David Betz the professor of war studies who has made some worrying predictions about the state of Britain and the ever increasing likelihood that Britain will descend into civil conflict, has published this brilliant skit about Sam Gamgee from The Lord Of The Rings musing on the perilous state of Britain. As someone who is both a great admirer of the world created by JRR Tolkien and, as Professor Betz is, a person who is also very much concerned about the increasing problems that Britons face, I have to say that I like this skit. I just wish it was a skit that didn’t hold so much truth within it.
Professor Betz published this Sam Gamgee parody on his X account (which can be found via the link at the bottom of this article) and it reads thus:
*Samwise Gamgee, standing on a hillock in the Shire, gazing out with a heavy heart, his hands clenched around his trusty gardening spade. The year is 2025, and whispers of the world beyond the Shire have reached even his humble ears.
He speaks, his voice steady but laced with a working hobbit’s blunt honesty.* Well, now, here I stand, Samwise Gamgee, just a gardener with dirt under me nails and a heart full o’ love for the green Shire. But there’s a shadow creepin’ over the world, ain’t there? Not just here, but out there, in that great big mess of a place called Britain.
I’ve heard the tales, carried on the wind—tales o’ rape gangs roamin’ the streets, preying on the innocent, and folk too scared to walk their own paths at night. And I’ve heard, too, of this unrestricted migration, folk pourin’ in like water through a broken dam, no thought to who they are or what they bring.
Now, I ain’t one for grand speeches—Mr. Frodo’s better at that—but I’ve got to speak me mind, plain as a hobbit can. It ain’t right, is it? These gangs, they’re like orcs, skulkin’ in the dark, takin’ what ain’t theirs, ruinin’ lives. I’ve heard tell of lasses, young and old, hurt in ways no decent folk could stomach. And the law? Well, it seems they’re more fussed about keepin’ quiet than keepin’ safe. Back in the Shire, if a bounder tried such wickedness, we’d have him trussed up and sent packin’ before he could blink. But in Britain, they let it fester, like a wound gone bad. Why? ‘Cause they’re scared o’ callin’ a spade a spade, scared o’ sayin’ some folk comin’ in ain’t here for good. That’s cowardice, plain and simple, and it’s lettin’ evil take root.
Now, don’t get me wrong—I ain’t sayin’ every stranger’s a villain. There’s good folk out there, wanderers lookin’ for a better life, same as Bilbo or Frodo seekin’ adventure. But when you open the gates wide and let everyone in, no questions asked, you’re beggin’ for trouble. Back in the day, we had to fight tooth and nail to keep the Shire safe from ruffians and worse. We didn’t just let any old stranger waltz in and start tearin’ up our gardens! You’ve got to know who’s comin’, what they want, and whether they’ll respect the land and its folk. Britain’s forgot that, it seems. They’ve let in too many who don’t care for their ways, who bring harm instead o’ help, and now they’re reapin’ the whirlwind.
I ain’t learned, like Mr. Frodo, but I know this: a home’s only as strong as the folk guardin’ it. If you let in those who’d rather burn it down than build it up, you’re done for. These rape gangs—many of ‘em, I hear, come from places where they don’t see womenfolk as we do, as equals, as friends, as folk to protect. And yet, Britain’s leaders, they hem and haw, too spineless to say, “Enough! We’ll have order, or you’re out!” They’re more worried about offendin’ than defendin’. That’s no way to run a land. It’s like leavin’ the door open for Shelob to creep in and callin’ it kindness.
If I were there, I’d take me spade and stand with the good folk, the ones cryin’ out for justice. I’d say, “Close the gates till you know who’s knockin’. Root out these gangs like weeds in a potato patch. Protect your lasses, your homes, your ways!”
The Shire taught me that love for home means fightin’ for it, not givin’ it away to every passerby. Britain’s got to find that courage again, or it’ll be no better than Mordor, all ash and ruin. Sam pauses, his eyes glistening, then shakes his head. I ain’t one for hate, mind you. I just want the good to thrive, like a well-tended garden. But you don’t get that by ignorin’ the weeds. You pull ‘em out, root and all, and you guard the gate. That’s what I’d do, Samwise Gamgee, and I reckon it’s what any decent hobbit would say, too. He turns, spade over his shoulder, and trudges back to his garden, muttering about the madness of the world beyond the Shire.*
Professor Tolkien based the Shire on the idyllic countryside and the characters that he grew up with. That countryside and the nice, grounded people that ended up as Hobbits in his legendarium, was England and the British. We are in a situation that is in an analogue to the Shire surrounded by Orcs and threatened by the likes of Saruman, a man put in his position in order to inspire and grow the free peoples of Middle Earth but who has ended up as one of their oppressors. Although in his lifetime Professor Tolkien was against treating his legendarium as metaphors for the real human world, it’s difficult not to see these metaphors in the world we live in today. I’ll leave you to work out and decide what are the Orcs in the modern metaphor for the Lord Of The Rings and who is Saruman.
Link to David Betz’s excellent LOTR parody