I'm afraid this isn't the weird thing I promised. Not to say it isn't odd. And, admittedly, probably also disturbing, but in a more conceptual sense than my previous entry.
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"Historical Truth"
It was twelve years since the death of the Great One. I did not become all misty eyed or mystical about that. I am calm and rational; for I am a researcher by trade. My specialty is the discipline of history. History is a precise science, it is all about adding up cold, unflinching facts.
But the cold fact remains. Twelve years ago Skrain Dukat was buried in an unmarked grave, shot without trial by Benjamin Sisko. (That Fire Cave nonsense is just a lie from Federation propagandists).
That solemn day I was on a transport heading for Kora II. Sitting next to me was a slender young woman. I could tell from her nose ridges that she was Bajoran. She introduced herself: Myr Nella, Lieutenant, Starfleet. "You're not wearing your uniform," I commented drolly.
"I don't wear it all the time," she replied. We talked about inconsequential things at first, but soon we moved to politics and Cardassia's future. She had that typical extremist anti-military stance, so I quickly disabused her of that position. "You are a member of a military."
"Starfleet is not a military." She snapped. She then went on a lengthy diatribe. I responded in kind, naturally. Sure, Starfleet may have other things and priorities, but it still has uniforms. And many of those priorities are related - exploration, a prelude to conquest. Scientific research, essential to weapons advances. This is the kind of doublethink so common in the Federation. They condemn us for having a military and defend their hypocrisy by refusing to acknowledge they have one.
Actually, her arguments were quite skilled, really, most Bajoran - do they not employ such elaborate argumentative styles in interpreting the prophecies of their murderous gods? I sensed she enjoyed testing her mettle against mine, and I certainly felt the same.
I had got her to concede that the method of Federation expansion was a form of conquest, albeit a highly benevolent one. "It was not as terrible as..." She trailed off. I saw it in her eyes.
"The Occupation." I curtly finished. I could see her shudder at the mere mention. The Bajorans had spun their horror tales too well, now many of them sincerely believed it. The truth might become forever lost. "I would expect you to see it that way," - I said delicately - "there has been much misrepresentation."
She reacted most inappropriately, with defiance. "What misinterpretation? The Cardassians brutalized, enslaved and murdered my people. That's hard to misinterpret." She was quite hysterical. I have even seen historians when they present this Establishment view become hysterical, it is to cover up how silly it sounds by being so serious.
"That is one interpretation." I demurred. I would have to be gentle. "But I am a historian. I search for the truth. The facts. I have found another interpretation. Bajorans as a whole were better treated during the Occupation than before. Facilities were constructed, Terok Nor was built, many are still used. There was harsh treatment on occasion, but this is only due to the stubbornness of the terrorists."
"Bajoran slaves built those facilities - and Terok Nor."
"Cardasssians designed it. Without Cardassians, it would not exist. The administration was a farsighted and just one, borne of great love of the Bajoran people. Dukat loved the Bajorans, you know. Yes - I know what you have heard. But he wanted the best for you. It's just a pity you can't see that." She remained silent. "I understand it is hard to accept. You have listened to distortions for so long, it is difficult to accept the truth."
"What I accept is the savagery of Gallitep." She spat it with such raw, irrational hatred, so typical of the Bajorans as a race.
"An exaggeration!" I rejoined. "There were no murders at Gallitep, only an unfortunately high death rate borne from poor mining conditions and circumstances the Cardassian withdrawal. Had there been no resistance, this tragedy could have been averted."
"My mother survived Gallitep. She saw what you did there." It was a flat voice. Cold. Almost as if she took my dispassionate historical analysis as a personal insult!
"Eyewitness accounts are unreliable. They vary. Why," I laughed, "by some accounts the Cardassians were almost demonic!"
"My mother saw them shooting defenceless Bajoran prisoners. Are you calling her a liar?"
She had to so desperately cling to her beliefs, I realised with a sigh. What could I tell her? That her mother was a Bajoran supremacist, who was part of the greatest fabrication the galaxy has ever seen - the myth of the murderous Cardassian? It was an excuse for war, just as the myth of the Changelings taking hold of the Cardassian government was used by the Klingons. So many powers blamed us and held us in contempt for actions never done, making war inevitable - forcing even the Great One into the waiting arms of the Founders. But how could I explain this to her? How could I make her understand?
And so there was silence. She became calm and composed. Like she was trying to grasp something - the truth? Then she spoke up: "You're not really a historian, are you?"
"Of course I am."
"Then where do you lecture?"
"I am afraid my views are too controversial to have a lecturing assignment."
"I'm surprised." She seethed sarcasm. "From where did you graduate?"
"I am afraid my views were too controversial for -"
"Did you even attend an academy? No, let me guess. Controversial views." I nodded assent. She could be perceptive at times. "But you're published?" Again a nod. "By whom?"
"Obsidian Press."
She smirked maliciously. "Don't they also publish extremist tracts and pamphlets?"
"My associations are not important. You should focus on my arguments."
"Don't worry. I'm sure actual historians do that already." She beamed as if that trite reply were some kind of triumph. Then she rose and went to go to another seat. It was sad, really: Her worldview would not permit the truth, and so she had bought into a lie.
Tidebrec Donat is a historian specialising in revisionism of the Cardassian Occupation of Bajor and the Dominion War. His books - Skrain Dukat: The Great One, Benjamin Sisko: Emissary of Hate and Cardassian 'Atrocities': The Truth Revealed About the Occupation are available from Obsidian Press.
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Author's Postscript: As those with a passing familiarity of the subject might have gathered, this work was influenced by the very real pseudohistory of Holocaust denial. The incident depicted is loosely based on one that a prominent denier, Bradley R. Smith, describes at length in chapter two of his Confessions of a Holocaust Revisionist. Smith painted a far less flattering depiction of himself there then I gather he realised, and so I thought it was excellent material for satire. I found this online but am not sure if I should link it.
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"Historical Truth"
It was twelve years since the death of the Great One. I did not become all misty eyed or mystical about that. I am calm and rational; for I am a researcher by trade. My specialty is the discipline of history. History is a precise science, it is all about adding up cold, unflinching facts.
But the cold fact remains. Twelve years ago Skrain Dukat was buried in an unmarked grave, shot without trial by Benjamin Sisko. (That Fire Cave nonsense is just a lie from Federation propagandists).
That solemn day I was on a transport heading for Kora II. Sitting next to me was a slender young woman. I could tell from her nose ridges that she was Bajoran. She introduced herself: Myr Nella, Lieutenant, Starfleet. "You're not wearing your uniform," I commented drolly.
"I don't wear it all the time," she replied. We talked about inconsequential things at first, but soon we moved to politics and Cardassia's future. She had that typical extremist anti-military stance, so I quickly disabused her of that position. "You are a member of a military."
"Starfleet is not a military." She snapped. She then went on a lengthy diatribe. I responded in kind, naturally. Sure, Starfleet may have other things and priorities, but it still has uniforms. And many of those priorities are related - exploration, a prelude to conquest. Scientific research, essential to weapons advances. This is the kind of doublethink so common in the Federation. They condemn us for having a military and defend their hypocrisy by refusing to acknowledge they have one.
Actually, her arguments were quite skilled, really, most Bajoran - do they not employ such elaborate argumentative styles in interpreting the prophecies of their murderous gods? I sensed she enjoyed testing her mettle against mine, and I certainly felt the same.
I had got her to concede that the method of Federation expansion was a form of conquest, albeit a highly benevolent one. "It was not as terrible as..." She trailed off. I saw it in her eyes.
"The Occupation." I curtly finished. I could see her shudder at the mere mention. The Bajorans had spun their horror tales too well, now many of them sincerely believed it. The truth might become forever lost. "I would expect you to see it that way," - I said delicately - "there has been much misrepresentation."
She reacted most inappropriately, with defiance. "What misinterpretation? The Cardassians brutalized, enslaved and murdered my people. That's hard to misinterpret." She was quite hysterical. I have even seen historians when they present this Establishment view become hysterical, it is to cover up how silly it sounds by being so serious.
"That is one interpretation." I demurred. I would have to be gentle. "But I am a historian. I search for the truth. The facts. I have found another interpretation. Bajorans as a whole were better treated during the Occupation than before. Facilities were constructed, Terok Nor was built, many are still used. There was harsh treatment on occasion, but this is only due to the stubbornness of the terrorists."
"Bajoran slaves built those facilities - and Terok Nor."
"Cardasssians designed it. Without Cardassians, it would not exist. The administration was a farsighted and just one, borne of great love of the Bajoran people. Dukat loved the Bajorans, you know. Yes - I know what you have heard. But he wanted the best for you. It's just a pity you can't see that." She remained silent. "I understand it is hard to accept. You have listened to distortions for so long, it is difficult to accept the truth."
"What I accept is the savagery of Gallitep." She spat it with such raw, irrational hatred, so typical of the Bajorans as a race.
"An exaggeration!" I rejoined. "There were no murders at Gallitep, only an unfortunately high death rate borne from poor mining conditions and circumstances the Cardassian withdrawal. Had there been no resistance, this tragedy could have been averted."
"My mother survived Gallitep. She saw what you did there." It was a flat voice. Cold. Almost as if she took my dispassionate historical analysis as a personal insult!
"Eyewitness accounts are unreliable. They vary. Why," I laughed, "by some accounts the Cardassians were almost demonic!"
"My mother saw them shooting defenceless Bajoran prisoners. Are you calling her a liar?"
She had to so desperately cling to her beliefs, I realised with a sigh. What could I tell her? That her mother was a Bajoran supremacist, who was part of the greatest fabrication the galaxy has ever seen - the myth of the murderous Cardassian? It was an excuse for war, just as the myth of the Changelings taking hold of the Cardassian government was used by the Klingons. So many powers blamed us and held us in contempt for actions never done, making war inevitable - forcing even the Great One into the waiting arms of the Founders. But how could I explain this to her? How could I make her understand?
And so there was silence. She became calm and composed. Like she was trying to grasp something - the truth? Then she spoke up: "You're not really a historian, are you?"
"Of course I am."
"Then where do you lecture?"
"I am afraid my views are too controversial to have a lecturing assignment."
"I'm surprised." She seethed sarcasm. "From where did you graduate?"
"I am afraid my views were too controversial for -"
"Did you even attend an academy? No, let me guess. Controversial views." I nodded assent. She could be perceptive at times. "But you're published?" Again a nod. "By whom?"
"Obsidian Press."
She smirked maliciously. "Don't they also publish extremist tracts and pamphlets?"
"My associations are not important. You should focus on my arguments."
"Don't worry. I'm sure actual historians do that already." She beamed as if that trite reply were some kind of triumph. Then she rose and went to go to another seat. It was sad, really: Her worldview would not permit the truth, and so she had bought into a lie.
Tidebrec Donat is a historian specialising in revisionism of the Cardassian Occupation of Bajor and the Dominion War. His books - Skrain Dukat: The Great One, Benjamin Sisko: Emissary of Hate and Cardassian 'Atrocities': The Truth Revealed About the Occupation are available from Obsidian Press.
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Author's Postscript: As those with a passing familiarity of the subject might have gathered, this work was influenced by the very real pseudohistory of Holocaust denial. The incident depicted is loosely based on one that a prominent denier, Bradley R. Smith, describes at length in chapter two of his Confessions of a Holocaust Revisionist. Smith painted a far less flattering depiction of himself there then I gather he realised, and so I thought it was excellent material for satire. I found this online but am not sure if I should link it.