As broadcasted on the Events channel on 21th September 2004.
New citizens of Egypt, welcome back to the land of your fathers.
Not too long ago, your ancestors strived to create a perfect society in this land. They succeeded, creating a paradise on earth, a place that perfected all the virtues despite the adversities they faced.
Despite? Nay, because of the adversities, they flourished. But soon we were to discover that it is complacency that is the true threat....
A society that deems itself perfect has no room to grow, only to stagnate. Perhaps Egypt could have avoided this fate. Events conspired otherwise, and we shall never know.
When we drove back the sulphurous algae from the Nile, the lands were rendered fertile beyond anyone's expectations. Life bloomed and grew. For twenty years, any plant that touched seed to soil bore fruit a hundredfold. Perhaps complacency had already begun, for why would we grow vegetables when the land itself produced more than we could eat?
The end came quickly. It was not the end of the Nile's fertility, merely a single bad year. Maybe the weather was too hot, the waters too high, the flooding too late. I do not know. What I do know is that one year, Egypt had fewer plants in the spring.
The animals that had multiplied in the easy years were still there, though, still hungry. A generation of animals had never faced a single hardship, knowing neither hunger nor predator. That generation did not last long when food supplies fell. The smell of carcasses was stronger than the sulphur waters had ever been.
Before they died of hunger, though, they ate as much as they could. Every green thing within walking distance of the Nile ended up in something's belly. It was a hard year for your ancestors. It was their last year in Egypt.
When the magnitude of the problem became apparent, it was too late. To reap in the fall, you must sow in the spring. Some people left that summer, headed to other lands for food. Some lived well on the animals that year, but the meat could not last forever. They, too, went in search of other game.
There were fewer in Egypt a year later, with few plants to feed them. They got by, but a few more left. Another year passed, and a drought began. More people left. Then a few more. Finally, I was the only one left.
When the Nile again began to give life, I was the one here to see it. I waited for my friends to return, but perhaps they thought I had gone elsewhere. I have been here, waiting for you. Welcome back to Egypt. Welcome home.
Things have changed a bit since you left. A generation or two is all it takes for a building to fall down. Some of them are probably still up; I have not been around to check them all. The schools have been rebuilt, which is good. You have much to learn.
You have answered your Pharaoh's call to return. Perhaps you thought to grow fat on the largesse of your ancestors. You heard the stories about the paradise we built, and you have come for your piece. Perhaps you are just loyal, or homesick. I know not why you are here, only that you are here.
I also know that now is the time of your struggle. In a generation of leisure and another of adversity, you have forgotten much. I daresay that I can remember much myself. We shall learn together.
We shall not be like the beasts of the field, living or dying by nature's whim. We shall not strive to become complacent, defenseless like those poor animals. We shall overcome the challenge of creating a new life here.
You came here seeking your perfect society. You shall have it. You shall make it. As my parent's generation overcame the Stranger's challenges, so shall you face your own challenges. I remember the old days, and I have found the monuments left behind. I shall guide you into the adversity that shall make you stronger.
When the day comes that the Nile does not give you life, you shall create life yourself. When the greatest of opponents comes to test your strength, you shall be found the victor. The Seven Disciplines lie before you again, yours to perfect.
I hope that you are up to the challenge. Egypt has fallen beneath the sands before, and it may fall again if you cannot create a lasting perfection. Some say that the candle that burns the brightest burns the fastest, but I look to Ra. The eye of the heavens remains eternal, and so may your legacy.
I will be among you, helping you as I can, as perhaps only I can. Some of you have already begun the petty squabbling that nearly destroyed the Nile forever. You shall know my work by its fruit, for I bring the fire that tempers the blade.
There are many traditions to maintain, so let us name the first one: You may know me as the Stranger, for while I never met the architect of our first success, I have come to see that we should never have called the struggle won.
I take this mantle with humility and not a little fear. I have seen these lands empty once, and I would hate to be alone again. I fear much in my old age, but I still have hope.
Redeem your forefathers' work. Perfect your society.