Reflections on the history of the myth of the “land of a thousand little beautiful hills…”, with a few cattle and a place with limited bees but surprisingly “…flowing with ‘milk’ and ‘honey’”

The power and propaganda of mythology.

Mythology, like history, is a powerful tool of propaganda; it is used for social and mind indoctrination. Throughout history, mythology has been used as an effective tool of propaganda, social and mind indoctrination. This is still fundamentally the same; it has not changed in modern society, primarily and precisely because mythology has the power to conjure up images and greatly influence imagination.

It’s about imagery and imagination, the two most potent tools to play profound tricks on the human mind.

The following story, therefore, is one of and about the power and propaganda of mythology. Its profound and powerful effects, playing profound tricks of strong imagery and imagination on the human mind, stirring it into deep longing and subsequently setting it off on a protracted search for solutions to its imagined and hence, rather created reality.

It’s, as it will become clear, a two-phase story of: The first 30-31 years and, therefore, which begot the second 29-30 years.

The first 30-31 year phase, begot the second 29-30 year phase

It took 30-31 years, circa 1959 to 1987-90, of targeted persecution, dehumanisation, pathological denial, prevarication by and on one side; and statelessness, refugee life of hardship, misery, deaths and constantly watching over the back by and on another side; for the last 29-30 years, circa 1990, to be what they have been.

The first 30-31 year phase, begot the second 29-30 year phase. In many ways, it was history preparing to make history. Put simply, it was the first 30-31 years before the next 29-30 years that made what transpired in the next and therefore last 29-30 years today.

Both phases have been a roller coaster ride filled with great misery and suffering, success and victory; but perhaps a necessary fate of history. Without the first phase, there could certainly never have been the second phase.

“History is a mirror into the future” so it’s said.

That may well be true, at least, to a certain extent and to some people. But it is not always necessarily so because it depends so much on who holds the mirror. How, that is, at what angle for instance, they hold the mirror and what they, essentially, choose to see and not necessarily what they really see in the mirror. It is, therefore, by and large, a matter of choice and perception more than it is about reality.

History as a mirror into the future is influenced largely by what the past has been and therefore what it means; what the present is and means (looks and feels like, that is, how it is perceived) and how the future is projected not so much, if anything, very little, by the past but largely by the present to who and whoever holds the mirror.

There’s, however, one undeniable fact, and that’s that history has a lot [of lessons] to teach us. What’s equally undeniable, is our (the human) inability to learn from history despite too much reading and therefore our deep knowledge, subsequent interpretation and understanding of written history.

This, however, is not a lesson on [in] history; it’s a story about a history of a generation of people and the generation after who, due to the events that transpired leading to the 30-31 year phase of targeted persecution, dehumanisation, refugee life and hardships, were fed on myths and glorified historical lies.

This is a story about a history of people who, for 30-31 years, were fed on myths and glorified historical lies that were and essentially served as the glue that held them together. Myths and glorified historical lies which, with hindsight, gave these people a profound sense of both purpose and identity and therefore, equally important, self-pride and dignity despite their refugee and tough circumstances.

This is a story of a generation of people who were told stories – myths and glorified historical sweet lies – of a thousand heavenly hills, occupied and strongly protected by immovable and indivisible three traditional social pillars of Ga-tutsi, Ga-hutu and Ga-twa, around which collective social culture was formed with one overseeing, all powerful but presumably, as culture would demand, uniting and peaceful mount giraffe king chewing cud with a smile and smoking a pipe surrounded with, as royal culture demands, an army, nonetheless, of treacherous, ever scheming and backstabbing court minions.

This is a story of buzzing but humanely friendly armies of bees swirling and serving bucketsful of honey to each chiefdom and its surfs occupying each of the thousand heavenly hills, while the overseeing mount giraffe king is served cold milk with warm honey by his treacherous, ever scheming and backstabbing court minions and gives gratitude with friendly, reassuring and gentle tail strokes.

This is a story on the reflections on the history of the myth of the “land of a thousand little beautiful hills…“, with a few cattle and a place with limited bees but surprisingly “…flowing with ‘milk’ and ‘honey’”

This is a story about a history of a generation of people who took such myths and glorified historical sweet lies about a mythical place of a thousand heavenly hills, inhabited and strongly protected by immovable and indivisible three traditional social pillars of Ga-tutsi, Ga-hutu and Ga-twa – around which, collective social culture was formed – with an overseeing mount giraffe king seriously and believed them.

This is a story about a history of a generation of people whose parents had been severely persecuted and violently cast out of that mythical place who, some 30-31 years later, set out to rediscover, by all means possible and necessary, that place created and implanted in their minds through the power and propaganda of mythology.

This is a story about a history of the last 29-30 years of the mythical land of a thousand heavenly hills – some rocky and disappointingly arid – without, surprisingly, the humanely friendly armies of bees swirling and serving bucketsful of honey to each chiefdom and its surfs occupying each of the thousand heavenly hills; and without the overseeing mount giraffe king being served cold milk with warm honey by his treacherous, ever scheming and backstabbing court minions and gives gratitude with friendly, reassuring and gentle tail strokes.

This is certainly a story on the reflections, with mixed feelings of disappointment and joy, on the eventual realisation that there is, after all, no such place anywhere in the world, as a “land of a thousand little beautiful hills flowing with milk and honey”. And even if it existed and its inhabitants fed only on milk and honey; given that the combination of milk and honey is a bowel laxative, it would possibly be an unpleasant place to live in.

But it is certainly a place with [of] hills, where treachery, scheming and backstabbing is as rife as it is in any society where survival depends on one’s access to the means of and resources necessary for survival. Where such means and resources and opportunities to access such means and resources, are few and far between.

This is a story of the power and propaganda of well told mythology and glorified historical sweet lies; told constantly to a people so desperate and determined to defend and preserve their dignity. This is a story of a well indoctrinated and cultivated mind through well articulated mythology and glorified historical sweet lies. It’s a powerful mind!

This is a story of a generation of people who staked everything for their cause, and in their pursuit and journey of struggle to rediscover the mythical “land of a thousand little beautiful hills flowing with milk and honey”.

This is a story of a generation of people who had a cause they believed in at the time, set out and did everything – whatever necessary – to achieve it but like all causes; has changed faces and gone on a different course and rails with the inevitable passing of time.

This is a story about a history of constant struggle; of crossing one finishing line while starting another journey of struggle to another finishing line. It is a story of [about] a life caught in a matrix of continuous struggle for much the same fundamental concerns and pursuits of [in] human life, of self-determination, fundamental freedoms such as freedom of expression without inhibitions of the fear of consequences. And fundamental rights such as the right to a decent life, a decent work environment with prospects of growth, fulfillment and with a decent compensation package, decent accommodation, health care, healthy diet; the right to and equality of opportunities et cetera.

This is a story about a history, like all history, that appears to be on wheels running round and round in a circle. This is a story about a history on the run, on wheels rolling and running, until the rolling and running wheels are stopped; it’s a history that is inevitably bound to be repeated.

This is the story of the myth of the  “land of a thousand little beautiful hills flowing with milk and honey”. This is the story of the power and propaganda of mythology.

This story, like many of its kind, demonstrates how propaganda and mythology are both and can be [used as] effective and powerful tools of any social, political struggles and war. Because they are systematic, powerful and effective tools used to propagate and promote narratives by subtly attacking and indoctrinating the mind.