Beds without Sheets, and the Non-Existent Fixated Persons Act

by Mary W Maxwell, LLB

Gumshoe has already presented two articles about Animal Farm. One was entitled “Napoleon’s Dogs” – showing how the arming of the leader’s close henchmen will suffice to keep citizens at bay. The other article, “Food Control at Animal Farm,” showed us the ominous truth that our food supply can easily be controlled so as to make us slaves.

Today I am again drawing on Animal Farm, to make a point about “when a law is really a law.” Orwell showed how easily individuals give in – unfortunately – when a later interpretation is put onto a stated law that they had deeply believed in.

In “the Battle of the Cowshed,” the animals had successfully driven the human owners from the farm, and established an animal-run farm. They then had to make laws, aimed partly at avoiding, in future, the way the old farm had been run by humans. They established seven commandments as follows:

THE SEVEN COMMANDMENTS
1. Whatever goes upon two legs is an enemy.
2. Whatever goes upon four legs, or has wings, is a friend.
3. No animal shall wear clothes.
4. No animal shall sleep in a bed.
5. No animal shall drink alcohol.
6. No animal shall kill any other animal.
7. All animals are equal. “

These commandments were painted on the barn, but only a few animals were literate, so most would not know if someone later changed the text.

After a while, the more favored animals, the pigs, took over the farmhouse and occupied it. Orwell wrote in Animal Farm (chapter 6):

 “… some of the animals were disturbed when they heard that the pigs not only took their meals in the kitchen and used the drawing-room as a recreation room, but also slept in the beds. Boxer passed it off as usual with “Napoleon is always right!”, but Clover, who thought she remembered a definite ruling against beds, went to the end of the barn and tried to puzzle out the Seven Commandments which were inscribed there. Finding herself unable to read more than individual letters, she fetched Muriel.

“Muriel,” she said, “read me the Fourth Commandment. Does it not say something about never sleeping in a bed?”

With some difficulty Muriel spelt it out.  “It says, ‘No animal shall sleep in a bed with sheets,'” she announced finally.

Later, Squealer explained that the rule was not really against beds, since, after all, “a pile of straw in a stall is a bed, properly regarded.” Rather:

The rule was against sheets, which are a human invention. We have removed the sheets from the farmhouse beds, and sleep between blankets. And very comfortable beds they are too! But not more comfortable than we need, I can tell you, comrades, with all the brainwork we have to do nowadays.”

As claimed in my Gumshoe article about an Australian grandmother who has been caught by the new Fixated Person Unit, neither principles nor laws mean what they are supposed to mean anymore.

Grandma, who was using her normal right to seek judicial adjudication of a dispute, was told that her (heretofore absolutely valid) approach means she is “fixated” – and hence mentally ill, and hence a potentially danger to society.

Why do we fall for it?  Orwell seemed to have wonderful foresight – although maybe he was going by his real-time knowledge of Stalinism. Or maybe Orwell was simply observing the general phenomenon that oppressed people usually take the line of least resistance.

I now quote Chapter VIII of Animal Farm (abridged) to show how the animals acted sycophantically toward the dictator pig, Napoleon, and were easily persuaded that the Seven Commandments did not say what they had remembered them to say (Note: they were also very flexible about their leaders’ “foreign policy”).

In Chapter 7, Napoleon the pig had summarily ordered the brutal execution of various members of the farm who were deemed “traitors” for having supported Snowball.

CHAPTER 8 of George Orwell’s Animal Farm, bolding added:

A FEW DAYS LATER, when the terror caused by the executions had died down, some of the animals remembered — or thought they remembered — that the Sixth Commandment decreed ‘No animal shall kill any other animal.’

And though no one cared to mention it in the hearing of the pigs or the dogs [the dogs were Napoleon’s bodyguards], it was felt that the  ings which had taken place did not square with this. Clover asked Benjamin [a donkey] to read her the Sixth Commandment, and when Benjamin, as usual, said that he refused to meddle in such matters, she fetched Muriel [a goat].

Muriel read the Commandment for her. It ran: ‘No animal shall kill any other animal without cause.’ Somehow or other, the last two words had slipped out of the animals’ memory. But they saw now that the Commandment had not been violated; for clearly there was good reason for killing the traitors who had leagued themselves with Snowball.

Throughout the year the animals worked even harder than they had worked in the previous year.  To rebuild the windmill, with walls twice as thick as before, and to finish it by the appointed date, together with the regular work of the farm, was a tremendous labour. There were times when it seemed to the animals that they worked longer hours and fed no better than they had done in Jones’s day.

… All orders were now issued through Squealer or one of the other pigs. Napoleon himself was not seen in public as often as once in a fortnight. When he did appear, he was attended not only by his retinue of dogs but by a black cockerel who marched in front of him and acted as a kind of trumpeter, letting out a loud ‘cock-a-doodle-doo’ before Napoleon spoke.

Even in the farmhouse, it was said, Napoleon inhabited separate apartments from the others. He took his meals alone, with two dogs to wait upon him, and always ate from the Crown Derby dinner service which had been in the glass cupboard in the drawing-room. It was also announced that the gun would be fired every year on Napoleon’s birthday, as well as on the other two anniversaries….

Meanwhile, through the agency of Whymper, Napoleon was engaged in complicated negotiations with Frederick and Pilkington [humans on nearby farms]. The pile of timber was still unsold. Of the two, Frederick was the more anxious to get hold of it, but he would not offer a reasonable price. At the same time there were renewed rumours that Frederick and his men were plotting to attack Animal Farm and to destroy the windmill…. Snowball was known to be still skulking on Pinchfield Farm.

In the middle of the summer the animals were alarmed to hear that three hens had come forward and confessed that, inspired by Snowball, they had entered into a plot to murder Napoleon. They were executed immediately, and fresh precautions for Napoleon’s safety were taken. Four dogs guarded his bed at night, one at each corner, and a young pig named Pinkeye was given the task of tasting all his food before he ate it, lest it should be poisoned.

At about the same time it was given out that Napoleon had arranged to sell the pile of timber to Mr. Pilkington; he was also going to enter into a regular agreement for the exchange of certain products between Animal Farm and Foxwood….

The animals distrusted Pilkington, as a human being, but greatly preferred him to Frederick, whom they both feared and hated. As the summer wore on, and the windmill neared completion, the rumours of an impending treacherous attack grew stronger.

Frederick, it was said, intended to bring against them twenty men all armed with guns, and he had already bribed the magistrates and police, so that if he could once get hold of the title-deeds of Animal Farm they would ask no questions.

Moreover, terrible stories were leaking out from Pinchfield about the cruelties that Frederick practised upon his animals. … The animals’ blood boiled with rage when they heard of these things being done to their comrades, and sometimes they clamoured to be allowed to go out in a body and attack Pinchfield Farm….

The animals now also learned that Snowball had never — as many of them had believed hitherto — received the order of ‘Animal Hero, First Class.’ This was merely a legend which had been spread some time after the Battle of the Cowshed by Snowball himself. So far from being decorated, he had been censured for showing cowardice in the battle.

Once again some of the animals heard this with a certain bewilderment, but Squealer was soon able to convince them that their memories had been at fault.

In the autumn, by a tremendous, exhausting effort – for the harvest had to be gathered at almost the same time – the windmill was finished…. Moreover, the walls were twice as thick as before. Nothing short of explosives would lay them low this time! …

Two days later the animals were called together for a special meeting in the barn. They were struck dumb with surprise when Napoleon announced that he had sold the pile of timber to Frederick. Tomorrow Frederick’s wagons would arrive and begin carting it away. Throughout the whole period of his seeming friendship with Pilkington, Napoleon had really been in secret agreement with Frederick. …

At the same time Napoleon assured the animals that the stories of an impending attack on Animal Farm were completely untrue, and that the tales about Frederick’s cruelty to his own animals had been greatly exaggerated. …

The pigs were in ecstasies over Napoleon’s cunning. By seeming to be friendly with Pilkington he had forced Frederick to raise his price by twelve pounds. But the superior quality of Napoleon’s mind, said Squealer, was shown in the fact that he trusted nobody, not even Frederick. Frederick had wanted to pay for the timber with something called a cheque, which, it seemed, was a piece of paper with a promise to pay written upon it.

But Napoleon was too clever for him. He had demanded payment in real five- pound notes, which were to be handed over before the timber was removed. Already Frederick had paid up; and the sum he had paid was just enough to buy the machinery for the windmill.

Three days later there was a terrible hullabaloo. Whymper [said] The banknotes were forgeries! Frederick had got the timber for nothing!

Napoleon called the animals together immediately and in a terrible voice pronounced the death sentence upon Frederick. When captured, he said, Frederick should be boiled alive. At the same time he warned them that after this treacherous deed the worst was to be expected. Frederick and his men might make their long-expected attack at any moment. Sentinels were placed at all the approaches to the farm. …

The very next morning the attack came. The animals were at breakfast when the look-outs came racing in with the news that Frederick and his followers had already come through the five-barred gate. Boldly enough the animals sallied forth to meet them, but this time they did not have the easy victory that they had had in the Battle of the Cowshed. There were fifteen men, with half a dozen guns between them, and they opened fire as soon as they got within fifty yards….

Wistful glances were sent in the direction of Foxwood. If Pilkington and his men would help them, the day might yet be won. But at this moment the four pigeons, who had been sent out on the day before, returned, one of them bearing a scrap of paper from Pilkington. On it was pencilled the words: ‘Serves you right.’

Meanwhile Frederick and his men had halted about the windmill. The animals watched them, and a murmur of dismay went round. Two of the men had produced a crowbar and a sledge hammer. They were going to knock the windmill down. …

A mighty cry for vengeance went up, and without waiting for further orders they charged forth in a body and made straight for the enemy. … Even Napoleon, who was directing operations from the rear, had the tip of his tail chipped by a pellet.

… Frederick shouted to his men to get out while the going was good…

The animals slain in the battle were given a solemn funeral. Boxer and Clover pulled the wagon which served as a hearse, and Napoleon himself walked at the head of the procession. There were songs, speeches … and a special gift of an apple was bestowed on every animal, with two ounces of corn for each bird and three biscuits for each dog.

It was a few days later than this that the pigs came upon a case of whisky in the cellars of the farmhouse….. At about half past nine Napoleon, wearing an old bowler hat of Mr. Jones’s, was distinctly seen to emerge from the back door, gallop rapidly round the yard, and disappear in doors again.

But in the morning a deep silence hung over the farmhouse. Not a pig appeared to be stirring. It was nearly nine o’clock when Squealer… called the animals together and told them that he had a terrible piece of news to impart. Comrade Napoleon was dying! …

By the evening, however, Napoleon appeared to be somewhat better, and the following morning Squealer was able to tell them that he was well on the way to recovery. … on the next day it was learned that he had instructed Whymper to purchase in Willingdon some booklets on brewing and distilling.

A week later Napoleon gave orders that the small paddock beyond the orchard, which it had previously been intended to set aside as a grazing-ground for animals who were past work, was to be ploughed up. It was given out that the pasture was exhausted and needed re-seeding; but it soon became known that Napoleon intended to sow it with barley.

About this time there occurred a strange incident which hardly anyone was able to understand. One night at about twelve o’clock there was a loud crash in the yard, and the animals rushed out of their stalls. It was a moonlit night. At the foot of the end wall of the big barn, where the Seven Commandments were written, there lay a ladder broken in two pieces.

Squealer, temporarily stunned, was sprawling beside it, and near at hand there lay a lantern, a paint-brush, and an overturned pot of white paint. The dogs immediately made a ring round Squealer, and escorted him back to the farmhouse as soon as he was able to walk. None of the animals could form any idea as to what this meant, except old Benjamin, who nodded his muzzle with a knowing air, and seemed to understand, but would say nothing.

But a few days later Muriel, reading over the Seven Commandments to herself, noticed that there was yet another of them which the animals had remembered wrong. They had thought the Fifth Commandment was ‘No animal shall drink alcohol,’ but there were two words that they had forgotten. Actually the Commandment read: ‘No animal shall drink alcohol to excess.’

— end of excerpt from Orwell

The Non-Existent Fixated Persons Act

In a Gumshoe article dated February 4, 2019, I incorrectly announced that some states of Australia had passed a “Fixated Persons Act.” (A commenter alerted me to my mistake. The Editor has retracted the article.) However, The New South Wales Police have set up a Fixated Persons Investigation Unit.

The unit – FPIU — has 17 detectives. So far I do not know on what law they are basing this activity. I am endeavoring to find out.

A grandmother, who is involved with a child placed in guardianship against the mother’s wishes, wrote to Gumshoe that she is being investigated by an FPIU. (Her story is told in Gumshoe’s February 9, 2019 article.)

It is extremely good news that Australian politicians have not passed a law saying that it is legal to detain a person on grounds of suspicion that they may be “fixated” – such as fixated on judges.

So how am I connecting this to Orwell and to “beds without sheets”? I wish to make the general point – which I also made in the Grandmother’s article – that it’s easy to slip away from our legal legacy. Animal Farm’s leaders, the pigs, were able to get away with a lot, despite the law being written on the barn wall, as new interpretations could be added (“sheets not beds”), and the true principles could be overlooked (“with cause”).

An article about the Fixated Person Unit, by Rachel Olding in the Sydney Morning Herald, of April 26, 2017, reports that “Mr Fuller said about 50 people were being assessed for the unit.”… “Among them are Joseph Mekhael, a DJ arrested on Anzac Day for shouting anti-war slogans during the minute’s silence in Martin Place.”

As far as I know, war is a bad thing and anyone who wants to point that out is welcome to do so. But giving such a person a label – “fixated” — can indeed (with a little help from a psychiatrist such as Paul Mullen) be made to sound like someone from whom society needs to be protected. Of course this can have a major chilling effect on freedom of speech.

FoxNews.com has a December 30 headline  “Meghan Markle’s sister Samantha placed on royal security ‘fixated persons’ list.” The article says “A Scotland Yard source told the Times, ‘Someone like Samantha presents a risk rather than a threat. She is not committing criminal offenses, but she is causing concerns for the royal family’.”

That could be said of anyone who is not committing criminal offenses but is causing concern among higher-ups. Quite a backtracking on “No animal shall sleep in a bed.” Oops, I mean, quite a backtracking on:

“No free man shall be seized or imprisoned, or stripped of his rights or possessions, or outlawed or exiled, or deprived of his standing in any other way, nor will we proceed with force against him, or send others to do so, except by the lawful judgment of his equals or by the law of the land.” — Magna Charta, 2015