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Jacob & Bibi: The Private Emails

FROM THE OFFICE OF THE EX-PRESIDENT

February 16, 2018

Dear Bibi:

Hope you don’t mind me writing to you out of the blue – or calling you Bibi. Having seen on TV that you’re about to start having to go through what I’ve been going through here for years, decades actually – you know, bullying over pinko-liberal bullshit by the police, prosecution authorities, public opinion, the vershtunkende media and now my own party, the ANC, which I’ve served faithfully since I was a piccanin – I felt an immediate kinship with you.

And thought I should write to you, to share my experiences with you. After all, I’m almost 10 years older than you and, well, I’ve been through a lot and you look as though you could use all the friends you can get. (I was thinking also, if you don’t mind me saying so, that you could use a few more wives; yours looks very fierce, like a little ingulube we say in isiZulu, a little piggy; don’t know that I’d let her into Nkandla, let alone Mahlamba Ndlopfu. Well, the latter’s not mine any more anyway; so who cares?)

Yes, I know: you’ve been told I’m close to illiterate and can hardly add one and one, let alone write a letter in cogent English with the occasional Yiddish word thrown in for good measure.

Of course I’ve kept up the pretence for years that I’m basically an illiterate herd boy. Best way to keep the media and various other arseholes at arm’s length. I once read somewhere (during my secret “reading sessions” late at night, when all the wives were safely abed) that your Moshe Dayan, though he could speak English pretty well, always used an interpreter during interviews in English. He said it gave him time to think. Well, same sort of idea; though who needs thinking?

As for the Yiddish – ach, easy-peasy. My mother was a maid – now called in PC-speak, a domestic – for a Jewish family in Durban in the late 1940s and the very kind lady there, a Mrs Ginsburg, taught me a bit of the language from the old country. I tried to help her with some isiZulu but it didn’t stick. Well, vos veis a khazer von lokshen, hey? Heh-heh.

Have to start packing now; Cyril the nebbish is hassling. Let me know what’s happening with you. I’ll try to help.

Best

Jacob


 

THE PRIME MINISTER’S BUREAU

February 16, 2018

Dear Jacob

Very kind of you to write. Yes, we’re in this together, though I was shocked late last night to hear that you had resigned from office. It put me right off my Partagas Serie D, which is an expensive little mishap, as you might well imagine. Even another glass of pink bubbly was insufficient to wash the bitter taste of defeat from my mouth. When one of us goes, we all go a little, as I told Ilham Aliyev of Azerbaijan a few months ago during one of his regular wobblies.

Had this correspondence begun earlier, I would have made every effort to persuade you to sit tight, however virulent the neo-apartheid slander against you. Ever since we Jews went like lambs to the slaughter, the word resignation has been banned from our lexicon. We never forget, we never apologize and we never resign. And we never acknowledge wrongdoing either. As Lennie Bruce put it, “even when they find you with your cock in her mouth, deny it!”

Talking of cocks brings me back to what you wrote about the Stasi, otherwise known as my wife Sara. My friend, you have no idea how fierce she really is. I don’t know what your Afrikaans word ingulube means, but if it’s along the lines of “diseased insane bitch” then you’re on the right track. But I’m legally (a long story) and politically obliged to support the cow and pretend I love her. We politicians pay a heavy price for our values.

What I don’t understand is how any man can have four or five of them and remain sane – remain standing, even. Can you fill me in? I assume it has something to do with divide and rule or splitting the enemy; always rotating to the next when the situation nears hand-to-hand combat. But I don’t think I have the balls for it. And then there’s the kids. Imagine having more than one grasping and vicious little prick like Yair!

But back to our present troubles. My friend, I survive by viewing my predicament in historical terms. I am not alone and not unique. Uncountable numbers of Jews before me have been burned at the stake, drawn and quartered, gassed and incinerated for doing what’s good for the Jewish people. For standing up for our people, drawing a line in the sand and exclaiming, “Thus far and no further!”

Like Ann Frank before me, I sit in my little hideaway, writing to you, while the anti-Semites bay for my blood below. The Israel Police that ordered this inquisition is only the most recent Jewish institution to fall prey to the cancer of anti-Zionism and Jewish self-hate. They see me for what I am – a dedicated and determined son of the Jewish people – and their hatred consumes them. BDS, George Soros, all the peaceniks and Arab-lovers – they are determined to bring me down because only I see straight through them.

Jacob, be strong in this hour of testing. Chazak ve’ematz! The weak and the envious begrudge us all and any reward for the unstinting service we provide our people, but we are the true sons of the nation.

I am cc-ing this letter to my strategic adviser Lior Horev who may have some ideas about how to retrieve your situation after being bullied and harassed into resignation.

Shalom

Bibi

PS: I’ve heard that your country makes a decent grape. If you want to ship over a few crates of bubbly for the harridan, the Jewish People would be most grateful