In a development that could have been penned by a lovesick computer with a taste for tragedy, a retired Nigerian general has expired while in captivity, prompting the United Kingdom to solemnly pledge its support for hostage negotiation reforms. The general, whose name has been forgotten in the fog of war and the gin-soaked haze of this correspondent's memory, apparently decided that the indignity of being held captive was too much to bear, and so he simply stopped being. The UK government, never one to miss an opportunity to look busy, immediately convened a committee of suits to discuss the theoretical refinements of talking people out of being kidnapped.
This is, you understand, the British diplomatic equivalent of rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic while the iceberg sends its regards. The hostages themselves, presumably still in captivity somewhere between a dusty compound and a YouTube video, will no doubt be thrilled to learn that their plight has inspired hours of high-level discussion about the correct usage of semi-colons in ransom notes. Meanwhile, the real hostage negotiators, those poor souls who spend their days trying to convince balaclava-wearing enthusiasts that a duffel bag full of used banknotes is not a love letter, must be weeping into their lukewarm tea.
But let us not be churlish. The UK has a proud tradition of solving problems by making statements about them. Remember the time we solved world hunger?
No, neither does anyone else. But we did issue a very strongly worded letter about it. So it is with this general's death.
He may be gone, but he will live forever in the minutes of a meeting that will never be read by anyone who matters. The Nigerian government, for its part, has expressed a sort of dignified confusion, as if they expected everyone to just ignore this and move on to the next coup. But no, the international community must have its pound of flesh, even if that flesh is currently in a body bag.
So we shall have reforms. We shall have taskforces. We shall have detailed reports with bullet points and pie charts, all designed to ensure that the next time a retired general is kidnapped, he will be safely recovered in time for his funeral.
The future is bright. The future is negotiated. The future is a committee meeting that runs into overtime and concludes with a vague promise to "
look into it." Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a date with a bottle of gin that has been waiting patiently for my attention. It, at least, does not require diplomatic immunity.
