05-28-2020, 10:29 AM
Reform Too Radical
Arnott Residence, Grapevale, Kerlile
28th May 2020 – morning
President Rebecca Arnott sat tapping her finger against the empty mug that had once contained tea. She was lost in thought, having read the report that had come back from Laeral about Councillor Georgiou’s dealings on the Xiomeran situation. What struck her as of primary importance was the belief of the Eirians that the Council was unpredictable, and thus difficult and undesirable to work with.
“Perhaps it is time we introduced a different way of working,” she eventually said aloud to her daughter, Councillor Rosemary. “They have a point; the Council can change laws on a whim, it makes for uneasiness abroad.”
“But the Council all agree on Xiomera,” Rosemary, who was lying on her back holding a smartphone above her head as she messaged someone, argued.
“That is true, but if they changed their mind overnight, they would have no trouble changing our policy too. It is what can happen that is the problem, I feel, not what is likely to happen.”
“If you try and put restrictions on the Council,” Rosemary flipped over to stare at her mother, “then they’ll push back. Pierre especially will push back.”
“Naturally,” agreed the President, “but this is another lesson on politics for you: often, you can’t keep everyone happy, but instead have to choose who to keep happy. At the moment, our goal is to improve our standing in the eyes of the international community. Which seems impossible when they view us as a corrupt oligarchy whose ruling Council treats the lives of our people like playthings.”
“Isn’t that kind of exactly what the Council is like?”
“Yes, which is why we need to change that. Inventing stories and covering things up only works to a certain extent. The path of dishonesty becomes harder with every challenge to the story. The alternative is to make what we want to say the truth. We have to change the Council’s way of working; impose some kinds of restrictions.”
“Mum, Councillor Pierre will have us assassinated. And I don’t particularly want to die.”
“Rosemary, we have already done a lot of things Councillor Pierre disapproved of, and she hasn’t tried to have us killed yet. Have a little faith; she’s far more afraid of the patriarchal countries than you give her credit for. She’ll acquiesce because she doesn’t want to risk one of their imperialistic so-called democracy-spreading invasions coming here.”
“I still think…”
“Please trust me. And I would have thought you’d welcome a change to the law?” Rebecca raised her eyebrows. “Last I heard, you hated being a Councillor and wanted to return to your studies uninterrupted.”
“Wait, you’re not planning on changing who becomes a Councillor!?” Rosemary jumped up, alarmed. If she thought a change to the amount of power Pierre had would make her send assassins; a change in her position would certainly do so.
“That is far too radical, even for me,” chuckled her mother. “Baby steps first.”
“I have homework for university,” Rosemary said, then shot out of the room as quickly as she could, taking the stairs two at a time until she was in her room, and then closing the door quickly behind her, only to sink to the ground leaning against it, her eyes wide with fear.
Her mother couldn’t really mean to change Kerlile’s entire system of succession, could she? It would cause a wave of controversy across the entire country, perhaps even leading to another civil war like in the 90s. Terrible, terrible things happened during that civil war – she couldn’t bear living through something like that.
No, such a radical change couldn’t be allowed to happen in her lifetime. She took out her phone, and began typing a message.
Arnott Residence, Grapevale, Kerlile
28th May 2020 – morning
President Rebecca Arnott sat tapping her finger against the empty mug that had once contained tea. She was lost in thought, having read the report that had come back from Laeral about Councillor Georgiou’s dealings on the Xiomeran situation. What struck her as of primary importance was the belief of the Eirians that the Council was unpredictable, and thus difficult and undesirable to work with.
“Perhaps it is time we introduced a different way of working,” she eventually said aloud to her daughter, Councillor Rosemary. “They have a point; the Council can change laws on a whim, it makes for uneasiness abroad.”
“But the Council all agree on Xiomera,” Rosemary, who was lying on her back holding a smartphone above her head as she messaged someone, argued.
“That is true, but if they changed their mind overnight, they would have no trouble changing our policy too. It is what can happen that is the problem, I feel, not what is likely to happen.”
“If you try and put restrictions on the Council,” Rosemary flipped over to stare at her mother, “then they’ll push back. Pierre especially will push back.”
“Naturally,” agreed the President, “but this is another lesson on politics for you: often, you can’t keep everyone happy, but instead have to choose who to keep happy. At the moment, our goal is to improve our standing in the eyes of the international community. Which seems impossible when they view us as a corrupt oligarchy whose ruling Council treats the lives of our people like playthings.”
“Isn’t that kind of exactly what the Council is like?”
“Yes, which is why we need to change that. Inventing stories and covering things up only works to a certain extent. The path of dishonesty becomes harder with every challenge to the story. The alternative is to make what we want to say the truth. We have to change the Council’s way of working; impose some kinds of restrictions.”
“Mum, Councillor Pierre will have us assassinated. And I don’t particularly want to die.”
“Rosemary, we have already done a lot of things Councillor Pierre disapproved of, and she hasn’t tried to have us killed yet. Have a little faith; she’s far more afraid of the patriarchal countries than you give her credit for. She’ll acquiesce because she doesn’t want to risk one of their imperialistic so-called democracy-spreading invasions coming here.”
“I still think…”
“Please trust me. And I would have thought you’d welcome a change to the law?” Rebecca raised her eyebrows. “Last I heard, you hated being a Councillor and wanted to return to your studies uninterrupted.”
“Wait, you’re not planning on changing who becomes a Councillor!?” Rosemary jumped up, alarmed. If she thought a change to the amount of power Pierre had would make her send assassins; a change in her position would certainly do so.
“That is far too radical, even for me,” chuckled her mother. “Baby steps first.”
“I have homework for university,” Rosemary said, then shot out of the room as quickly as she could, taking the stairs two at a time until she was in her room, and then closing the door quickly behind her, only to sink to the ground leaning against it, her eyes wide with fear.
Her mother couldn’t really mean to change Kerlile’s entire system of succession, could she? It would cause a wave of controversy across the entire country, perhaps even leading to another civil war like in the 90s. Terrible, terrible things happened during that civil war – she couldn’t bear living through something like that.
No, such a radical change couldn’t be allowed to happen in her lifetime. She took out her phone, and began typing a message.
LIDUN President 2024 | she/her | Puppets: Kerlile, Glanainn, Yesteria, Zongongia, Zargothrax