09-11-2019, 02:23 PM
What Aelurians Want
Julena House Press Room, Liaville, Aeluria
11th September 2019 – morning
“First Minister, are you concerned that the central government will object to this legislation?” asked Claire Carter, a Lauchenoirian Guardian journalist.
“No, Claire, I’m not. The Private and Religious Education bill is fully within our remit since the passage of the new Lauchenoirian constitution. No longer can the central government claim it is illegal for private religious schools to operate, and education has been a devolved policy since the end of the dictatorship in 1993. They can object, but they have no legal basis to do so. Raul?” responded Nazario Macías, First Minister of Aeluria
“How would you address the concerns of many that this will take away the choice of children to decide for themselves which religion to follow?” asked Raul Obiols, of broadcaster Lauchenoirian Broadcasting Network, the producers of Breakfast in Buttercity, the show now notoriously interrupted and taken off air by Chaher’s troops following the coup.
“Individuals are, of course, free to choose their religion, and these private schools will be required to follow the normal curriculum and teach pupils about other religions, which will enable them to make an informed choice. But parents should have options too. It should be the right of the parent to choose the best education for their child. Instead, right now, parents are being forced to make difficult choices, with some even being arrested just for wanting what is best for their child. This is a situation which cannot continue, and this bill will be the first step in addressing this. One last question. Marco?”
“What of Lurite parents who cannot afford private fees?” asked Marco Polley of the Liaville Times.
“I imagine schools will put in place scholarship programmes to assist with those who struggle with fees, although unfortunately due to the limitations of the Lauchenoirian constitution in religious matters it is impossible for us to fund such things ourselves. Despite the best efforts of Prime Minister Noguera at the time, concessions had to be made. That’s all, thank you.”
Macías exited the room as a multitude of voices yelling “First Minister” echoed behind him. His Chief of Staff, Alyssa Robinson passed him a coffee as she joined him in walking down the corridor.
“That went well,” he said to her.
“Indeed, it did, far better than some other press conferences I’ve had the misfortune of attending. You’re beginning to win back the trust you lost after the failed referendum. Most people on the island support this bill, you shouldn’t have any trouble with it,” Alyssa said, as they walked.
The corridor in which they travelled was light and airy, the carpet and walls decorated in pastel colours, with various small plants dotted around. The Lurian religion was important to Aelurians, and indoor plants were kept in every room in a Lurite household, to increase the inhabitant’s closeness to nature. Though Macías was not devout, it would not do to have the First Minister of Aeluria living and working somewhere without plants.
“You were at the press conference where Noguera announced rationing, weren’t you? I tell you, all of us in the cabinet were afraid to set foot outside our houses for a few hours after that one, lest we run afoul of a lynch mob,” Macías shook his head.
“That one was probably the most stressful of all, yes. I remember watching the ships surround the island at the start of the blockade. It was a terrible time, and I wasn’t entirely sure if we would survive it. But we did.”
“But we did,” Macías agreed.
“I’m slightly concerned that the environmental protests in Buttercity are going to get out of hand, sir. There are a lot of Aelurians there, and you know how the far-right will target them if there’s any violence. We may need to prepare a response in case anything, well, happens,” Alyssa grimaced apologetically.
“I hope it doesn’t, but prepare something just in case. I wonder if I should make a statement on the Manauia Island matter myself. It strikes me that Xiomera is about to do to them what Lauchenoiria did to us in the 1950s,” Macías shook his head.
“Sir, I would advise against that. It would only serve to anger the Xiomerans, and they could become a crucial ally to Aeluria in the future. They already have a strained relationship with the mainland, they could potentially take our side if any disputes between us and the mainland heat up again,” Alyssa pointed out.
The pair arrived at the First Minister’s office, entering. Macías took his seat and Alyssa stood nearby, next to an oddly shaped tree which twisted and turned in a pot by the desk. The trunk was smooth to the touch, but patterned to look at, and Alyssa knew that when Keitha Noguera had been First Minister, she had liked to stroke the leaves of the tree when she was stressed and didn’t know what to do. It had happened a lot during the war.
“You make a good point,” sighed Macías. “Very well, I will refrain from angering the Xiomerans for the time being. I believe there’s meant to be another protest outside their embassy today, in addition to the big ones?”
“That is correct, yes,” nodded Alyssa.
“I’d like a report on that when it happens. In the meantime, I believe I’ve got another appointment with a parents’ group?”
“You do, sir. Christians, afraid that the increased support for Lurites will lead to religious discrimination. You have the talking points?”
“Religious schooling will be open to Christians and other religions too, it will benefit all on the island, not just Lurites, and could lead to greater understanding and respect for a variety of belief systems,” Macías recited.
“Good, shall I send them in?” Alyssa asked.
“Yes, please do so. No need to stay, I know you have reports to be writing.”
“Very well, sir,” Alyssa said, exiting the room and informing the group of Christian parents waiting outside that they could enter. Once they were settled, she took off down the corridor, humming softly to herself in the sunlight coming in the large windows. Julena House wasn’t a very secure building, she thought, but it was beautiful.
She walked into her own office, and the light level dropped. She breathed a sigh of relief to finally be alone. Her job had become exceedingly stressful since the end of the war. She had thought that the war would be the height of it, but since then she had found herself unable to sleep at night. The promotion hadn’t helped at all, and Macías had been a more demanding boss than Noguera ever was.
Still, she reasoned, at least the smoking had stopped. Throughout the war, it had become impossible to breathe on the island. She was very grateful for the federal law prohibiting tobacco, and that she wasn’t a Kvaskm or Shuellian, or any of the other myriad nations where smoking was common. She sighed, and sat down at her desk, turning one of the screens to a 24-hour news channel and getting to work on her reports.
Julena House Press Room, Liaville, Aeluria
11th September 2019 – morning
“First Minister, are you concerned that the central government will object to this legislation?” asked Claire Carter, a Lauchenoirian Guardian journalist.
“No, Claire, I’m not. The Private and Religious Education bill is fully within our remit since the passage of the new Lauchenoirian constitution. No longer can the central government claim it is illegal for private religious schools to operate, and education has been a devolved policy since the end of the dictatorship in 1993. They can object, but they have no legal basis to do so. Raul?” responded Nazario Macías, First Minister of Aeluria
“How would you address the concerns of many that this will take away the choice of children to decide for themselves which religion to follow?” asked Raul Obiols, of broadcaster Lauchenoirian Broadcasting Network, the producers of Breakfast in Buttercity, the show now notoriously interrupted and taken off air by Chaher’s troops following the coup.
“Individuals are, of course, free to choose their religion, and these private schools will be required to follow the normal curriculum and teach pupils about other religions, which will enable them to make an informed choice. But parents should have options too. It should be the right of the parent to choose the best education for their child. Instead, right now, parents are being forced to make difficult choices, with some even being arrested just for wanting what is best for their child. This is a situation which cannot continue, and this bill will be the first step in addressing this. One last question. Marco?”
“What of Lurite parents who cannot afford private fees?” asked Marco Polley of the Liaville Times.
“I imagine schools will put in place scholarship programmes to assist with those who struggle with fees, although unfortunately due to the limitations of the Lauchenoirian constitution in religious matters it is impossible for us to fund such things ourselves. Despite the best efforts of Prime Minister Noguera at the time, concessions had to be made. That’s all, thank you.”
Macías exited the room as a multitude of voices yelling “First Minister” echoed behind him. His Chief of Staff, Alyssa Robinson passed him a coffee as she joined him in walking down the corridor.
“That went well,” he said to her.
“Indeed, it did, far better than some other press conferences I’ve had the misfortune of attending. You’re beginning to win back the trust you lost after the failed referendum. Most people on the island support this bill, you shouldn’t have any trouble with it,” Alyssa said, as they walked.
The corridor in which they travelled was light and airy, the carpet and walls decorated in pastel colours, with various small plants dotted around. The Lurian religion was important to Aelurians, and indoor plants were kept in every room in a Lurite household, to increase the inhabitant’s closeness to nature. Though Macías was not devout, it would not do to have the First Minister of Aeluria living and working somewhere without plants.
“You were at the press conference where Noguera announced rationing, weren’t you? I tell you, all of us in the cabinet were afraid to set foot outside our houses for a few hours after that one, lest we run afoul of a lynch mob,” Macías shook his head.
“That one was probably the most stressful of all, yes. I remember watching the ships surround the island at the start of the blockade. It was a terrible time, and I wasn’t entirely sure if we would survive it. But we did.”
“But we did,” Macías agreed.
“I’m slightly concerned that the environmental protests in Buttercity are going to get out of hand, sir. There are a lot of Aelurians there, and you know how the far-right will target them if there’s any violence. We may need to prepare a response in case anything, well, happens,” Alyssa grimaced apologetically.
“I hope it doesn’t, but prepare something just in case. I wonder if I should make a statement on the Manauia Island matter myself. It strikes me that Xiomera is about to do to them what Lauchenoiria did to us in the 1950s,” Macías shook his head.
“Sir, I would advise against that. It would only serve to anger the Xiomerans, and they could become a crucial ally to Aeluria in the future. They already have a strained relationship with the mainland, they could potentially take our side if any disputes between us and the mainland heat up again,” Alyssa pointed out.
The pair arrived at the First Minister’s office, entering. Macías took his seat and Alyssa stood nearby, next to an oddly shaped tree which twisted and turned in a pot by the desk. The trunk was smooth to the touch, but patterned to look at, and Alyssa knew that when Keitha Noguera had been First Minister, she had liked to stroke the leaves of the tree when she was stressed and didn’t know what to do. It had happened a lot during the war.
“You make a good point,” sighed Macías. “Very well, I will refrain from angering the Xiomerans for the time being. I believe there’s meant to be another protest outside their embassy today, in addition to the big ones?”
“That is correct, yes,” nodded Alyssa.
“I’d like a report on that when it happens. In the meantime, I believe I’ve got another appointment with a parents’ group?”
“You do, sir. Christians, afraid that the increased support for Lurites will lead to religious discrimination. You have the talking points?”
“Religious schooling will be open to Christians and other religions too, it will benefit all on the island, not just Lurites, and could lead to greater understanding and respect for a variety of belief systems,” Macías recited.
“Good, shall I send them in?” Alyssa asked.
“Yes, please do so. No need to stay, I know you have reports to be writing.”
“Very well, sir,” Alyssa said, exiting the room and informing the group of Christian parents waiting outside that they could enter. Once they were settled, she took off down the corridor, humming softly to herself in the sunlight coming in the large windows. Julena House wasn’t a very secure building, she thought, but it was beautiful.
She walked into her own office, and the light level dropped. She breathed a sigh of relief to finally be alone. Her job had become exceedingly stressful since the end of the war. She had thought that the war would be the height of it, but since then she had found herself unable to sleep at night. The promotion hadn’t helped at all, and Macías had been a more demanding boss than Noguera ever was.
Still, she reasoned, at least the smoking had stopped. Throughout the war, it had become impossible to breathe on the island. She was very grateful for the federal law prohibiting tobacco, and that she wasn’t a Kvaskm or Shuellian, or any of the other myriad nations where smoking was common. She sighed, and sat down at her desk, turning one of the screens to a 24-hour news channel and getting to work on her reports.
LIDUN President 2024 | she/her | Puppets: Kerlile, Glanainn, Yesteria, Zongongia, Zargothrax