It’s been four long months since school started. It’s almost time for winter break. Cruising through this last week is really tempting. Right?
Of course, it is. Always has been, but early in my teaching days, I stumbled upon an antidote: a 1930’s-vintage short story entitled ”Leiningen Versus the Ants” by a German author named Carl Stephenson. For 40-plus years, it was my 7th Grade guys’ final assignment before they headed off for the holidays.
Though the story is long, the prose stilted in spots and some of the vocabulary a bit challenging, it reads well, it’s exciting and it teaches some really valuable lessons that translate beyond the cinderblock walls of the classroom.
The narrative is set deep in the Amazon jungle where a dynamic, self-assured, strong-willed planter named Leiningen uses his mind-over-matter cunning, meticulous planning and extraordinary courage to defend himself and his loyal crew of indigenous laborers from 20 square miles of rapidly encroaching, ravenous army ants.
The story begins with a government official frantically begging Leiningen to evacuate in the face of the onslaught. Unimpressed, he steadfastly refuses under the premise that he has prepared for any eventuality and would use his superior intelligence to defeat even the most virulent forces of nature.
In short order, the ants appear on the horizon in all their fury, and Leiningen displays such uncommon confidence and poise that his superstitious, wary workers are undeterred.
The action heats up as the ants begin their assault across the first line of defense, a horseshoe-shaped water ditch. Realizing that their might is greater than he anticipated, Leiningen calmly summons his troops, stands grandly before them, and offers them the opportunity to retreat to safety across the river (to which the ditch connects) as their families and livestock had done earlier. Of course, no one flinches.
As the onslaught continues, the legion withdraws to higher ground, a safer haven surrounded by a concrete-lined trench into which petrol flowed from large cisterns. The plan is to ignite the petrol and immolate the remaining ants. Alas, the supply is limited, the ants are relentless, and Leiningen’s best-conceived strategy only delays the inevitable.
Then, with devastation imminent, the indefatigable Leiningen stands once again before his men, thanks them for their loyalty, praises their effort and utters the dramatic words, “I called the tune. Now I’m going to pay the piper.”
In the climactic scene, Leiningen shrouds himself in an array of “armor,” runs two miles through “the crawlers” to the dam, diverts the river to flood the plantation, then runs two miles back and leaps to relative safety as the inundation washes away the remaining assailants.
Though the ants have razed the plantation, everyone – save Leiningen – escapes virtually unscathed. As the narrative concludes, Leiningen – tattered and torn, bloody but unbowed – settles into a well-earned sleep.
This victory-of-good-over-evil story speaks volumes.
It speaks to courage, to facing adversity without fear, to refusing to capitulate despite supposedly insurmountable odds.
It speaks to accountability. Leiningen admitted his miscalculation. He made no excuses. He placed no blame. He owned his mistake and acted decisively to remedy it.
It speaks to respect. Through his actions and bearing, his honesty and transparency, Leiningen commanded the abiding respect of his workers. In turn, they respected him and trusted him, literally, with their lives.
It speaks to servant leadership. While Leiningen was clearly in command, he thrust himself into the breach rather than remaining safely on the sideline. And when a death-defying act was the only salvation, he never considered sending a subordinate. He accepted responsibility without a second thought.
In his novel Ishmael: An Adventure of the Mind and Spirit, Daniel Quinn states, “Charisma only wins people’s attention. Once you have their attention, you have to have something to tell them.” Leiningen had charisma. He won the hearts and minds of his men. He cared about them. He cared about their families. He spoke the truth. He “talked the talk.” He “walked the walk.”
The lessons in ”Leiningen Versus the Ants” resonate. They're time-honored. They’re universally relevant, never more so than in these turbulent, divisive times.