In a very light-hearted interlude while listening to Vivaldi’s soothing motet Nulla in Mundo Pax Sincero (There is no real peace in the world) I suddenly recalled an Aesop fable I came across at primary school 80 years ago. Here is its modern version.

The Mice Synod of Europe has recently held an urgent summit meeting in Brussels in order to prevent a mischievous Libyan cat from wreaking further havoc to their African brethren.

During an emotional debate when rivers of crocodile tears swamped the ornate assembly hall, prosperous members of this elite revered Synod finally agreed nem con that a loud sonorous bell be securely tied round the fat neck of the Libyan cat to eliminate the dangers of a possible genocide.

At the final stages an old member of the Synod rose up and in a squeaky hoarse voice addressed the jubilant assembly: “My dear friends, you have found an effective solution but do we have any volunteers to do the job? Who is going to bell the naughty cat?”

A deep silence reigned in the hall and suddenly the flustered mice turned tail and scurried away following the Pied Piper of Berlin to the cold river nearby freezing in the ice of their indifference.

And the poor Africans still drown in the blue Mediterranean, the Cradle of Civilisation, the Sea of Man’s Destiny, the Sea of Love which has now become the largest watery grave in the world.