Last thoughts on the Noble Laborer

            “And what of your noble laborer?”

            My breath stopped.  I had not thought of P’att for several days.  But to my surprise, I felt no anger at him.  My lasting vision of him—or, that is, the one that came to mind first—was not of P’att standing over Ma’t’s battered body, but the sad man, crippled in the street, begging my forgiveness.  I did not like his crime; I could never excuse it.  But the battle was over.  When the dust settled, how many Ilepyans would find blood on their hands?  I would have to forgive them as well to go on living in this city, because they were my brothers.  In fact, I began to feel as though I already had.  Making amends with a former criminal did not excuse their crimes any more than making friends with a former enemy justified their hatred.  Perhaps P’att had not been the man I thought he was, but that was no more his doing than mine.  I had ascribed characteristics to him, equated him with a fable, and refused to see him as a human being, capable of flaws.

            “While P’att was not the noble laborer, but he was a special man whom I loved and took into my home.  He is alienated from me now, but were our paths to cross again, I would treat him to a new shirt and give him a meal, just as I would any other Ilepyan in need.”

Ma't on personal liberty

            To my luck, Ma’t was not occupied at the moment, but welcomed me into his chamber with a “Fe’n, my boy!  Let you come and be seated!”  I positioned myself on the stool as usual.  “What has brought you to me this fine afternoon?”  The old man asked.

            “I have quarreled with my brothers once again, although I suppose that is nothing new.”

            “No, of course not!  It means to me that all is right with the world.  Let you always seek to be in conflict with those two!”

            “Yes, well this afternoon a letter has come from Sirlay, and they read it aloud to me.  I care very little for what he has to say, but they continue to insist that I am ignorant merely for disagreeing with them.”

            “Ah, but that is always the way, my boy,” the priest rasped.  “Those who have spent their lives in pursuit of vain knowledge think themselves superior to all others.  It is the way they must be; if they do not diminish you for being like them, their pursuits will have become purposeless.”

            “I suppose that is so, for I hate the disdain with which they describe the Hihaythean people.  I know that we Hihaytheans are good, noble people who follow the Iqharepur in all things.  Yet to Yhako and Ansidrion, the Hihaytheans are foolish things, poor, directionless souls.”

            Ma’t frowned.  “Tell me, my boy.  What is it that they have said?”

            So I recounted to Ma’t the conversation I had overheard between my brothers about the need for a Hihaythean awakening.  “How can they wish for a content people to realize their anger?  If we are happy, why would they trouble this?”

            “Your brothers are, indeed, quite foolish.  The people do not need to be awoken from this slumber.”

            “That is exactly as I felt.  We are merely content.  Why must they insist that we must be asleep merely because we disagree with them?”

            “The people do not need to be awoken to any such disagreement!  They do not need to learn from your brothers; it is the role of the people to be humbly led.”

            “Led?”  I asked.

            “Yes, led.  It is my task, as given from God, to direct the people away from wrong.  Men like your brothers have interfered with this task, by complicating the public mind and sowing dissent.  When uppity men like them offer so many choices, it is only natural that the people will drift down the wrong path.”

            “But why can the people not be given choices?  If our way is the correct way—and I believe that it is—should most people not choose it if let to their own devices?”

            “Perhaps they should, Fe’n, but they will not.  There are too many corrupt forces; too many men who are eager to deceive the people away from our faith.”

            “Then we should educate them.  If the people can be so easily deceived, we should fill their minds with truth, so that there will be no space for lies.”

            “Fe’n, you are a bright young man, and adhere to many pleasant ideals.  But unfortunately, these ideals are not the way of the world.  The only way we can protect people is to shield them from these sinful alternative ideals.  Education is not the solution.  Think of your mother, Fe’n.  When she was perhaps the most educated woman in all of Ilepya, she was at her most sinful.  It was only when she abandoned her worldly learning that she opened her mind to the proper way.”

            “Hum.  I suppose you are correct on this matter.”  He had his facts correct, at least.  And yet it felt wrong to me.  How could the pursuit of learning lead a person to foolishness?  If knowledge were bad, why should I come to Ma’t with questions?  But, as usual, I said nothing of this, nor did I act upon it.  I continued to see Ma’t just as much as I always did, because he was the only person who gave me the answers that I sought.