The Independence Problem
By The Other Terrence Oblong
Fri, 01 Jul 2016
- 898 reads
3 comments
1 likes
I was there at the count on the historic day that Happy Island voted for independence from the mainland.
“Votes for Leaving the mainland and becoming an independent island state,” the mainland council official had said: “Two.”
“Votes for Staying as an inferior, overlooked, nay hated, minor island under the thrall of mainland dominion,” (it had been Alun who had drafted the text of the referendum), “Nil”.
“I hereby declare the Leave vote successful and Happy Island an independent state.”
Alun made a great scene of demanding that the mainland officials show him their passports before being allowed to leave, laughing at their photos and making them remove their shoes ‘as a security check’.
“We’re finally in charge, Jed,” Alun said, “I can do anything I want without having to get clearance from the mainland council.”
“Well I’m glad you’re happy,” I said. “Personally, although I voted leave, I don’t think it will make any difference either way. We’ll still need to follow mainland rules if we want to trade with them.”
“Nonsense, Jed. We’re an important island, we’ll be able to negotiate a trade deal on favourable terms.”
However, the next morning when we went down to meet the morning boat, the Boatman refused to sell us our usual provisions. “I’m not allowed to sell to you,” he said, “I can only trade with mainlanders. Your currency isn’t legal tender any more.”
“But the Happy Island Monetary Unit has been legal tender ever since ancestors held the Governor of the Bank of Mainland hostage several centuries ago,” Alun said.
“Well it’s not any more. When you voted for independence you lost the right to use the HIMU, you’ll have to pay for things with mainland pounds.”
Luckily I had a few mainland pounds left over from a previous adventure (see The Problem that ends with Jed being left with a few mainland pounds left over Problem). “Well I’ve got enough for a packet of Columbian coffee, at least,” I said. “I can’t survive without my coffee.”
“You’ll have to, I’m afraid,” the Boatman said, “I’m not licenced to trade in psychoactive substances to off-mainlanders.”
“But you’ve always sold us coffee.”
“Not any more.”
The Boatman left, without selling us a single item of provision.
“We should have listened to the Stay campaign,” I said to Alun, “He said this would happen.” Though Alun and myself are the only residents of Happy Island, and consequently the only voters in the referendum, Alun’s parrot Eddie Blizzard is a renowned mainlandophile, and campaigned vigorously for us to remaIN part of the mainland, in an annoyingly squawky parrot voice.
“Nonsense Jed, that’s just scaremongering.”
“It’s not scaremongering, it’s actually just happened to us,” I said. “I just tried to buy coffee and I couldn’t.”
“We don’t need the mainland and their sales of coffee,” Alun said confidently, “We’ve got other nations queuing up to trade with us, so that’s what we’ll do.”
The next morning, I was woken early by an unexpected banging on my back door.
I quickly dressed and rushed downstairs to find Alun and three strangers. “What is it?” I asked. “It’s barely six in the morning. This had better be important.”
“It is important Jed, these are the ambassadors from Columbia, Brazil and Chile.”
I subtly dragged Alun to one side. “Why have you brought these people here?” I said.
“To negotiate trade agreements, Jed.”
“Trade agreements?”
“So we can buy their coffee. That way we can cut out trade with the mainland, go straight to the supplier.”
“Do we really need a trade agreement just to buy coffee? We only get through one packet a month; it seems a lot of unnecessary work.”
“Not one, Jed,” Alun corrected me, “Three. They’ll all need separate agreements.”
“That’ll take ages.”
I was proved right. Negotiations ran on late into the night. The worst thing was we didn’t even have any coffee to keep us going. Eventually we finally agreed terms to trade with Brazil and Columbia, though Chile proved tough negotiators and it was agreed to reconvene in a month’s time.
I finally got to bed late, well after my normal 11.00 pm curfew. I had hoped to have a long lie in, but was surprised to be woken at barely six in the morning by a hammering on my back door. I rushed downstairs to find Alun and three strange men.
“What is it this time?” I asked.
“It’s the Australian, Danish and Belgian ambassadors, Jed. They’re here to discuss trade agreements.”
“What on Earth would we want to trade with Denmark, Belgium and Australia?”
“Beer, Jed. We can no longer buy the beer from the mainland, it comes under the psychoactive substances restrictions.”
“Australian beer! Have you ever tasted it?”
“Of course I have Jed, which is why the agreement will state that whatever else they sell us they will never attempt to flog their disgusting lager.”
It wasn’t just coffee and beer we had to negotiate deals in, it was EVERYTHING. Every single item we ever brought needed a corresponding trade agreement. The negotiations lasted months, during which time I hardly slept, trade discussions would last late into the night and the next morning I would be woken early to begin the next round of trade talks. The worst thing was, because we were so tired from negotiations and lacking in negotiating skill, we got very bad deals, the price of everything went through the roof, including the cost of getting the roof fixed!
I was consequently unsurprised to be woken early one morning by a hammering on my back door. I quickly dressed and trudged downstairs, to find Alun, alone, without a single ambassador.
“What is it?” I asked wearily.
“It’s the mainland, Jed. It’s left itself.”
“It’s left itself?”
“Yes, Jed. They had a referendum. They got bored of being their own boss and decided to declare themselves independent from themselves.”
“So what does that mean?”
“It means that as a similarly independent island, we can join the mainland as a union of newly independent lands.”
“Isn’t that what we were?”
“No Jed, we used to have a completely different name. We are now officially the Union of NIL. It means no more trade negotiations, we can go back to buying things from the Boatman like we used to. The Happy Island Monetary Unit is legal tender again.”
I joined Alun’s celebrations, but couldn’t help thinking that for all his talk of a great new future, all we’d done by voting for independence was waste everyone’s time and money, as within a few months we were back with the mainland as if nothing had changed.
- Log in to post comments
Comments
Nice to see a happy ending
Permalink Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on
Nice to see a happy ending for at least one island! This is our Facebook and Twitter Pick of the Day.Get a fantastic reading recommendation everyday
Picture Credit:http://tinyurl.com/zxsvp67
- Log in to post comments
Your story made me smile, -
Permalink Submitted by Philip Sidney on
Your story made me smile, - what ridiculous creatures we humans are.
- Log in to post comments