldsee. Among others, were their strange weapons. There had been some softwhispered discussion among the warriors in the first two days of theirstay about relieving the strangers of their obviously desirablepossessions--after all, they weren't kinsmen, not even Tuareg. But onthe second day, the always smiling one named Abrahim el Bakr had been onthe outskirts of the _erg_ when a small group of gazelle were flushed.The graceful animals took off at a prohibitive rifle range, as usual,but Abrahim el Bakr had thrown his small, all but tiny weapon to hisshoulder and _flic flic flic_, with a sound no greater than the crackingof a ground nut, had knocked over three of them before the others haddisappeared around a dune.
Obviously, the weapons of the smiths were as great as their learning andtheir new instruments. It was discouraging to a raider by instinct.
Then, too, there was the strangeness of the night talks their leader wasknown to have with his secret _Kambu_ fetish which was able to answerhim in a squeaky but distinct voice in some unknown tongue, obviously alanguage of the djinn. The _Kambu_ was worn on a strap on Omar's wrist,and each night at a given hour he was wont to withdraw to his tent andthere confer.
On the fourth night, obviously, he was given instruction by the _Kambu_for in the morning, at first light, the smiths hurriedly packed, brokecamp, made their good-byes to Moussa-ag-Amastan and the others and wereoff.
Moussa-ag-Amastan was glad to see them go. They were quite the mostdisturbing element to upset his people in many seasons. He wondered atthe advisability of making their usual summer journey to the Tuaregsedentary centers. He had a feeling that if the clan got near enough tosuch centers as Zinder to the south, or Touggourt to the north, therewould be wholesale desertion of the Bela, and, for that matter, even ofsome of his younger warriors and their wives.
However, there was no putting off indefinitely exposure to this danger.Even in such former desert centers as Tessalit and In Salah, theirrigation projects were of such magnitude that there was a great laborshortage. But always, of course, as the smiths had said, if you workedat the projects your children must needs attend the schools. And thatway lay disaster!
The five smiths took out overland in the direction of Djanet on theborder of what had once been known as Libya and famed for its cliffswhich tower over twenty-five hundred feet above the town. Their solarpowered, air cushion, hover-lorries, threw up their clouds of dust andsand to right and left, but they made good time over the _erg_. A goodhovercraft driver could do much to even out a rolling landscape,changing his altitude from a few inches here to as much as twenty-fivefeet there, given, of course, enough power in his solar batteries,although that was little problem in this area where clouds weresometimes not seen for years on end.
This was back of the beyond, the wasteland of earth. Only the interiorof the Arabian peninsula and the Gobi could compete and, of course, eventhe Gobi was beginning to be tamed under the afforestation efforts ofthe teeming multitudes of China who had suffered its disastrous stormsdown through the millennia.
* * * * *
Omar checked and checked again with the instrument on his wrist, askingand answering, his voice worried.
Finally they pulled up beside a larger than usual wadi and Omar benCrawf stared thoughtfully out over it. The one they had named Abrahim elBakr stood beside him and the others slightly to the rear.
Abrahim el Bakr nodded, for once his face unsmiling. "Those cats'll comedown here," he said. "Nothing else would make sense, not even to anEgyptian."
"I think you're right," Omar growled. He said over his shoulder, "Bey,get the trucks out of sight, over that dune. Elmer, you and Kenny setthe gun up over there. Solid slugs, and try to avoid their cargo. Wedon't want to set off a Fourth of July here. Bey, when you're finishedwith the trucks, take that Tommy-Noiseless of yours and flank them fromover behind those rocks. Take a couple of clips extra, for goodluck--you won't need them, though."
"How many are there supposed to be?" Abrahim el Bakr asked, his voiceempty of humor now.
"Eight half-trucks, two armed jeeps, or land-rovers, one or the other.Probably about forty men, Abe."
"All armed," Abe said flatly.
"Um-m-m. Listen, that's them coming. Right down the _wadi_. Get goingmen. Abe, you cover me."
Abe Bakr looked at him. "Wha'd'ya mean, cover you, man? You slipped allthe way round the bend? Listen, let me plant a couple quick land minesto stop 'em and we'll get ourselves behind these rocks and blast thosecats half way back to Cairo."
"We'll warn them as per orders."
"Crazy man, like you're the boss, Homer," Abe growled. "But why'd I everleave New Jersey?" He made his way to the right, to the top of thewadi's bank and behind a clump of thorny bush. He made himselfcomfortable, the light Tommy-Noiseless with its clip of two hundred .10caliber, ultra-high velocity shells resting before him on a flat rockoutcropping. He thoughtfully flicked the selector to the explosive sideof the clip. Let Homer Crawford say what he would about not setting offa Fourth of July, but if he needed covering in the moments to come, he'dneed it bad.
The chips were down now.
The convoy, the motors growling their protests of the hard going evenhere at the gravel bottomed wadi river bed, made its way toward them ata pace of approximately twenty kilometers per hour.
The lead jeep--Skoda manufacture, Homer Crawford noted cynically--wassome thirty meters in advance. It drew to a halt upon seeing him and aturbaned Arab Union trooper swung a Brenn gun in his direction.
&nbs
p; An officer stood up in the jeep and yelled at Crawford in Arabic.
The American took a deep breath and said in the same language, "You'reout of your own territory."
The officer's face went poker-expressionless. He looked at the lonefigure, dressed in the garb of the Tuareg, even to the turban-veil whichcovers all but the eyes of these notorious Apaches of the Sahara.
"This is no affair of yours," the lieutenant said. "Who are you?"
Homer Crawford said very clearly, "Sahara Division, African DevelopmentProject, Reunited Nations. You're far out of your own territory,lieutenant. I'll have to report you, and also to demand that you turnand go back to your origin."
The lieutenant flicked his hand, and the trooper behind the Brenn gunsighted the weapon and tightened his trigger finger.
Crawford dropped to the ground and rolled desperately for a slightdepression that would provide cover. He could have saved himself theresultant bruises and scratches. Before the Brenn gun spoke even once,there was a _Goetterdammerung_ of sound and the three occupants of thejeep, driver, lieutenant and gunner were swept from the vehicle in anauseating obscenity of exploding flesh, uniform cloth, blood and bone.
To the side, Abe Bakr behind his thorn bush and rock vantage pointturned the barrel of his Tommy-Noiseless to the first of the halftracks. Already Arab Union troopers were debouching from them, somefiring at random and at unseen targets. However, the so-called Enadensmiths were well concealed, their weapons silenced except for theexplosion of the tiny shells upon reaching their target.
It wasn't much of a fight. The recoilless automatic rifle manned byElmer Allen and Kenny Ballalou swept the wadi, swept it of life, atleast, but hardly swept it clean. What few individuals were left, inwhat little shelter was to be found in the dry river's bottom, werepicked off easily, if not neatly by the high velocity automatics in thehands of Abe Bakr and Bey-ag-Akhamouk.
Afterwards, the five of them, standing at the side of the wadi, stareddown at their work.
Elmer Allen muttered a bitter four-letter obscenity. He had once headeda pacifist group at the University in Kingston, Jamaica. Now his teethwere bared, as they always were when he went into action. He hated it.
Of them all, Bey-ag-Ahkamouk was the least moved by the slaughter. Hegrumbled, "Guns, explosives, mortar, flame throwers. If there isanything in the world my people don't need in the way of _aid_, it'sweapons."
"Our people," Homer Crawford said absently, his eyes--taking in thescene beneath them--empty, as though unseeing. He hated the need forkilling, almost as badly as did Elmer Allen.
Bey looked at him, scowling slightly, but said nothing. There had beenmild rebuke in his leader's voice.
"Well," Abe Bakr said with a tone of mock finality in his voice, asthough he was personally wiping his hands of the whole affair, "how areyou going to explain all this jazz to headquarters, man?"
Homer said flatly, "We were attacked by this unidentified group of, ah,gun runners, from some unknown origin. We defended ourselves, to thebest of our ability."
Elmer Allen looked at the once human mess below them. "We certainlydid," he muttered, scowling.
"Crazy man," Abe said, nodding his agreement to the alibi.
The others didn't bother to speak. Homer Crawford's unit was well knit.
He said after a moment. "Abe, you and Kenny get some dynamite and plantit in this wadi wall in a few spots. We'll want to bury this whole mess.It wouldn't do for someone to come along and blow himself up on some ofthese scattered land mines, or find himself a bazooka or something touse on his nearest blood-feud neighbor."