Satan visits South Africa

Satan was getting bored. He had spent several weeks idly twirling his globe of the world, noting with glum satisfaction the number of countries which had recently fallen under his sway, but now he was beginning to feel that the time had come for him to stretch his wings and see for himself what was going on in various parts of his empire.

The globe slowly came to rest and Satan’s bloodshot eyes focused on a country he had not visited for at least half-a-century. Its name rang bells for him: South Africa. “That’s it!”, he exclaimed. “I’ll visit this land, which is dear to my heart, to see what sort of mess they’ve made of it! The last time I was there I was close to fomenting a bloody civil war between blacks and whites when some wretched saintly figure, whom I thought I had effectively got rid of, rose up from one of my island outposts and sent out a shower of rainbow sparks all over the place, dazzling the people into thinking that everyone was equal. This monster managed to undermine something which I had been working towards for more than three hundred years. Now I need to see whether there is any hope of reclaiming my domain and plunging it once more into darkness.”

Satan convened his council of demons and demonettes, who were ecstatic at his decision to re-conquer his lost territory. They were full of good advice about how to do this, especially how to poison people’s minds. Naturally, he would have to disguise himself in order to win people’s trust, but this proved to be a thorny problem. If he were to adopt a black persona, he might alienate the whites, and vice versa. Anyway, colour no longer seemed to be the divisive issue. Religion seemed to matter more these days.

Suddenly he hit upon a brilliant idea. “I know!” he exclaimed. “I’ll become Jew! After all the Jews are like me in so many ways. They have magical powers and they can infiltrate any community. They can pretend to be everyone’s friend and take on whatever colour – red, blue, black or white – best suits their nefarious purposes. Meanwhile, they can suck the secrets out of the souls of those onto whom they latch. That’s the answer!”

So Satan transformed himself into a Jew, and set forth on his travels, kitted out in full Jewish regalia. His wardrobe mistress had dug out of her collection a smart black velvet kaftan, into which his tail was discreetly tucked out of sight, and a large fur lined shtreimel which neatly concealed his horns. She was especially pleased to have found an armband for him too, neatly embroidered with a Magen David, just in case there might be any mistake about his identity. And his make-up lady had done a fine job fastening a couple of peyes to his temples and planting a luxuriant beard onto his chin. Satan was well pleased with his appearance. Thus attired, he landed in a cloud of dust in a remote part of the country named Bobbejaan Spruit, on the outskirts of Johannesburg.

Unfortunately, the ladies who were responsible for transforming his appearance had not kept up with the times. Satan received his first shock when a gang of white youths greeted him with derisive laughter, called him a filthy Yid and began pelting him with stones. His garb had clearly sent out the wrong message and he was obliged to beat a hasty retreat into the shelter of a nearby synagogue.

Here he received another setback. A service was in progress and the congregation turned as one to stare at this bizarrely dressed stranger. One of the congregants gently took him aside and pointed out that the festival of Purim was still some way into the future and that fancy dress was not appropriate on a solemn occasion such as the present.

Yet another shock awaited Satan when he tried to mingle with the local black community. He was soon surrounded by an ugly crowd who greeted him with cries of “Jew! You are nothing but greedy scum! You rob us! You exploit us! You take away our businesses and then you pretend to be our friend! We don’t need your sort here! Go back to your own kind, go to your Zionist friends in Israel! Voetsak!”

Satan’s hastily compiled glossary of South African terms did not cover all the words of abuse showered on him, but the message was clear enough. He beat a hasty retreat until he found himself alone in the wilderness, wishing that he was back in Hell.

After receiving a few more setbacks, including some cuts and grazes and a tear in his kaftan, Satan decided that the business of being a Jew was more difficult than he had anticipated and aborted his visit. Without further ado he ordered his Minister of Transport to spirit him back to Hell forthwith.

Shortly after his arrival back home, Satan summoned a meeting of his council to report on his mission. When he rose to address them, they were taken aback by his appearance. He seemed to have aged a few hundred years, the devilish glint in his eyes had faded and he looked tired and haggard, as if his whole system had suffered a terrible shock.

There was a long pause while he shuffled through his notes, occasionally stroking the beard which he had forgotten to remove. Then he started to speak, his voice croaking with emotion. “Friends”….he began. “Friends”….and yet again, “Friends”…

Finally, he pronounced a single sentence, which none of the gathering could understand. ”Es ies shver tsu zeyn a Yid.” Then he promptly sat down and collapsed in a heap.

From that point on, the word “Jew” was seldom mentioned in Hell. Other words took its place, of course, “Israeli” and “Zionist” being two of the most popular. But Satan’s voyage of discovery had changed his perception forever and most of his demonic minions, fearful of falling foul of the Lord of Darkness, knew better than to utter the one word which had shaken their master to the core.