Choihosla shook his head. ‘The answer is – a mother over her newborn child. Bear that in mind while I speak to you.’
He said he realised his proposals would be anathema to all whose brains had been, as he put it, ‘dissolved by the Western way of life’. But a little thought was needed on the matter and that thought must be directed to overturning accepted ideas of power as an opportunity for gain.
The various presidents, monarchs and dictators who wielded power Downstairs were not to be emulated Upstairs. All of them sought to accumulate wealth for themselves. The citizens under them also sought to accumulate wealth for themselves. We, fortunately, had no wealth. Nevertheless we would need a leader, a man or a woman, to whom all questions of justice could eventually be referred. He suggested this person should assume the title of Prime Architect. The title was neutral as regards gender, and it correctly implied that something constructive was going on.
But the conception of power as a force that enabled an individual to gain more than was his or her due had to be discarded. Power had to derive from the determination to achieve and maintain a well-organised society. Since this determination would be reinforced by the hope – however illusory – of achieving the perfectability of humanity, it would follow that the powerless would not be harmed by power, any more than a child is harmed by the mother’s power over him. Indeed, the linkages of power, from officials to parents, to children, to pets, would share by example the unifying hope of a general well-being. Both child and mother benefit by the maternal wielding of power.
At this point, Cang Hai said, ‘You are trying to bring back Confucianism!’
‘Not so,’ replied Choihosla. ‘Confucianism was too rigid and limited, although it contained many enlightened ideas. But these days we hear much about “human rights” and too little about human responsibilities. In our Utopia, responsibility carries with it satisfaction and a better chance for benevolence.’
‘So what is your revised nature of power to be?’ someone asked.
‘No, no.’ He shook his heavy head, as if regretting he had spoken in the first place. ‘How can I say? I don’t seek to change the nature of power – that’s ridiculous. Only our attitude to power. Power in itself is a neutral thing; it’s the use of it that must be changed from malevolent to benevolent. By thought, by empathy. I am sure it can be done. Then power will provide a chance to increase everyone’s well-being. Given a society already positive in aspect, that will be the greatest satisfaction. Both Prime Architect and citizen will benefit by what I might call a maternal wielding of power.’
He was a big clumsy man. He looked oddly humble as he finished speaking and folded his massive arms across his chest.
After a meditative silence all round, Crispin said, quietly, ‘You are wanting human nature to change.’
‘But not all human nature,’ Choihosla replied. ‘Some of us already hold the concept of power-as-greed in contempt. And I think you are one of them, Mr. Barcunda!’
While the excavations for our extension were in progress, I was busier than ever. Fortunately, our secretary, the silent Elsa Lamont, arranged my appointments and saw that I kept them. She and Suung Saybin dealt personally with all those applying for rooms in the new building.
Unexpectedly, one evening, working late at night when we should both of us have been relaxing, Elsa turned to me and said, ‘In my love affairs, I have always been the one who was loved.’
I was startled, since I had not associated the rather drab-looking Elsa with affairs of the heart or the body. For me, she was just an ex-commercial artist with a head for figures.
‘Why are the figures I paint faceless? Tom, I realise I am not capable of deep love. It’s unfair to my partners, isn’t it?’
Since my eyebrows were already raised, I could only think to ask, ‘What has prompted this reflection, Elsa?’
She had been thinking about Choihosla’s redefinition of power. Mothers loved deeply, yes, she said. But perhaps for those who were unable to love deeply, power was the next best thing. Perhaps power was a kind of corruption of the reproductive process.