“And for that matter,” he continued remorselessly, “you might also want to remember that when the Irish rebellion started in 1641, the rebels slaughtered thousands of Protestants.”
“They shouldn’t have been there in the first place!” snapped Darryl.
Tom eyed him for a moment. “Yeah, maybe not. But you might want to consider the fact, Darryl—if, just once in your life, you can tear yourself away from self-righteousness—that any American Indian can say exactly the same thing about the whites they massacred from time to time in America. But if that ever stopped your ancestors from grabbing the Indians’ land, it’s news to me. It sure as hell didn’t stop mine.”
Darryl was back to his silent glaring at the river. The Thames didn’t seem to care much. He was starting to regret having asked Tom the question.
The regret deepened, as Tom pressed on.
“Oh, yeah. God, there’s nothing in the world like a self-righteous hypocrite. Let me ask you something, Darryl. You know this much history. What do people call George Washington? Huh?”
” ‘Father of Our Country,’ ” mumbled Darryl. He dredged up another loose fact. ” ‘First in peace, first in war, first in the hearts of his countrymen.’ ”
“Well, not quite. Yeah, that’s what we call him. But do you know what the Iroquois call him?”
Darryl’s eyes widened. The thought of what the Iroquois might call George Washington had never once crossed his mind, in his entire life.
Tom chuckled. “About what I figured. Well, Darryl-me-lad, the Iroquois call him ‘the Town Burner.’ That’s because, during the American Revolution, the Iroquois were allied to the British. Can’t blame ’em, really. They knew if the colonists won, they’d be pouring onto Indian land even worse than ever. So good old George Washington threw another coin across the river. He ordered an army under the command of General Sullivan to march into Iroquois territory and crush them. Washington’s orders were just that explicit, Darryl. ‘The immediate objects are the total destruction and devastation of their settlements.’ I remember the exact words, ’cause I was struck by them when I read the history as a teenager. I admired George Washington. And I still do, by the way. But I’ve also got no use for people who try to sugarcoat stuff like this, when it’s done by the ‘good guys.’ The difference between the good guys and the bad guys isn’t always that easy to separate, especially when you look at things in isolation. And it depends a lot which angle you look at it from.”
He paused, considering the tight-faced young man standing next to him. “It’s a pretty close parallel, actually, as these things go in history. Washington was leading a revolution against the English crown, and he needed to secure his rear. So he did, the way the man did things. Decisively, effectively, and ruthlessly. It worked, too. Sullivan pretty well destroyed the Iroquois as a nation, and drove most of them out of New York. And that’s basically what Cromwell did in Ireland. The Irish were King Charles’ ‘reservoir,’ if you will. That’s the role they played in those days—these days—for the English monarchy. If the English commons get uppity, just bring over an Irish army to squelch ’em. That was the threat posed to the English revolution—and Cromwell ended it.”
“It’s not the same thing!” protested Darryl. “Those were Injuns! Wild savages!”
The moment the words went out of his mouth, Darryl regretted them. Not least of all, seeing the way Tom’s huge shoulders bunched. But he was relieved to see the man’s hands remained clasped behind his back. He’d seen those same hands bend horseshoes, on a bet.
“Don’t piss me off, Darryl,” growled Tom. The huge captain was now glaring at the river himself. “This much I’ll say for my old man—my mother, too. They never tolerated racist shit. That much of their upbringing I don’t regret at all.”
“I didn’t mean it that way,” mumbled Darryl. “Hell, Tom, you know I’m not—”
“Oh, shut up, will you?” Tom’s glare faded, and he sighed. “Darryl, I know you’re not a racist. Although, I swear, sometimes you can do a damn good imitation. But, since we’ve descended into this little pit, I’m not going to let you off lightly.”