Reincarnated as Nikolai II

Chapter 19 Colorless King (6)

Voting rights criteria: male, 25 years or older, must have paid taxes and have no criminal record.

Also, voting is only possible within the area where one's personal information is registered (mainly where occupation is registered).

Along with these conditions, the Amur Governor-General's Office also received the Emperor's order to send representatives to the Duma.

"Ah, Your Excellency Governor. What should we do?"

"Roman, how many tax-paying adult males do you think there are in the entire Amur region?"

Though they sometimes collect money in rural villages for village repairs or land reclamation, that's not collected by the state.

In other words, most current voters in the Far East are soldiers.

"There are nomads who come seeking iron and coal under the pretext of tribute... but I doubt they know what voting is."

"Whatever it is, it's an imperial order, so we must do it."

"But who do we nominate?"

"..."

Reportedly, this State Duma allocated seats even to regions still being integrated or far places like the Far East to maximize reflection of all imperial subjects' opinions.

Only one seat was allocated to this Far East region.

Governor Sergei fell into brief contemplation.

'A figure to represent Amur's people... no, soldiers. Isn't that just telling us to send one soldier?'Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Given the region, most are career soldiers, but still, an active soldier in the Duma doesn't seem right.

"We need to send someone who can represent us..."

Though they don't expect gifts from that European land just for sending someone, they can't just send anyone either.

'When we're short even one person, we can't suddenly pull someone with a position away.'

Though the Governor-General's Office overflows with money, land, and work, people are always lacking.

"Then should we ask Professor Bunge for one official?"

"If you can go tell him that and bring back someone, do it. But I can't."

"Ugh, then I give up."

The Far East's new force led by Professor Bunge - self-described 'State-Led Free Market Economic Development System-ists' - were so fierce that even Sergei and Roman had thrown up their hands in surrender.

"Better to have no seat in the State Duma than have one of them represent us."

"I agree. I'm scared all of Trans-Siberia might be branded as heretics."

Then who on earth should they choose?

Once they select a candidate, they just need to gather everyone at the parade ground, give them papers, and have them put them in the ballot box.

Someone who isn't doing crucial work now but has some education, understands the Far East's special circumstances, and should have some sense.

"Hmm, there isn't anyone."

"No, there isn't."

Just thinking briefly won't make the perfect person appear.

When they're already using every somewhat educated person among the soldiers, how could such a person appear overnight?

"So we have no choice but to choose from those State-Led Free Market Economic System- anyway, those people?"

"Ah, that really doesn't seem right."

Unable to find an answer even in discussions with Roman, Governor Sergei finally decided to post public notices informing about the situation after much consideration.

He thought there might be some decent people among those who retired and settled or recently immigrated.

And a few days later...

Thump. Thump.

"Alright, let's put it down here!"

"Yes sir!"

In front of the Amur Governor-General's building.

"What is this?"

"Officer sir, this is the tax from our settlement's five hundred and thirty people. Should be over four seok of rice."

"Aren't you settlers? Why suddenly pay taxes you haven't been paying?"

"We heard this way we could directly elect high officials from the government. Could even run for office ourselves. We've received hundreds of gyeol of land just for our settlement, so we've been anxious about not paying a single coin."

"But-"

The soldier on guard duty was lost for words at the straw sacks piling higher than his height.

==

"Your Majesty, you said you called us for greetings! How could you dump the empire's biggest problem on the Duma!"

"Then, what did you want?"

"The land issue shouldn't be touched now. Why do you think everyone's been hushing it up for decades? Wasn't it to delay the problem's explosion as long as possible since it's difficult to solve immediately!"

"No. Minister, speak straight. Didn't you think that since it's not exploding now, it won't explode later either?"

Remarkably, this Finance Minister position has always had clear-headed people carrying out reforms through generations.

Though unlike the New Village Movement where everyone from top to bottom worked together, it was just Finance Ministers darting here and there stitching up an empire trying to tear apart, but anyway, there were always people with vision.

'Just look at Professor Bunge. He saw farmers as the empire's core. Even workers' foundation ultimately came from farmland. Since farmers' children came to cities to become workers.'

Those at the center of reform until the empire's collapse were all outstanding.

Land reform is the problem that even they couldn't solve for 70 years.

"Witte, let's acknowledge it now. Land reform can't be solved now. No? It won't be easy even after 10 years."

"Then all the more reason you shouldn't have brought this issue to the surface. This could shake the very foundation of Your Majesty's power!"

Forgetting he was before the Tsar, Minister Witte looked at me with desperate eyes, hoping I would face reality.

Is he truly worried about me or afraid his reforms will stop if I weaken?

Finally, to him looking overly serious, I had to bring up the old story once again.

"When I was in the military, I once experimented with a miniature version of the current situation. Though the context was different, it was a rookie writing vaguely wondering if land reform could be completed through the Far East's empty land."

The content was a very far-fetched story about compensated distribution of the empire's empty land or compensated confiscation of well-cultivated existing land using tax funds.

'How could that ever work. People won't go even if paid to.'

"Even for a short writing by just a crown prince, not Tsar, the response was explosive. Even conscripted soldiers came to ask if it was really true."

"...The weight of your words is different now than then. Giving false hope to ignorant masses is very dangerous."

"Just keep listening first."

Actually, the core of that contributed article wasn't whether land reform was possible through that vast Siberian land or not.

Who would react, and how.

That's what I wanted to see.

This issue would have to be faced during my reign anyway.

From vested interests with land to workers, farmers, intellectuals, bureaucrats, soldiers - I wanted to see as many reactions as possible.

"I thought at least one force supporting my opinion would emerge, but not at all. Rather, they started fighting among themselves. Those illogically refuting my article, those agreeing but modifying it slightly more favorably for themselves, those rambling about their family's circumstances hoping to belong to groups gaining benefits. So diverse it was hard to even classify."

It was utter chaos. Right after I created that chaos, father buried me deeper in the military.

"That's when I realized. Ah, land reform must never be solved through dialogue. This issue must be pushed through at once with overwhelming power."

Then those satisfied with reform become my allies, while those dissatisfied must be coaxed and soothed until pressed down at the right time.

Only then can reform succeed and progress be made.

"I created the State Duma. Yes, it's like the newspaper where I published my article."

Meanwhile, our Duma members who have neither overwhelming power nor can solve things through dialogue. Can they produce reform plans meeting my conditions with a majority?

"I'll make sure imperial subjects can know all meetings and contents from the Duma through newspapers."

They'll split and fight, unite and divide, eat away at each other's ideologies. Some will fall exhausted and sick of politics, while others will eagerly rush in.

Good. Very good. That's why I threw them the bait of land reform.

As my words ended, Witte's eyes, trembling now for different reasons than despair before, were fixed precisely on me.

His graying hair and wrinkled skin prove he's seen and experienced more years than me.

Nevertheless, Witte wasn't seeing me as just young Tsar Nikolai anymore.

"Your Majesty... why are you doing this?"

To him, I could only smile gently.

Approaching him looking somehow more shrunk than when angry, I slowly patted him.

"You just need to do well what I tell you to do. Despite appearances, I'm quite rooting for you."

This much is sincere.

It's incredibly admirable how he even controlled his subordinate officials to prevent them from joining any party.

This is my first teaching.

And our Russian Empire...

Still has a long way to go on the path of learning.