Once upon a time First Base used to get lots and lots of Christmas cards. My, how dim and distant this particular past suddenly looks. The salad days of New Labour when there was a quango for everything from the Methadone programme to anti social behaviour. I could easily have attended two meetings every single day, each and every one complete with a £20 a head budget for a finger buffet fit for Royalty.
Bloody hell. Asbos! The quango wallahs loved nothing more than to call a meeting to chew over the Asbo fat. Surely never in history have so many Vol -Au-Vents been consumed whilst fat has has been chewed to such pathetically little effect.
Anyway.
The point.
The civil servants tasked with heading up all those New Labour quangos were always furnished with a generous budget for Christmas cards and did they ever use it!
So we received stacks of cards and bugger all funding. Those who spent their days trying to starve us out for the crime of exposing inconvenient truths in the press were more than happy to use up a bit of their budget on wishing us a Happy Christmas.
Well, those days are very much a thing of the very distant past and the age austerity means barely a card lands on our mat any more.
I dare say it won't come as any surprise to hear we ain't exactly shedding bucket loads of tears.
So far this December, First Base has received a grand total of four cards.
Which is absolutely fine by us because we have received an overwhelming number of food and cash donations.
But one card was a very special card.
Oh yes.
First Base received a card from the Viceroy.
The Right Honourable Alister Jack MP, the Secretary of State for Scotland and our very own Colonial Master.
Now.
A spot of reality checking is very much in order here.
Has First Base received a card from the Viceroy as an official recognition from our lords and masters in the Imperial capital? Have these particular seasons greetings come from the very beating heart of the heart of the Empire!
Well, no, actually.
Instead all of my dealings with Alister have been entirely local. And they were particularly productive. Alister and his local team went out of their way to help two families First Base was supporting who were in imminent danger of feeling the full force of the Hostile Environment. One family was from Nigeria, one from Tunisia. Both were destitute and both faced the prospect of deportation to a fate worse than death.
Well Alister went out to bat for them and he saved their bacon and for that we will be forever grateful to him.
But things have changed somewhat. Moved on.
When our modern day version of Mad King George was installed on the throne in 2019, he appointed Alister as his Viceroy to rule over the five million pesky and disruptive subjects north of Hadrian's Wall.
And this is the context in which Alister's card dropped onto our mat.
And it duly got me thinking.
Because in a way it says a lot about where Imperial rule is sitting right now.
Imagine First Base was a wee charity in India in 1925.
Let's say in Nagpur.
A small charity managed by a very public follower of Mahatma Gandhi who was forever penning leaflets extolling the virtues of Indian Independence?
Would the aforesaid manager have received a Christmas Card from the Viceroy?
Not a chance. Instead he would have been beaten black and blue and imprisoned without trial.
It would have been the same story for a hypothetical charity manager in Nakuru in 1954 who was publicly backing the Mau Mau.
But add a few years onto each scenario and the story might have been rather different.
Lets say India 1946 and Kenya 1963.
By then, a very different picture had emerged and it was clear to every man and his dog Independence was only a matter of months away.
At this point I have no doubt the two Viceroys would have been frantically sending Christmas cards out to all an sundry in a desperate bid to curry a bit of favour for the future relationship between the soon to be ex Imperial power and it's soon to be ex subjects.
When John Mclean was packed off to Peterhead Prison to be ground into the dust for the crime of railing against tens of thousands of Scottish soldiers being fed into the meat grinder of the Western Front in the cause of defending the Empire, there would have been no chance of one of his supporters receiving a Christmas card from the Viceroy.
Instead, any supporter of John Mclean was more likely to join him up in Peterhead.
Well.
Things have changed.
Scottish Independence suddenly feels a lot more like 'when' than 'if'.
The last significant colony is slowly but surely slipping from London's grasp.
And a hard reality must be settling in. A hard reality which shines a light on a future world where this particular ex colony is home to the UK's nukes and the source of 20% of England's electricity.
Ouch.
Which means it is time to start making nice.
Just like it was in India in 1946. Just like it was in Kenya in 1963.
It's a time for Christmas cards rather than a rat infested cell in Peterhead jail of a bunk bed in a concentration camp in the shadow of Mount Kenya.
Am I reading rather too much into a single Christmas card from the Viceroy?
Probably. When all is said and done, I am a purveyor of pulp fiction so maybe you can embrace the festive spirit and give me a break.
The bigger question I guess is this.
Is Alister about to make like Lord Louis Mountbatton and Malcolm McDonald?
Not just the Viceroy, but the last Viceroy?
Maybe one day our Christmas card might just become something of a collector's item!
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