That Which Makes Its Truth
Title: That Which makes Its Truth
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Rufus Scrimgeour
Rating: G
Other: Written for the January 4th challenge (as we dream) for 30_hath. This is the result of several things... Er. The prompt, which made me squee. Conrad. General Rufus-thought. And so on. Also partially trying to make sense of a recent, er, slip of Rufus's in RP-land. I'm not certain that I think this is what will happen after the war, but I see it as a possible end; not sure whether I really explain any of it in the ficlet-thing, but eh. Hanyway, title, cut text, and quote all credited to Joseph Conrad.
“[I]t is impossible to convey the life-sensation of any given epoch of one’s existence-that which makes its truth, its meaning-its subtle and penetrating essence. It is impossible. We live, as we dream-alone.”
-Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness-
He will not bother to fully explain himself. There is no need and, at any rate, it would be impossible.
Rufus has long understood that some issues are best left unspoken. Cover them with time, with lies, with anything; only be certain that they remain hidden. There is no explaining them, no feasible method for compelling everyone to understand.
He faces the Court as he has faced so many members of the press. Standing straight, proud as ever, dressed as respectfully as ever, he sees no reasons to change his bearing. Hostility will not ease them. Calmness, alternately, may appease them to some extent; he cannot tell them the whole of it, but he can make them believe what he says. He knows what they desire to hear and he knows what he will tell them: something that they will believe, something that will satisfy their desire, something that will not nearly be the truth.
They wish to hear the truth. He cannot give them the truth, and they should know this. Should know as well as anyone that it is impossible to convey the whole of the matter, to explain every detail. They will see his actions from their own pedestals. Those who hear of this stories, the most common of people, will see the actions from their level, will interpret them as threats if even they can begin to guess the scope of the Ministry’s operations.
It is useless to try. They will only misconstrue his meaning further. He could strive unceasingly to explain the necessity of secrets, the dire need to covert operation. He could try to explain the many uses of the most notorious curses, could explain that the Ministry had even taken precautions to be certain that only those trained and approved by the Department would be allowed to use the curses.
For all of the experience of Ministry men who decided, for all of their knowledge, the people would still condemn them. Would condemn him, as the leader of misdeeds. The people would not delve beyond the obvious fragments of information. They would cry against the curses and their use, cry with indignation that no one had informed the public, that they should rightly have been told.
Rufus cannot begin to dignify these self-righteous individuals. Sometimes, he wonders whether they understood that they had dwelt in the midst of a very real war. They must know now, now that the war has ended in victory. He had shielded them through most of its course, contenting them with assurances that the war was not so bad as it may have seemed even as Aurors had fallen and given hot blood. They may have slept through much of it, but they cannot deny the outcome. He does not see how they can ignore the signs, and, after all, he has heard them speak in celebration of the happy end. They must understand that there has been a war. They do not see how the end came about.
It is in details that they falter. The public, Rufus understands, can look only blindly on internal matters of the Ministry, on its changes in policy and allowances during war. The Ministry had made alterations, beaten new trails in the face of war and a new sort of need. The people could not have understood the subtle workings, the tricky necessities brought about by the rampant criminals and their leader. No one bothered to inform them. After all, they would only have slowed the process down. Did they not desire peace? Certainly, they seem glad of it now, even as they rebel against those who brought the end.
He is unsurprised by this. While he may from time to time have hoped otherwise, Rufus had known from the beginning that he would not remain in office for long. He was a Minister for war, a politician too harsh to comfort an easy country. The people had wanted protection and resolution. Rufus had been able to promise both.
Now that he has served his purpose, they will distastefully toss him aside. It is what they are even now moving toward, eager to enter this new era that he has set for them. They ask now that he defend himself against his actions during the war, against his own decisions, made while in power. They question the recent means of the Ministry, question secret abductions, allowance of curses, and any number of policies implemented to urge the war’s conclusion. They are indignant in their lack of understanding.
They desire explanation of the Ministry’s policies, and they desire explanation of his own character. Why did he allow these hideous infractions? Why did he suggest such underhanded means of operation? Where was his sense of nobility? Did he have no respect for common decency? Mostly, they seemed concerned that he had flounced the good that they believed themselves representatives of, that he had made decisions of deprivation.
Rufus has arrived for his defense, but will not make it fully. He will not bear himself before these dull-eyed people, these cattle and slaves to the common means. He could not begin to tell them even had he wanted to. Without having been in his position, without having acted as Britain’s Minister for Magic, how could they see? There was power in it, and there was potential. Potential to direct events and to do what was required, whatever was required, to achieve the end. He could not have conveyed this sense of control and its possibilities even to those who had held the position. The sense of the office had changed with war; everything changed with war. It had changed when he entered the office, when he brought his understanding as an ex-Auror.
How could he explain the intricacies, the workings of his own mind and what he has seen, the way in which his view melded into his position? How could he properly convey the way that everything would somehow come together and feel correct if only he nudged procedure properly? It had been instinctive in many ways, if tied down by the bonds of politics. As Minister, Rufus had forged an understanding that has proven effective. The way had made sense at the time. Now he sees the people alive and well situated on account of his ill-mentioned actions. What should he have to regret?
A stern-looking man who speaks, a man conditioned by years and experience with criminals, who must have been around for the first war and its criminals. What does the man know of the Ministry’s workings, of the subtle changes in them? What does he know of the current views within, of Rufus’s own extensive thoughts? What does he know of connections, of years spent in the Ministry, of a progression of knowledge and means toward defeating the criminals?
“Explain yourself.”
Rufus would laugh, were laughter not politically unwise.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Rufus Scrimgeour
Rating: G
Other: Written for the January 4th challenge (as we dream) for 30_hath. This is the result of several things... Er. The prompt, which made me squee. Conrad. General Rufus-thought. And so on. Also partially trying to make sense of a recent, er, slip of Rufus's in RP-land. I'm not certain that I think this is what will happen after the war, but I see it as a possible end; not sure whether I really explain any of it in the ficlet-thing, but eh. Hanyway, title, cut text, and quote all credited to Joseph Conrad.
“[I]t is impossible to convey the life-sensation of any given epoch of one’s existence-that which makes its truth, its meaning-its subtle and penetrating essence. It is impossible. We live, as we dream-alone.”
-Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness-
He will not bother to fully explain himself. There is no need and, at any rate, it would be impossible.
Rufus has long understood that some issues are best left unspoken. Cover them with time, with lies, with anything; only be certain that they remain hidden. There is no explaining them, no feasible method for compelling everyone to understand.
He faces the Court as he has faced so many members of the press. Standing straight, proud as ever, dressed as respectfully as ever, he sees no reasons to change his bearing. Hostility will not ease them. Calmness, alternately, may appease them to some extent; he cannot tell them the whole of it, but he can make them believe what he says. He knows what they desire to hear and he knows what he will tell them: something that they will believe, something that will satisfy their desire, something that will not nearly be the truth.
They wish to hear the truth. He cannot give them the truth, and they should know this. Should know as well as anyone that it is impossible to convey the whole of the matter, to explain every detail. They will see his actions from their own pedestals. Those who hear of this stories, the most common of people, will see the actions from their level, will interpret them as threats if even they can begin to guess the scope of the Ministry’s operations.
It is useless to try. They will only misconstrue his meaning further. He could strive unceasingly to explain the necessity of secrets, the dire need to covert operation. He could try to explain the many uses of the most notorious curses, could explain that the Ministry had even taken precautions to be certain that only those trained and approved by the Department would be allowed to use the curses.
For all of the experience of Ministry men who decided, for all of their knowledge, the people would still condemn them. Would condemn him, as the leader of misdeeds. The people would not delve beyond the obvious fragments of information. They would cry against the curses and their use, cry with indignation that no one had informed the public, that they should rightly have been told.
Rufus cannot begin to dignify these self-righteous individuals. Sometimes, he wonders whether they understood that they had dwelt in the midst of a very real war. They must know now, now that the war has ended in victory. He had shielded them through most of its course, contenting them with assurances that the war was not so bad as it may have seemed even as Aurors had fallen and given hot blood. They may have slept through much of it, but they cannot deny the outcome. He does not see how they can ignore the signs, and, after all, he has heard them speak in celebration of the happy end. They must understand that there has been a war. They do not see how the end came about.
It is in details that they falter. The public, Rufus understands, can look only blindly on internal matters of the Ministry, on its changes in policy and allowances during war. The Ministry had made alterations, beaten new trails in the face of war and a new sort of need. The people could not have understood the subtle workings, the tricky necessities brought about by the rampant criminals and their leader. No one bothered to inform them. After all, they would only have slowed the process down. Did they not desire peace? Certainly, they seem glad of it now, even as they rebel against those who brought the end.
He is unsurprised by this. While he may from time to time have hoped otherwise, Rufus had known from the beginning that he would not remain in office for long. He was a Minister for war, a politician too harsh to comfort an easy country. The people had wanted protection and resolution. Rufus had been able to promise both.
Now that he has served his purpose, they will distastefully toss him aside. It is what they are even now moving toward, eager to enter this new era that he has set for them. They ask now that he defend himself against his actions during the war, against his own decisions, made while in power. They question the recent means of the Ministry, question secret abductions, allowance of curses, and any number of policies implemented to urge the war’s conclusion. They are indignant in their lack of understanding.
They desire explanation of the Ministry’s policies, and they desire explanation of his own character. Why did he allow these hideous infractions? Why did he suggest such underhanded means of operation? Where was his sense of nobility? Did he have no respect for common decency? Mostly, they seemed concerned that he had flounced the good that they believed themselves representatives of, that he had made decisions of deprivation.
Rufus has arrived for his defense, but will not make it fully. He will not bear himself before these dull-eyed people, these cattle and slaves to the common means. He could not begin to tell them even had he wanted to. Without having been in his position, without having acted as Britain’s Minister for Magic, how could they see? There was power in it, and there was potential. Potential to direct events and to do what was required, whatever was required, to achieve the end. He could not have conveyed this sense of control and its possibilities even to those who had held the position. The sense of the office had changed with war; everything changed with war. It had changed when he entered the office, when he brought his understanding as an ex-Auror.
How could he explain the intricacies, the workings of his own mind and what he has seen, the way in which his view melded into his position? How could he properly convey the way that everything would somehow come together and feel correct if only he nudged procedure properly? It had been instinctive in many ways, if tied down by the bonds of politics. As Minister, Rufus had forged an understanding that has proven effective. The way had made sense at the time. Now he sees the people alive and well situated on account of his ill-mentioned actions. What should he have to regret?
A stern-looking man who speaks, a man conditioned by years and experience with criminals, who must have been around for the first war and its criminals. What does the man know of the Ministry’s workings, of the subtle changes in them? What does he know of the current views within, of Rufus’s own extensive thoughts? What does he know of connections, of years spent in the Ministry, of a progression of knowledge and means toward defeating the criminals?
“Explain yourself.”
Rufus would laugh, were laughter not politically unwise.