THE WAR FOR THE WORLD
An Afternoon with Sir Winston Churchill & Alexander the Great
A Tale of Two Conquerors, One Troubled Planet.
A Seagull, with Absolutely No Respect for History.
Fact? Fiction? Or perhaps a Little Wisdom from the Other Side?
Chapter One: Two Gentlemen and a Rather Large Problem
It was a glorious afternoon on the south coast of England.
The sort of afternoon the British had spent Centuries waiting,
for only to complain bitterly when it finally arrived.
The Sun Shone.
The Sea Sparkled.
The Famous White Cliffs of Dover stood proudly against a sky so blue,
that even the most miserable Englishman might have been persuaded to remove his cardigan.
A gentle breeze carried the scent of salt, seaweed, vinegar and the faint possibility of rain.
Because this was England.
One must never become too optimistic.
Upon the shingle beach, some distance from the usual collection of holiday makers,
two extraordinary gentlemen sat in traditional striped deckchairs.
Neither belonged to the present Century.
Indeed, one had been dead considerably longer than the other.
But death, as both had discovered, was not quite the end of things.
Rather, it was something of an administrative inconvenience.
Especially when one discovered that Eternity involved a surprising number of committees.
The Gentleman on the left was Sir Winston Leonard Spencer Churchill.
Former Prime Minister.
Soldier.
Writer.
Statesman.
Artist.
Defender of Britain.
A man who had never knowingly allowed a perfectly good cigar to go to waste.
He wore his customary dark suit, although the jacket had been discarded
and hung rather carelessly over the back of his chair.
His black Homburg hat rested upon the corner of the chair.
His trousers were rolled neatly to just below his knees.
His pale legs, having spent a lifetime avoiding unnecessary exposure to sunlight,
glowed like two freshly peeled parsnips.
In his right hand rested a cigar.
In his left, a generous glass of Scotch whisky.
The Gentleman beside him presented an altogether different spectacle.
Alexander III of Macedon.
Known to history as Alexander the Great.
King of Macedonia.
Conqueror of Persia.
Master of an Empire stretching from Greece to the borders of India.
A man who had commanded armies before most modern young men
had mastered the washing machine.
He wore a brilliant white Tunic, draped in the classical fashion,
with a magnificent Royal-Purple Cloak fastened over one shoulder.
Upon his head rested a Golden Laurel Crown.
His sandals were of the finest leather.
His posture was Regal.
His expression was serious.
And his patience was already being tested.
For the third time that afternoon,
Churchill had called him Alex.
"Cheers, Alex!"
Alexander slowly turned his head.
"Alexander."
Churchill took a sip.
"What?"
"My name is Alexander."
"Yes, yes. Quite right."
A pause.
"Lovely afternoon, isn't it, Alex?"
Alexander closed his eyes.
He had faced Persian cavalry.
Indian war Elephants.
Rebellious generals.
Treacherous courtiers.
Entire armies determined to remove his head.
Yet somehow, this elderly Englishman
with rolled-up trousers was proving a greater test
of endurance than all of them combined.
"Alexander," he repeated.
Churchill smiled.
"Of course. Forgive me.
Terrible memory for names."
Alexander looked at him suspiciously.
"You commanded an Empire."
"Indeed."
"You negotiated with Kings."
"Certainly."
"You addressed millions."
"On Occasion."
"Yet you cannot remember one name?"
Churchill removed his cigar.
"My dear fellow, I remember it perfectly well. I simply prefer Alex."
"Why?"
"Fewer syllables. Saves time."
Alexander looked towards France.
He was beginning to understand why the British Empire
had been so difficult to negotiate with.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
The waves rolled gently onto the shore.
A seagull screamed overhead.
Somewhere along the promenade,
a child was crying because his ice cream had fallen onto the pavement.
Churchill listened thoughtfully.
"Sounds rather like the House of Commons."
Alexander frowned.
"What is this House of Commons?"
"A place where elected representatives gather to argue about matters of national importance."
"Do they resolve these matters?"
"Occasionally."
"How?"
"Usually by shouting."
Alexander nodded.
"Ah. A battlefield."
"Without the discipline."
"Interesting."
Churchill turned towards him.
"So, Alex, what do you think?"
"Alexander."
"Yes, yes. What do you think of the World?"
Alexander surveyed the distant coastline.
"Which part?"
"All of it."
"Ah."
The Macedonian King leaned back.
"Well, Winston, I must confess to some disappointment."
"Really?"
"Indeed.
When I departed the world of the living,
I believed mankind would continue to progress."
"It has."
"Has it?"
"Certainly.
We have aircraft, medicine, electricity, computers, satellites, automobiles, television..."
Alexander raised his hand.
"Stop."
Churchill stopped.
"You have machines that fly?"
"Yes."
"Machines that travel beneath the sea?"
"Submarines."
"Machines that communicate across the entire world?"
"Indeed."
"Devices capable of observing the stars?"
"Certainly."
Alexander considered this remarkable catalogue of achievements.
"Then humanity must surely be at peace."
Churchill stared at him.
Alexander stared back.
A particularly large wave crashed upon the shore.
Churchill took a very long drink.
"Well..."
Alexander's face darkened.
"Oh, don't tell me."
"I'm afraid so."
"Still fighting?"
"Constantly."
"Over land?"
"Yes."
"Gold?"
"Certainly."
"Power?"
"Naturally."
"Religion?"
"Frequently."
"Women?"
"Occasionally, although I wouldn't recommend putting it quite like that."
Alexander shook his head.
"Three thousand years of Civilization,
they are still behaving like my generals after too much wine."
Churchill nodded.
"With considerably more dangerous weapons."
"How dangerous?"
Churchill hesitated.
"Well, Alex, we have developed weapons capable of destroying entire cities in moments."
Alexander sat upright.
"Entire cities?"
"Yes."
"Without siege engines?"
"Yes."
"Without armies?"
"Yes."
"Without even entering the city?"
"Precisely."
Alexander stared at the sea.
"By Zeus."
Churchill nodded solemnly.
"Quite."
A long silence followed.
Then Alexander spoke.
"And they call this progress?"
Churchill examined the glowing end of his cigar.
"Technological progress, certainly. Moral progress is proving rather more elusive."
"Then mankind has sharpened its sword without improving the hand that holds it."
Churchill looked at him.
"Rather well put, Alex."
"Alexander."
"Quite."
Chapter Two: The Business of Conquering
"Tell me something, Winston."
"Fire away."
Alexander frowned.
"An unfortunate expression."
"Sorry. Carry on."
"When I was alive, I conquered much of the known world."
"So I've heard."
"Egypt. Persia. Babylon. Lands beyond the great rivers.
Kingdoms whose names were scarcely known in Macedonia."
"An impressive itinerary."
"I was undefeated in battle."
"Indeed."
"I commanded thousands."
"Quite."
"I built Cities."
"Yes."
"I changed the course of history."
Churchill nodded.
"???"
Alexander looked genuinely troubled.
"Where is it?"
"Where is what?"
"My empire."
Churchill gazed out towards the Channel.
"Well, Alex, I'm afraid it's gone."
"Gone?"
"Quite gone."
"All of it?"
"More or less."
Alexander stared in disbelief.
"But I conquered it!"
"Yes."
"I organised it!"
"To a degree."
"I appointed governors!"
"Indeed."
"I named cities after myself!"
"Rather a lot of them, as I understand it."
"Then how could it disappear?"
Churchill settled deeper into his deckchair.
"My dear Alex, that is the difficulty with Empires."
"What difficulty?"
"They have a distressing tendency to end."
Alexander considered this.
"Yours?"
Churchill suddenly became extremely interested in the condition of his cigar.
"My what?"
"Your Empire."
"Ah."
"The British Empire."
"Yes."
"The one upon which the Sun supposedly never set."
"That one."
"Where is it?"
Churchill sighed.
"Mostly independent."
Alexander smiled slowly.
"Independent?"
"Yes."
"Of Britain?"
"Precisely."
"Then your empire disappeared too?"
"Changed, Alex. Changed."
Alexander burst into laughter.
It was not a gentle laugh.
It was the enormous, triumphant laughter of a man who had just discovered that his companion was every bit as mortal as himself.
"Changed!" he roared. "You call losing an empire changing?"
Churchill remained dignified.
"One must adapt."
"Adapt!"
"Yes."
"Did your governors rebel?"
"Some."
"Did your subjects demand freedom?"
"Many."
"Did you fight to retain your possessions?"
"At various times, yes.
There were terrible consequences."
Alexander leaned forward.
"Then we are alike!"
Churchill shook his head.
"Not entirely. Our circumstances were different, our centuries different, our responsibilities different. But we share something rather uncomfortable."
"What?"
"We both lived in Worlds where powerful men believed
they had the right to decide the futures of other peoples."
Alexander fell quiet.
Churchill continued.
"Both of us, from time to time, mistook power for wisdom."
Alexander looked down at his golden goblet.
"I did not always mistake it."
"No. Neither did I."
"But sometimes?"
"Yes."
The two men sat in silence.
Eventually Alexander spoke.
"From the other side, one sees things differently."
Churchill nodded.
"One does."
"When I was alive, I knew the names of my generals. I knew the names of kings. I knew the names of cities."
“Now?"
"Now I know the names of the mothers who buried their sons because of my ambition."
Churchill's expression changed.
Alexander continued.
"There were thousands of them, Winston. Men who never wished to conquer anything. Men who wanted only to return home."
Churchill stared at the distant sea.
"I know."
"You too?"
"Yes."
Alexander looked at him.
"Does the knowledge become easier?"
Churchill slowly shook his head.
"No, Alex. Nor should it."
For a while, only the gulls spoke.
Then Churchill raised his glass.
"To the men who paid for our victories."
Alexander raised his goblet.
"And to those who never returned."
Their glasses touched.
Neither smiled.
Chapter Three: Democracy, Dictators and Other Peculiar Animals
Alexander broke the silence.
"Tell me about these modern rulers."
Churchill immediately brightened.
"Ah! Politics!"
"You enjoy Politics?"
"Immensely."
"Why?"
"Because it combines the Noblest ambitions of mankind
with some of its most ridiculous behaviour."
Alexander considered this.
"Sounds like war."
"Without the horses."
"How does one become a Ruler nowadays?"
"In many countries, through Elections."
"Explain."
"The people vote."
"For whom?"
"For their representatives."
"Why?"
"To decide who shall govern them."
Alexander looked impressed.
"The people choose their King?"
"Not quite."
"Then who?"
"Prime ministers.
Presidents.
Parliamentarians."
"These people are selected for Wisdom?"
Churchill coughed.
"Not necessarily."
"Courage?"
"Sometimes."
"Honesty?"
"One hopes."
"Intelligence?"
"Occasionally."
"Then what qualities determine their selection?"
Churchill looked towards the sky.
"Popularity,
Persuasion,
Party,
Loyalty,
Money,
Public Confidence,
sometimes sheer good fortune."
Alexander frowned.
"Money?"
"Yes."
"One may purchase power?"
"Not legitimately, but wealth can provide considerable Political advantage."
Alexander considered this.
"Then Democracy has not entirely eliminated the Aristocracy."
"No."
"It has merely made the Aristocracy more expensive."
Churchill laughed.
"Splendid!"
"What happens when the people choose a Fool?"
Churchill stopped laughing.
"Well..."
"Do they remove him?"
"Eventually, if the institutions function as intended."
"How long does that take?"
"Depends upon the country."
"Days?"
"No."
"Weeks?"
"Usually not."
"Months?"
"Sometimes."
"Years?"
"Quite possibly."
Alexander looked appalled.
"You allow an incompetent Ruler to remain in charge for years?"
"Constitutional government requires rules, Alex."
"Alexander."
"Yes. Rules."
"What if the Ruler ignores the Rules?"
"Then the institutions must hold him accountable."
"If those institutions are controlled by his friends?"
Churchill paused.
"Then democracy is in considerable danger."
Alexander nodded slowly.
"So the problem is not simply the Ruler."
"No."
"It is whether the people have built a system strong enough to withstand him."
"Precisely."
Alexander gazed towards France.
"In my day, King might inherit his Throne through Blood."
"Yes."
"A General might seize one through force."
"Indeed."
"A tyrant might maintain one through fear."
"Certainly."
"Today, you tell me that people may willingly elect someone who subsequently behaves like a Tyrant."
Churchill sighed.
"History has supplied us with such warnings."
Alexander shook his head.
"Then perhaps Mankind has confused the right to choose with the ability to choose wisely."
Churchill nodded.
"A distinction worth remembering."
Alexander leaned forward.
"What would you do to repair modern Politics?"
Churchill considered the question carefully.
"First, Defend Independent Courts,
Honest Elections,
Free Press
Right to Criticize those in Power."
"Even you?"
"Especially me."
"Why?"
"Because any leader who cannot tolerate criticism is unlikely to tolerate the truth."
Alexander thought about this.
"Interesting."
"Second, I would insist that public office be regarded as service rather than personal property."
"A revolutionary idea."
"Apparently."
"Third?"
"Teach history properly."
Alexander smiled.
"So children may admire us?"
Churchill looked at him sharply.
"So they may understand us. Including our failures."
Alexander's smile faded.
"Ah."
"And fourth, I would make every politician spend one month each year living among ordinary citizens without the comforts of office."
Alexander looked delighted.
"Without guards?"
"Appropriate security, naturally."
"Without servants?"
"Certainly."
"Without banquets?"
"Absolutely."
"Without their own chariots?"
"Most definitely."
Alexander raised his goblet.
"I approve!"
Churchill smiled.
"Though I suspect Parliament would resist."
"Then send in the cavalry!"
"No, Alex."
"Alexander!"
"No cavalry."
"Not even a small one?"
"Absolutely not."
Alexander sighed.
"Democracy is terribly restrictive."
"That's rather the point."
Chapter Four: The Seagull of Dover
Their conversation was interrupted by a cheerful voice.
"Afternoon, Gentlemen!"
A woman approached carrying two large paper parcels.
She was perhaps sixty, with rosy cheeks, sensible shoes,
with the commanding expression of someone
who had spent thirty years dealing with seaside customers.
"Two portions of fish and chips. Extra vinegar. Salt on the side."
Churchill beamed.
"Splendid, Mrs Pritchard!"
Alexander examined the parcels.
"What is this?"
"Your lunch, love."
"Love?"
"Yes, dear."
Alexander sat upright.
"Madam, I am Alexander, King of Macedonia,
Pharaoh of Egypt, Lord of Asia and conqueror of Persia."
Mrs Pritchard looked him up and down.
"That's nice, love.
Do you want mushy peas?"
Churchill nearly dropped his cigar.
Alexander blinked.
"What are mushy peas?"
"Peas, dear. Mashed up."
"Why?"
"Because that's how we make 'em."
Alexander turned helplessly towards Churchill.
Churchill was shaking with laughter.
Mrs Pritchard placed the parcels upon a small table.
"Mind the gulls. Little devils will have your lunch before you can blink."
Alexander waved dismissively.
"I have faced the armies of Darius."
"Have you, love? Well, Darius probably didn't have wings."
She departed.
Alexander watched her go.
"Remarkable woman."
"Indeed."
"She was not impressed by my titles."
"Not in the slightest."
"She called me love."
"Yes."
"Offered me mashed peas."
"Welcome to England, Alex."
"Alexander."
Churchill unwrapped his fish.
"Now, observe. Salt, vinegar, and a little lemon."
Alexander inspected the golden batter.
"Is this a religious ceremony?"
"Good heavens, no. Lunch."
Alexander cautiously tasted a chip.
His expression changed.
He took another.
Then a third.
"By Zeus!"
"Good?"
"Extraordinary!"
Churchill smiled triumphantly.
"British civilization, my boy."
Alexander examined the fish.
"This?"
"Cod."
"From the sea?"
"Yes."
"Cooked in oil?"
"Indeed."
"Covered in this golden substance?"
"Batter."
Alexander took a large bite.
He closed his eyes.
For a moment, the conqueror of Persia
experienced something approaching Spiritual Revelation.
"Winston."
"Yes?"
"I would have invaded Britain for this."
Churchill roared with laughter.
"Plenty have tried!"
Alexander raised his fish.
"I understand why!"
At that precise moment, a shadow passed overhead.
There came a shriek.
A flash of white feathers.
A violent rush of air.
Suddenly Alexander's fish was gone.
For several seconds, neither man moved.
Alexander stared at his empty hand.
Churchill stared at Alexander.
Above them, a particularly enormous seagull flew triumphantly towards the cliffs.
Alexander rose to his feet.
"THIEF!"
Several nearby holiday makers turned.
"RETURN MY PROPERTY!"
The seagull did not return.
Alexander pointed furiously towards the sky.
"WINSTON! SUMMON THE GUARDS!"
Churchill was laughing so hard that tears rolled down his cheeks.
"THE GUARDS!"
"Alex, sit down!"
"THAT CREATURE HAS INSULTED THE CROWN OF MACEDONIA!"
"It has stolen your cod!"
"IT IS AN ACT OF WAR!"
Churchill struggled for breath.
"My dear fellow, you've finally met an enemy that cannot be bribed, negotiated with, or conquered."
Alexander stood rigid.
The seagull landed upon a nearby post.
It swallowed the last of the fish.
Then looked directly at him.
Screamed.
Alexander's face turned crimson.
"It mocks me!"
Churchill wiped his eyes.
"Yes, Alex. I'm afraid it does."
"Alexander!"
The gull screamed again.
Churchill lost control completely.
For the next five minutes, the beach echoed with the laughter
of one former British Prime Minister and the
outraged threats of one Macedonian King.
Mrs Pritchard eventually returned with another portion.
"Here you are, love. On the house."
Alexander accepted it with Solemn Gratitude.
"Madam, your generosity Honours your Kingdom."
"Ta, Dear. Keep it covered this time."
She turned to Churchill.
"Your Mate's a bit Dramatic, isn't he?"
Churchill nodded.
"You have absolutely no idea."
Chapter Five: The Strange Business of Religion
After lunch, the afternoon grew warmer.
Churchill loosened his collar.
Alexander removed his Crown and placed it carefully beside his chair.
The seagull remained nearby, watching.
Alexander kept one eye upon it.
"Tell me, Winston."
"Yes?"
"Why do humans continue fighting over their Gods?"
Churchill looked thoughtful.
"A complicated question."
"Not really."
"How so?"
Alexander gestured towards the Heavens.
"We have both been dead."
"Indeed."
"We have both crossed beyond the physical world."
"Yes."
"We have both discovered that existence is considerably more mysterious than either of us imagined."
"Certainly."
“Yet humanity continues insisting that one particular group possesses the complete explanation."
Churchill nodded slowly.
"Dogma."
"Exactly."
Alexander leaned forward.
"In my time, we had Zeus,
Athena, Apollo, Hera, Poseidon
also a considerable assortment of lesser Gods."
"Quite a collection."
"An extremely troublesome family."
"So I've heard."
"Zeus could barely manage his own romantic affairs, yet was expected to supervise the universe."
Churchill chuckled.
Alexander continued.
"Then came other religions.
Other prophets.
Other sacred books.
Other interpretations."
"Yes."
"Each generation became increasingly certain that its interpretation was the correct one."
"Not everyone,
Alex. There have always been thoughtful believers, doubters and reformers."
"Alexander."
"Naturally."
"But too often,"
Churchill continued,
"Faith becomes entangled with Political Power."
Alexander nodded.
"Then belief becomes a weapon."
"Sometimes."
“The weapon is used against those who believe differently."
"Tragically."
Alexander looked out to sea.
"I have seen men pray before battle."
"As have I."
"I have seen both armies appeal to heaven."
"Indeed."
"Both certain that their gods supported them."
"Yes."
"Then thousands died."
Churchill nodded.
Alexander paused.
"Do you suppose the Gods were confused?"
Churchill smiled faintly.
"I suspect the confusion was entirely Human."
Alexander considered this.
"Perhaps the greatest Religious question is not which God is correct."
"What is it?"
"Whether humanity has understood anything at all."
Churchill raised an eyebrow.
"Rather dangerous territory, Alex."
"Alexander."
"Especially in England."
"Why?"
"Because if you challenge a man's Religion, you may offend him."
“If I challenge his Politics?"
"You may lose a friend."
“If I challenge his football team?"
Churchill became suddenly serious.
"My Dear Fellow, I strongly advise against it."
Alexander laughed.
Then his expression softened.
"Do you know what I find most extraordinary about the other side?"
"What?"
"The absence of borders."
Churchill said nothing.
"No Macedonia.
No Persia.
No Britain.
No India.
No great empires."
"Yes."
"No Passports."
"Quite."
"No Armies."
"Thankfully."
"No Crowns."
Churchill glanced at Alexander's Golden Laurel Wreath.
"Well, apart from decorative ones."
Alexander smiled.
"Everyone arrives as themselves."
“???”
“Then discover that the titles were never the important part."
Churchill looked down at his whisky.
"That is a lesson many of us learned rather late."
Chapter Six: The Women Who Might Have Saved the World
A young mother walked along the beach holding the hands of two children.
One carried a plastic bucket.
The other dragged a small spade.
Alexander watched them.
"Tell me, Winston. Have women finally been allowed to rule?"
Churchill looked surprised.
"Certainly.
Women have become Prime Ministers,
Presidents.
Scientists.
Generals.
Judge.
Astronaut.,
Leaders in almost every field."
Alexander looked impressed.
"Generals?"
"Yes."
"Commanding Armies?"
"Indeed."
"Excellent."
Churchill smiled.
"An unexpected response."
"Why?"
"Some might have assumed a Macedonian king would object."
Alexander shook his head.
"My mother was Olympias."
"Yes."
"A formidable woman."
"So history records."
"She could terrify half the Macedonian court without lifting a sword."
Churchill chuckled.
“The other half?"
"They were already terrified."
Alexander looked towards the children.
"I learned early that courage is not the exclusive possession of men."
Churchill nodded.
"Nor Intelligence."
"Nor Ambition."
"Nor Ruthlessness."
Alexander smiled.
"Especially not Ruthlessness."
Churchill leaned back.
"Yet for Centuries.
Societies excluded Women from positions of Power."
"Foolish."
"Indeed."
"Half the population?"
"Yes."
"Half the Intelligence?"
"At least."
"Half the Talent?"
"Certainly."
Alexander shook his head.
"Then mankind deliberately weakened itself."
"Precisely."
"Why?"
"Tradition.
Fear.
Control.
Prejudice.
A rather persistent belief among some men that possessing a beard
entitled them to Authority."
Alexander laughed.
"Did it?"
"Judging by the results, absolutely not."
They watched the mother help her children construct a sandcastle.
The little boy insisted upon building the highest tower.
The little girl carefully strengthened its foundations.
The boy's tower collapsed.
The girl's remained standing.
Alexander pointed.
"There."
"What?"
"An entire Lesson in Government."
Churchill smiled.
"Indeed."
"The boy desired height."
"Yes."
"The girl considered Stability."
"Quite."
“Without stability, ambition collapses."
Churchill nodded approvingly.
"Perhaps we should send the girl to Parliament."
Alexander studied the children.
"Do you believe women would have prevented all Wars?"
"No, Alex. History gives us no reason to assume that women are Incapable of Ambition, Cruelty or war.
Power can Corrupt anyone."
"Then what difference would equality make?"
"We would no longer be foolish enough to waste half of Humanity's Abilities."
Alexander considered this.
"A much better answer."
"Thank you."
"Alexander."
Churchill stared at him.
"What?"
"You were about to call me Alex."
Churchill smiled.
"You're becoming suspicious, old boy."
Chapter Seven: The Richest Poor World in History
A large Luxury Yacht appeared on the horizon.
Alexander watched it with interest.
"Whose Warship is that?"
"Not a Warship."
"Then what?"
"A Private Yacht."
"Belonging to a King?"
"Possibly. More likely a wealthy businessman."
Alexander studied the enormous vessel.
“What purpose does it serve?"
"Pleasure."
"Pleasure?"
"Yes."
"How many soldiers does it carry?"
"None."
"How many horses?"
"None."
"How much grain?"
"Very little, I imagine."
"Then why is it so large?"
"Because the owner can afford it."
Alexander fell silent.
Then he asked a question.
"Are there still hungry people in the World?"
Churchill nodded.
"Far too many."
"Children?"
"Yes."
"People without Homes?"
"Yes."
"People dying because they cannot obtain Medicine?"
"Yes."
Alexander looked again at the yacht.
“One man possesses enough wealth to build a Floating Palace?"
"Indeed."
"How?"
"Commerce.
Investment.
Inheritance.
Enterprise.
There are many ways."
Alexander considered this.
"In my time, Kings accumulated Treasure."
"Yes."
"Gold. Silver. Jewels. Land."
"Certainly."
"The people suffered when rulers became greedy."
"Frequently."
"Yet your modern World possesses machines
capable of producing food in Enormous Quantities."
"Yes."
"Medicine capable of Curing Diseases?"
"Many."
"Transport capable of moving supplies across Continents?"
"Certainly."
"Then why do people still Starve?"
Churchill was quiet.
Alexander turned towards him.
"Why?"
"Because possessing the means to solve a problem does not guarantee the Political will, Peace, Organization or Resources required to solve it."
Alexander frowned.
"Explain."
"War destroys farms.
Corruption diverts supplies.
Poverty prevents access.
Governments fail.
Markets fail.
Infrastructure fails.
Sometimes people simply refuse to care about suffering they cannot see."
Alexander shook his head.
"Then humanity has conquered distance but not indifference."
Churchill looked at him.
"That is rather good."
Alexander continued.
"When I conquered a city, I could command that food be distributed."
"Was it?"
"Sometimes."
"At other times?"
Alexander lowered his eyes.
"At other times, my soldiers took what they wanted."
Churchill nodded.
"Then you understand that commanding power is not the same as exercising justice."
Alexander looked towards the yacht.
"I understand it better now."
Churchill took a thoughtful sip of Scotch.
"One thing I have learned from observing the living is that wealth itself is not necessarily the enemy."
"No?"
"No. Wealth can build Hospitals, create Employment, fund Discovery, support Education."
"Then what is the enemy?"
"Indifference. Exploitation. Corruption.
The belief that possessing more makes one worth more."
Alexander smiled sadly.
"In other words, greed."
"Among other things."
Alexander watched the waves.
"When I died, they buried me with Honours."
"Indeed."
"My Empire was vast."
"Yes."
"My Treasure Enormous."
"Certainly."
“How much did I take with me?"
Churchill smiled.
"Not a PENNY."
Alexander raised his goblet.
"An expensive lesson."
Chapter Eight: The Machines That Think
A teenager wandered past, staring intently at a smartphone.
He almost walked directly into the two gentlemen.
"Sorry, mate."
He continued without looking up.
Alexander stared after him.
"What was that?"
"A young man."
"No. The object in his hand."
"A smartphone."
"What does it do?"
Churchill sighed.
"Almost everything."
"Everything?"
"It Communicates, Calculates, Photographs, Records, Navigates, Translates, Entertains, provides access to vast quantities of Information."
Alexander looked astonished.
"All in that tiny object?"
"Yes."
"Can it teach philosophy?"
"Certainly."
"Mathematics?"
"Yes."
"Medicine?"
"It can provide information about medicine."
"History?"
"Enormous amounts."
"Can it show the Stars?"
"Indeed."
Alexander leaned forward.
"Then every Citizen possesses access to knowledge that would have astonished Aristotle!"
"Quite."
Alexander's face brightened.
"Then surely mankind has become extraordinarily wise!"
Churchill slowly shook his head.
"Not necessarily."
"Why?"
"Because information and wisdom are not the same thing."
Alexander frowned.
"Explain."
"A person may have access to every library on Earth and still believe the most ridiculous nonsense."
"How?"
"By choosing what confirms his prejudices."
Alexander considered this.
"These machines encourage such behaviour?"
"They can. They can also educate, connect and inspire.
Much depends upon their design and use."
Alexander looked fascinated.
"Can they think?"
"Some modern systems can reason through problems, generate language, recognise patterns perform tasks once thought to require human intelligence."
"Are they alive?"
"That remains a subject of philosophical and scientific debate."
Alexander leaned back.
"Remarkable."
"Indeed."
"Have humans created another kind of mind?"
"Perhaps they are approaching something they do not yet fully understand."
Alexander smiled.
"Then they should be careful."
"Why?"
"Because whenever humans create something powerful, they immediately imagine using it to defeat one another."
Churchill looked grim.
"That danger has not escaped notice."
Alexander continued.
"Can these machines assist doctors?"
"Yes."
"Teach children?"
"Yes."
"Discover new medicines?"
"They can assist scientific discovery."
"Help the blind?"
"Yes."
"Translate languages?"
"Certainly."
"Then why would anyone use them for war?"
Churchill gazed towards the horizon.
"Because mankind has a remarkable talent for turning its
greatest inventions into its greatest threats."
Alexander considered this.
"Fire warms the home."
“Burns the village."
"The wheel transports grain."
“Carries the chariot."
"Metal makes the plough."
"Also the sword."
Alexander nodded.
"Then the machine is not the problem."
"Not entirely."
"The problem is the purpose of the person controlling it."
Churchill raised his glass.
"Precisely."
Alexander looked thoughtful.
"Perhaps humanity should spend less time asking whether machines can think."
“More time asking?"
"Whether humans are willing to."
Churchill laughed.
"Now there's a question!"
Chapter Nine: The War Nobody Wins
The afternoon was beginning to fade.
Across the Channel, France lay beneath a soft haze.
Alexander studied the distant coast.
"Tell me about your greatest war, Winston."
Churchill's expression changed.
"The Second World War?"
"Yes."
"What would you like to know?"
"Did you win?"
"The Allies defeated Nazi Germany,its partners.
Japan surrendered.
The war ended."
"Then victory."
"Yes."
"Glorious?"
Churchill looked at him for a long moment.
"Necessary. But glory is a word best used carefully."
Alexander frowned.
"Why?"
"Because victory came at a terrible price. Tens of millions dead. Cities destroyed. Families shattered. Entire populations persecuted and murdered."
Alexander lowered his goblet.
"And the enemy?"
"Hitler's regime sought conquest and imposed murderous racial persecution.
Its defeat was essential."
Alexander nodded.
"Then you fought against Tyranny."
"Yes. Although the Allies themselves were imperfect,
some of our actions remain subjects of grave moral scrutiny."
Alexander looked surprised.
"You question your own victory?"
"I question the decisions made during it.
That is not the same as questioning the necessity of defeating Nazism."
Alexander considered this.
"In my day, victory justified almost everything."
"That is one of history's most dangerous habits."
Alexander looked down.
"I know."
Churchill continued.
"War sometimes becomes unavoidable when aggression must be resisted.
But that does not make war noble in itself."
Alexander watched a small fishing boat move across the water.
"When I was young, I dreamed of conquering the world."
"Yes."
"I believed that if I conquered enough kingdoms,
I might finally create a single great Civilization."
"Did you?"
"I spread ideas. Founded cities. Connected peoples. But I also destroyed lives,
after my death my empire fractured."
Churchill nodded.
"Ambition can build. It can also devastate."
Alexander looked at him.
"You? Did you dream of empire?"
"Certainly. I was a man of my time, shaped by its assumptions and often blinded by them."
"Even you?"
"Especially me, Alex."
Alexander did not correct him.
Churchill continued.
"I believed deeply in Britain and its institutions. I also held views about empire and race that deserve criticism. History should not turn a man into a marble statue merely because he performed one great service."
Alexander smiled faintly.
"Then perhaps we are both fortunate to be dead."
"How so?"
"We no longer have to defend every foolish thing we once said."
Churchill chuckled.
"Though historians remain determined to remind us."
Alexander looked serious again.
"Winston, do you believe there will ever be a final war?"
"I hope not in the sense of one that destroys us all."
"But a war that ends war?"
Churchill shook his head.
"One cannot reliably manufacture peace through a final act of violence."
Alexander stared at him.
"Then how?"
"By building institutions, reducing injustice, resisting aggression, encouraging diplomacy, protecting human rights and teaching each generation the cost of hatred."
Alexander considered this.
"That sounds more difficult than conquest."
"It is."
"More expensive?"
"Sometimes."
"Slower?"
"Certainly."
“Less glorious?"
"Usually."
Alexander sighed.
"Then humanity will struggle with it."
Churchill nodded.
"Yes."
A silence followed.
Then Alexander asked:
"Would you fight again?"
Churchill looked towards France.
"If tyranny threatened the lives and liberties of others, I would resist it."
"Even knowing the cost?"
"Especially knowing the cost.
One must exhaust peaceful means, but peace cannot simply mean allowing the powerful to crush the weak."
Alexander nodded.
" I?"
Churchill turned towards him.
"What would you do, Alex?"
Alexander stared at the sea.
"I would first ask whether my desire to fight came from necessity or pride."
Churchill smiled.
"A question you might have found useful in your youth."
Alexander laughed softly.
"Indeed."
Chapter Ten: The Other Side of Everything
The sun was lower now.
The White Cliffs glowed with a soft golden light.
The air had cooled.
Churchill placed his empty glass upon the table.
Alexander leaned back.
"Winston."
"Yes?"
"May I ask something?"
"Certainly."
"Do you miss being alive?"
Churchill considered the question.
"Sometimes."
"What do you miss?"
"The smell of paint. The sound of laughter. A good meal. Conversation. The satisfaction of completing a difficult task."
"Not power?"
Churchill smiled.
"Less than I expected."
"Not applause?"
"Occasionally."
"Not the crowds?"
"Only when they were listening."
Alexander laughed.
Churchill continued.
“You?"
Alexander looked thoughtful.
"I miss the dawn."
"The dawn?"
"Before battle. Before the world awoke.
When the camp was silent and the mountains stood against the first light."
"Beautiful."
"Yes."
"What else?"
"My horse."
"Bucephalus?"
Alexander smiled.
"Yes."
"A remarkable animal."
"My greatest companion."
"Better than your generals?"
"Considerably more loyal."
Churchill laughed.
Alexander continued.
"I miss the sound of rivers.
The smell of rain upon dry earth.
The laughter of soldiers around a fire."
He paused.
" I miss being young enough to believe that the World could be conquered."
Churchill looked at him.
"Do you still believe it can?"
Alexander slowly shook his head.
"No."
"Why?"
"Because the world is not something to be conquered."
Churchill waited.
"It is something to be understood."
The old statesman smiled.
"That, my dear Alex, may be the wisest thing you've said all afternoon."
"Alexander."
"Naturally."
Alexander looked towards the heavens.
"Do you know what surprised me most when I arrived on the other side?"
"What?"
"Nobody bowed."
Churchill laughed.
"Nobody?"
"Not one."
"How distressing."
"I announced myself."
"Naturally."
"I declared my titles."
"Of course."
"I explained my victories."
“Then?”
Alexander smiled.
"They asked whether I had been kind."
Churchill became quiet.
Alexander continued.
"Not how many cities I conquered. Not how many enemies I defeated. Not how much treasure I possessed."
"What did they ask?"
"Whether I had loved. Whether I had helped. Whether I had learned."
Churchill stared at the sea.
“Had you?"
Alexander looked down.
"Not nearly enough."
A gentle breeze passed between them.
Churchill spoke softly.
"None of us, Alex. None of us."
Chapter Eleven: Twenty-Four Hours to Save the World
Alexander suddenly sat upright.
"Winston!"
"What?"
"I have an idea."
Churchill looked suspicious.
"That is usually how wars begin."
"No, listen."
"I'm listening."
"What if we were permitted to return to the world for twenty-four hours?"
"Good heavens."
"Knowing everything we now know."
"Yes?"
"And given the opportunity to change its course."
Churchill considered this.
"An interesting proposition."
"What would you do?"
"First, I would summon the leaders of the world's most powerful nations."
Alexander nodded enthusiastically.
"Excellent!"
"Then I would place them all in one room."
"Yes!"
"Without cameras."
"Yes!"
"Without speeches."
"Wonderful!"
"Without advisers whispering in their ears."
"Brilliant!"
"And require them to listen to one another."
Alexander's face fell.
"Listen?"
"Yes."
"For how long?"
"Until they understood the consequences of their decisions."
Alexander sighed.
"I was hoping for something involving elephants."
"No elephants."
"Not even one?"
"No."
Alexander thought for a moment.
"Then I would gather the world's generals."
"Why?"
“To Show them the faces of every child who might die because of their next war."
Churchill nodded.
"An uncomfortable education."
"Then I would gather the wealthy."
"And?"
"Show them what a small portion of their fortunes could achieve when directed towards human need."
"Some already contribute generously."
"Then let their example encourage others."
"Agreed."
Alexander continued.
"I would gather religious leaders."
Churchill raised an eyebrow.
"Careful."
“To ask them one question."
"Which?"
"If your God is truly great, why do you imagine He requires you to hate your neighbour?"
Churchill considered this.
"That would produce quite a discussion."
"Good."
“Politicians?"
Alexander smiled.
"I would make them exchange homes with ordinary families."
"For how long?"
"A year."
"Rather longer than twenty-four hours."
"Then I would issue the order before returning."
Churchill laughed.
Alexander continued.
“Every schoolchild would be taught not only the history of kings and wars, but the history of kindness."
Churchill looked interested.
"Explain."
"The people who fed the hungry. The doctors who healed strangers. The teachers who changed lives. The ordinary people who showed courage without seeking fame."
Churchill nodded.
"An excellent idea."
Alexander leaned forward.
"Why does history remember conquerors more readily than those who prevented suffering?"
Churchill smiled sadly.
"Because destruction is dramatic. Kindness is often quiet."
"Then history has been telling the wrong stories."
"Not entirely. But perhaps it has been neglecting some of the most important ones."
Alexander gazed towards the horizon.
"Then let us change that."
Churchill raised his glass, discovered it empty, and frowned.
"A revolution without refreshment. Most unsatisfactory."
Alexander laughed.
Chapter Twelve: The Greatest Victory
Evening approached.
The beach was becoming quiet.
Families gathered their belongings.
Children dragged buckets across the stones.
A few determined swimmers remained in the water, presumably because the British considered hypothermia a form of character development.
The seagull returned.
It landed several feet from Alexander.
The king narrowed his eyes.
"You."
The gull stared back.
Churchill smiled.
"Careful, Alex."
"Alexander."
"That bird has already defeated you once."
Alexander folded his arms.
"It was an ambush."
"Of course."
"A cowardly attack."
"Naturally."
"Against an unarmed man."
Churchill glanced at the golden goblet.
"Entirely, defenseless."
The gull screamed.
Alexander pointed at it.
"Do not test me!"
Churchill chuckled.
Then, quite unexpectedly, Alexander began to laugh.
Not the proud laughter of a victorious king.
Not the mocking laughter of a conqueror.
But the genuine laughter of a man who had finally discovered the absurdity of taking himself too seriously.
Churchill watched him.
"Something amusing?"
Alexander wiped his eyes.
"Yes."
"What?"
"I conquered kingdoms. Defeated armies. Crossed deserts. Climbed mountains. Survived battles."
"Indeed."
“Here I sit, thousands of years later, defeated by a bird."
Churchill smiled.
"Life has a remarkable sense of humour."
"Apparently death does too."
They sat together watching the sunset.
After a while, Alexander spoke.
"Winston."
"Yes, Alex?"
"Do you believe humanity will survive?"
Churchill took his time answering.
"I believe it can."
"But will it?"
"That depends upon the choices of the living."
Alexander nodded.
"Do you believe they will learn?"
"Some already have."
“The others?"
"Must be persuaded."
“Those who refuse?"
"Must not be allowed to destroy everyone else."
Alexander looked thoughtful.
"When I was young, I believed greatness meant making the world remember my name."
Churchill listened.
"I believed that if I conquered enough territory, built enough cities and defeated enough enemies, I would become immortal."
“In a sense, you did."
"Yes. But I misunderstood immortality."
"How so?"
Alexander looked towards the children playing in the distance.
"A name remembered is not necessarily a life well lived."
Churchill nodded.
Alexander continued.
"Perhaps true greatness is not measured by how much of the world one possesses."
"No?"
"But by how much better one leaves it."
Churchill smiled.
"A worthy ambition."
Alexander looked at him.
"And you, Winston? What have you learned?"
Churchill gazed across the Channel.
"I have learned that courage is not always loud."
Alexander waited.
"Sometimes courage is a soldier standing against overwhelming odds."
"Yes."
"Sometimes it is a politician refusing to surrender to tyranny."
"Indeed."
"Sometimes it is a mother feeding her children when she has barely enough for herself."
Alexander nodded.
"Sometimes it is a stranger defending someone who cannot defend themselves."
"Yes."
“Sometimes..."
Churchill paused.
"Sometimes the greatest courage is admitting that one was wrong."
Alexander considered this.
"That is difficult."
"Terribly."
"For kings."
"Especially."
"For politicians."
"Almost impossible."
They laughed.
Then Alexander asked one final question.
"Winston, do you think the world needs another great conqueror?"
Churchill shook his head.
"No, Alex."
"Another great general?"
"Only when defence requires one."
"Another empire?"
"Certainly not."
"Then what does it need?"
Churchill looked towards the setting sun.
"People with the courage to care about those they will never meet."
Alexander was silent.
"People who understand that their own freedom is safer when others are free."
Churchill continued.
"People who realise that strength without compassion becomes cruelty, and compassion without courage may prove powerless."
Alexander nodded.
“Leaders?"
"Leaders who understand that power is borrowed, not owned."
“Nations?"
"Nations that can love their own countries without despising their neighbours."
Alexander smiled.
“Humanity?"
Churchill took a final draw upon his cigar.
"Humanity must finally learn that civilisation is not measured by the height of its buildings, the speed of its machines or the destructive power of its weapons."
"Then by what?"
"By how it treats the most vulnerable people within it."
The two men fell silent.
The sun touched the horizon.
The sea turned gold.
For a moment, the world appeared peaceful.
Almost innocent.
Alexander slowly raised his goblet.
"To humanity."
Churchill raised his glass.
"To humanity."
"May it finally grow wise."
"Before it grows extinct."
Their glasses touched.
Then Alexander smiled.
"Do you know, Winston, I think I finally understand."
"What?"
"The greatest victory."
Churchill looked at him.
Alexander gestured towards the world before them.
"Not conquering it."
"No."
"Not ruling it."
"No."
"Not possessing it."
"No."
Alexander smiled.
"But leaving it in peace."
Churchill nodded.
"Precisely, Alex."
Alexander sighed.
"Alexander."
Churchill smiled mischievously.
"Yes, yes. Alexander the Great."
"Thank you."
A pause.
"Although..."
Alexander looked suspicious.
"Although what?"
Churchill pointed towards the seagull.
"Alexander the Greatly Defeated."
The seagull screamed.
Churchill roared with laughter.
Alexander stared at him.
Then at the bird.
Then back at Churchill.
Suddenly, the great conqueror began laughing too.
So loudly that the sound echoed across the beach.
Two men.
Two Empires.
Two extraordinary lives.
And several thousand years of human history.
All reduced to laughter beside the sea.
Mrs Pritchard appeared once more.
"Anything else, gentlemen?"
Churchill smiled.
"Another Scotch, if you please."
Alexander raised his goblet.
“Some More fish!"
Mrs Pritchard nodded.
"Coming right up, loves."
She turned to leave.
Then paused.
"Oh, and you might want to move your chairs."
Churchill frowned.
"Why?"
"Tide's coming in."
Alexander looked down.
The water was already creeping around his sandals.
He leapt to his feet.
"WINSTON! THE SEA IS ADVANCING!"
Churchill calmly picked up his hat.
"Yes, Alex. It does that twice a day."
"WE MUST RETREAT!"
"Quite."
"SUMMON THE ARMY!"
"Not necessary."
"THE CHARIOTS!"
"No."
"THE CAVALRY!"
"Absolutely not."
Alexander grabbed his chair.
"THEN WHAT DO YOU PROPOSE?"
Churchill stood, straightened his jacket and looked towards the promenade.
"My dear Alex..."
"ALEXANDER!"
"Quite right."
He smiled.
"I propose we go for another drink."
So they departed.
TheGgreatest Conqueror of the Ancient World.
With one of the most Famous Statesmen of the modern age.
Two Old Souls who had spent their lives fighting for the world.
Only to discover, after death, that the World had never needed conquering.
It had needed understanding.
Somewhere above the White Cliffs of Dover,
a large seagull flew triumphantly into the evening sky.
Carrying the last stolen chip.
EPILOGUE
History Remembers the Men who Conquered the World.
It Remembers the Battles they Fought.
The Kingdoms they Built.
The Enemies they Defeated.
The victories they celebrated.
And the empires that eventually crumbled.
But perhaps history has been asking the wrong question.
Not who conquered the most.
Not who ruled the longest.
Not who accumulated the greatest wealth.
But who made the world a kinder place.
Who prevented a war.
Who fed a hungry child.
Who defended a stranger.
Who chose understanding over hatred.
Who possessed the power to destroy, yet found the wisdom to preserve.
For the greatest victory mankind could ever achieve would be to create a world in which victory no longer requires another human being's defeat.
Perhaps, just perhaps, when humanity finally understands that simple truth...
The War for the World will be over.
THE END
Or, as Alexander might insist...
"THE END, WINSTON!"
"Quite right, Alex."
🤣🥃🏛️
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