A Very Small Dictator

A Very Small Dictator

A basement storeroom full of discarded theatrical props. Music from The Great Dictator. A masked actor, dressed as Hitler, circles the stage, dances, draws a sword, threatens. Charlie Chaplin dance with the globe in The Great Dictator. Removes the mask. Is made up as Hitler.

Actor: Why do I not remember you, that field of daisies, that shrub of shed tears, that snuffed out light?!………No! No! No! I am tired, I’m worn out. Enough, for God’s sake, enough! (Looks intently in a mirror. Grimaces at his image.) Have you not had enough of me? Are you not sick and tired of me? What is it that you want of me? Why don’t you leave me alone? Go, for the love of God, go! Leave me alone! I have had enough! Shit! Liar! Quack! Good for nothing! Are you satisfied now? (Turns his back to the mirror and wriggles his bottom) Look. Don’t be shy! Take a good look. Look at what you really are!……(Looks intently at himself in the mirror, then, full of fear, throws it to the floor and runs away in all directions, actually running away from himself.) I found it! Aha, where you hiding here? No, that is not it! This time, if I find you, I shall know what to do with you. You shall not escape me! I am still here! (Straightens his back and stands at the podium as soldiers shout) With Germany’s steely strength we shall establish an iron order in the world. Heil! (his coughing unsettles him) Heil…Heil…Damn you and Heil! Go to hell!

Tell me sir, would you by any chance have a drink of water? Then please just add two shots of vodka for me to regain my breath. I am tired, sir, tired. Till when am I supposed to go on acting out these roles? Other peoples’ roles? Roles of a bunch of bastards, wheeler-dealers, rogues, liars and quacks! Lilly-white faces with a halo of light round their heads! Have you seen them? Round, like the roundness of a toilet seat! (He picks up a cloak, shield and sword and turning this way and that, draws the sword and goes on the attack) Double crossing knights! Bloody caliphs! Despicable wretches! Good for nothings! Swords and scourges on the back of humanity, on the soles of the feet of civilisation, upon the neck of honour! Vipers! Stinking, thousand-year-old snakes risen from the depths of hell. Deadly poison. Venomous contamination! Where has it gone? Here! Where? But where is it? Here, here it is. Look at it. World, can you see me out there? This is my new plan! Look at it well! Every city in Europe, look at it well! Every colour and race, look at it well! (places a mask on his face and goes round the stage) We are here to establish a new world order, free from poverty and ignorance (tears off the mask and stamps on it) Shut up, you dirty liar. Look carefully. What you see in my hands is called the torch of liberty. Don’t try to blow it out old boy, you will only burn your beard! No, no, no, it’s a butcher’s cleaver! Pinochet’s cleaver. Can’t you see Allende’s blood dripping from it? Do you see the chopped-off hands of Victor Jara strumming his guitar? Can you see Santiago’s bullet ridden stadium where flapping grey pigeons fill its sky? Heil Pinochet! Heil you decrepit mule of Uganda! It is I! Look! I am Idi Amin. Bang, bang, bang! A river of blood! A sewer of filth and poverty! Towers of decapitated heads. Africa torn apart, set on fire! A plague of locusts. Snakes! Snaking pipelines from whose mouths the black oil-blood of Africa spouts. The black blood of Asia.

I am tired sir! I want to become a recluse, a priest, a monk! And then I shall doubtless have to go and cap the cesspool that they have created in Afghanistan and pray over it. Pray for the Kabul that was. For the safety of that man-eater, Mulla Omar. For whom should I pray and whom should I curse? You tell me what to do! Bomb?

Gas Halabja to bits! Aim your swords at the face of Baghdad! Throw the thousands of Arab slave girls in the bazaars of a thousand and one nights. Woof, woof, woof! I smell kebabs! The smell of bodies burning! From Manhattan to Kabul, from Jerusalem to Tal el Zaatar. Smell it! Smell it you pimp! (Clutching at his hair he pulls his head this way and that) It is you who stinks, stinks of things foul, stinks of carrion! Stick your head in the slums of America. In the sewage that is Kashmir. In the broiling brothels of Thailand! Take a deep breath! The smell of aids, of syphilis, and venereal disease! Smell it! The smell of carrion, of power, of oil! Do come too, do come and have a drink. Your good health! Enjoy it! It is a good cocktail party. A cocktail of oil, power and corruption…..Excuse me, do you have a light? Yes, a match. Thank you, and maybe you could light a cigarette for me too? (He smokes and blows smoke through his nostrils, then stamping his foot like a wild bull, goes on the attack) Olé! Olé! I am Spain! Spain is me! And this is blood on my horns. The green blood of Spain. The blood of the poet Lorca whom you cut to pieces. The life-blood of the olives and the figs. With these same golden horns I shall ram the heart of Picasso’s dove of peace.

Are all these things bad, ugly, disgusting? Will they have a bad effect on the children? The children! Come, come here my child. I need your small kidneys, my son. What do you need kidneys for, anyway? Your soft delicate skin is just made for this lady’s nose surgery! OK, one small piece only? Look, bread, meat!

My hands are buried in blood and filth up till here! Please keep your heads up! If you lower your blessed heads … it could fill your mouths. It comes up to your blessed chins already!

Where? Where is he? I shall find him! Come out, come out! (Rummages among the clothes. Pulls on a balaclava and gets hold of a machine gun. Jumps out of a foxhole and blasts everyone with machine-gun fire. Stops, dazed.) I spit on you! Spit, spit, spit up high on this position and prestige, Come out you dirty terrorist! (One arm in the sleeve of a priest’s cassock and another in that of a smart suit, he fires in every direction.)

Why do I not remember you, that field of daisies, the shrub of shed tears, that snuffed out light?

Tell me honestly, have you not seen me? Yes, me. I, who at one time was a white lily, or no, a bluebell, bare as a pomegranate, as water, as the sun! If you see me, say: ‘Run away, break free and like a sweet scented gazelle, come to the open spaces of my heart. Run away from this dust- bin of a world, from the guffaws of idiots, from this decapitated sun, this gaping darkness, from this tribe devoid of ishq and of honour! Hey there! It is to you that I am talking! (To himself) Congratulation, you mighty one! You are fabulous, fantastic, a true leader, a real father!

Baa, baa, baa . (To the audience) You sons of slaves! I am the shepherd and the guide. One half fire and one half sword! Hey, you worthless sheep. I am the shepherd with the mien and manner of a lion, the majesty of an eagle and the aspect of God! I am Quddus, Qudddus, Quddus…for all you enslaved ones to address your prayers to me, while I, I soar to the sun to sit and stare at a girl whose lips are like lilies of the valley, her hands whispers of the wind, her body a naked, ruby-studded dawn, her face a pomegranate, her mouth honeyed, and her hair braids of sweet basil. On earth she was mine, but you sent me skyward and took her from me. Vice and villainy have laid eggs in your eyes. As to me, one half of me is a scorpion and the other half an almond blossom, one half wine and one half hemlock. No, no, I am joking. Actually I am only half Hitler and the other half a miserable, good for nothing, stuttering, burnt out actor longing for fame and power.(He breaks into tears).

I respectfully salute you worthy chair! I bow down to you… Will you permit me to polish your legs with this exquisite silk handkerchief? Tell me, what power lies within you that attracts people in this way? Come on, tell me, what lies therein? What is it that you want of me? What? (With the sword he attacks the chair) Bastard, bereft of one and all, a curse upon you! You know me too well! This is the way I actually am! Heil Hitler! That is me! Me! Don’t waste time looking for me! Here I am! Are you blind? It is I! By God, it is I! A luckless, power hungry, nobody! (Pulls on a Hitler hand doll and talks to it. At times as himself, at others as the doll.)

- Did you call me?

- You? Who are you?

- I? I am you!

- Go on, stop joking! It is years, maybe centuries that I have been dead.

- The same with me, but every time I revive in another form, in a new

way.

- So you are me!… So what does that make you?

- Power. I am naked power, and just as you need me, I too am in need of

you.

- Meaning you need workers! Servants! Spies! Pimps! People to do your

dirty work, in silence, in fear!. Double faced idiots like me. But I shall

exterminate you (They fight as he tries to beat him).

- You cannot! I am everywhere. I am there. In your head. Inside your

skull. Unfortunate wretch! (The doll falls from the actor’s hand. He

examines it.)

- There! I found you! (Takes up the globe and places it on the table.

Turns it. Throws it in the air) I who have acted so many roles, how is it

that I cannot manage this one? Why does it get the better of me?

What do you say spider? (A window-pane breaks and a white ball falls

on stage. The actor is dazed. After a few seconds a child comes down

the stairs in search of the ball. The actor places the globe on his

shoulder and bending down, assumes the pose of Atlas. The child

approaches and goes round him. The actor grimaces. For a while they

play with each other. The actor tires, stands up.)

- Child: What happened?

- Actor: I got tired.

- So why did you put that on your back?

- Because I am Atlas and must carry the earth on my back. Only it is very

heavy.

- That is because there are too many things on this earth. It is full of

junk and rubbish.

- For example?

- I don’t know! These, for example. Bang, bang! Bombs and more bombs

(Takes a handful of guns and tanks and broken armaments and throws

them in a corner) What are you waiting for? Come and help me throw

them away.

- No, no, stop! Let me see, are you not afraid of me?

- No, not really. Why should I be afraid?

- Do you know who I am?

- You? Wait, let me see! I think I saw you in a film. Maybe you are a

clown.

- No, no, no! Think carefully! Then you will be scared, Very, very scared.

- But you are anything but scary!

- I am, I am, I am.

- You’re not, you’re not, you’re not.

- I am, I am Hitler, Hitler. A thousand bullets for a child and a thousand

children for a loaf of bread! Huge spider that I am! Webs I spin! In

bloodied eyes! In your skull! There!

- Ho, ho! Big talk and funny too.

- Funny? Scary! Frightful! Fearful! I, I am Hitler! H.I.T.L.E.R. Hitler!

- OK, so you are, but there is nothing scary about you. But you are very

funny. You would like to scare me, but you can’t. But what are you doing

here? What is this place?

- Here? That’s pretty obvious! Backstage and there (pointing at audience)

the stage, full of big and small actors! With masks, many facetted

masks!

- Fine, I’ll go and act with them.

- Act? No, no, You must not do that! Look around and see how many

important things there are in this world to do. Act? Do you know how

many very important things there are in the world? Tell me! Guess!

- Ice cream?

- Ice cream? No!

- Then a clown…a sharon fruit!

- No, no, no!

- Pomegranates? Violets? Ladybirds? Balloons? Ants?

- You drive me crazy! No, no, no!

- OK, so why are you shouting? If you know so much give me a word that has only four letters and that can be found here. It’s very important too. Say it, say it! See? You don’t know, you can’t tell me.

- I! Power!

- Enough of that! To start with your name is Hitler. Did you not say so?

six letters. See, you could not find the word. I was thinking of

chocolates

- Chocolates? Are you pulling my leg? Since when is chocolates a four

letter word?

- If you really want it, it can be a four letter word!

- Ha, ha, ha! Chocolates in four letters! I’ll die laughing!

- Now you are not in the least bit scary, nor can you frighten anyone.

(The actor stamps his foot. Is downcast.)

- I can’t! I can’t! God, how miserable I feel! (Crying) No one is afraid of

me. (The child sings for the actor)

- Now, one by one

Gather these tears that run

And to the songbird’s garden come.

Kisses and smiles

Among the pines.

The doves and the moon

Flutter and croon.

Pomegranates and laughter

Red apples a-flutter.

The friend held the keys

To the garden of Spring,

But now, in a heart like an ocean

Rain down a whole sea!

- OK, stop being silly. Come, lets play ball! Come on, wipe your tears!

(The actor throws the globe up and down) No, not with this! Lets play

with my ball, like all the children do.

- I can’t! I can’t. I don’t know how.

- I can’t, I can’t! Yes you can! Wait, I have another idea. A wonderful

idea. Did you not say that you were a powerful person?

- Yes, yes, for sure. So what?

- Are you not more powerful than the doctor who works at the hospital

down the street?

- Yes, of course!

- Much, much, much more?

- Yes, for sure!

- If that is true then you can cure Tara! If you can, then what are you

waiting for? Let’s go, hurry!

- Tara? Which Tara? What am I supposed to do? This is so confusing!

- Tara! Don’t you know who Tara is? My little sister who is in hospital.

- In hospital? Why?

- You mean you don’t know? All these stories and claims you make! The

planes! When the planes dropped their bombs on the city Tara became

ill. She lost her golden hair. Tara does not speak any more. Tara never

smiles any more. She never plays. Does not fly her kite. Even the ice

cream van, from whom Tara always bought ice cream, does not come to

our street anymore. The doctors say that Tara will only live for a few

weeks more. But you, you can help her. Did you not say so?

- I? What can I do?

- I’ll tell you what you can do. Tara loves clowns. You can save Tara!

Hurry, hurry!

- I? I can save Tara? Maybe. Alright, yes, yes, maybe I can. Yes, I can.

But like this? With these clothes, and in this shape?

- There are so many clothes here. Its easy, come, I’ll choose something

for you. Here you are you very, very, serious and very, very great man!

Here is a jacket, trousers, hat, shoes. Put them on! Hurry! A real

clown. (The actor puts on the costume of Charlie Chaplin, the famous

suit, hat, shoes, and carries the cane.) You look great. Come on, lets go

and find the children. Look, for God’s sake, look at yourself and see

what you have become! Come on, laugh, sing!

- But I am afraid!

- Don’t be afraid! You are wonderful!

- But I have never acted this role!

- This is not a role. You are yourself. Believe me. And how it suits you!

Lovely, you are truly it! Here, clap hands! Hey, Tara, I have found

a friend! A clown that can make the whole world laugh! A real actor. He

is wonderful. Come children, come and see!

- Yes, come, come and see! Hey Tara, look! It is I, a real life clown. Come

and watch me. Children come and watch, the whole world come and

watch! (They both dance. Taking the globe, they go towards the door,

to the last words of Charlie Chaplin at the end of The Great Dictator.).

The End