S01 - 10 - 2 - National Progressive Tent

Labour Party (LP)

A cold night, no moon. Owls were hooting. And fifteen silhouettes entered a closed pool hall, very close to the Directorate.

A fifty-year-old man, General Secretary of the Labour Party, Mr. Zafir Tekin, entered the billiard room and ignored the hanging hand of the conglomerate, he didn't want to shake hands with people he believed to be oppressors. Only in front of the cameras, if there were any. But fortunately this was another secret meeting of the Labour Party, the unions and the conglomerates. Even though the unions and conglomerates were under state control, it was still necessary to defend the rights of the workers and labourers and to protect their stomachs. The trade unions were under the command of their people, although they had to appear loyal to the directorate regime due to the circumstances and the ever-present state repression. In addition, the conglomerates held the upper councils of the Directorate and effectively controlled the economy and their "wallets". When this state of emergency ends, and it will definitely end one day, the economy will effectively return to a free market economy, giving total power to those who own industries and workplaces. So the rights of workers and labourers would have to be secured at that time, one way or another, Zafir believed.

Inside, the air was warm and smelled of chlorine. He had been offered to wear looser clothes and even go swimming, but he had refused. And now he was refusing to take off his coat, as were his comrades, unlike the others who were lying on the deck chairs, almost naked, and enjoying themselves. His fourteen men stood in front of these rich people for five seconds. Zafir spoke in an angry voice:

-Gentlemen, what is this?

The conglomerates stood up lazily. And the spokesman of the conglomerates said to Zafir:

-This way, Mr. Zafir.

And pointed to the table and chairs that had been brought. They all sat down. They looked at each other in silence. Then Zafir suspected:

-We are not here to waste time, workers do not have time to have holidays like your little scout group.

Then each group started shouting at each other, "you can't say that, no we can, be respectful, then be respectful to the workers, we have problems too, it's nothing compared to a worker, the economy won't work that way, well it won't work that way" and so on.

And then they were exhausted, at that point it was a routine of these two groups. Because protests were forbidden, both sides always had this energy stored up to release. The workers couldn't go on strike and the corporations couldn't pay the police to beat them up.

Zafir continued:

-Anyways, gentlemen. After this discussion on "swimsuit ethics", we will begin with the contract. Some in the Directorate are considering adding an extra hour of work, which is unacceptable. This is our red line and you must help us to get this proposal scrapped. Otherwise, there may not be any workers left in factories, on farms and in the arms industry.

Conglomerate spokesman:

-That's very brave of you. If you don't work, this country will cease to exist and we will all suffer. So go ahead, this is literally mutually assured destruction.

-Exactly. And I'm sure you don't want to give the director any more excuses to delay the process of transition to democracy and a "more" free economy. Do we agree?

The conglomerates looked at each other and some whispered.

-It's not even a question. Agreed, but on one condition: If we need a favour in the future, you will help us.

-Agreed.

United Left Party (ULP)

The General Secretary of the United Left Party, Mr Daryan Bagrashvili, adjusted his glasses. In his bunker-like office there were maps, portraits of revolutionaries, documents. Then he looked at the coat on the wall, then he opened the drawer of his desk and reached for a telephone. It was a secret phone line, set up separately from the government infrastructure. He spoke into the phone:

-Tell the password.

-One, nine, one, seven. Now tell me your password, comrade.

-One, nine, two, seven. Glory to the revolution, comrade!

-Glory to the revolution, comrade!

-Comrade, now please tell me the coordinates of your observations.

Daryan looked at his map, noted a few things. Then he thought for a moment and spoke:

-Comrade, they are planning to attack mountain X-zero-six instead of Y-seven-nine. According to my information, the positions you have given must be an attempt to attract the attention of your battalion. They will make X-zero-six look vulnerable and wait for you at Y-seven-nine. So use hill Z-four-four instead, the rest is up to you, I am not a soldier.

-Understood, comrade. Are there any new details about the forthcoming arms deal?

-Negative, we are looking for ways to smuggle weapons out of the VAF depots, but so far they are well guarded and Manguard has caught all our agents.

-Glory to the heroes of the revolution!

-Their sacrifice will never be forgotten. Now, exactly 24 hours later, I will call you. Good luck, comrade!

-You need more than me, comrade!

Daryan closed the phone. It didn't look good, but it wasn't impossible. All they needed was opportunity and a little chaos. And he was sure that this oppressive system would collapse under its own weight, and they had to be ready when the wind blew in the right direction.

The armed opposition was in a terrible situation because everything was under control. Perhaps the VAF was in a terrible state, but the partisans were in a much worse state. It is sometimes said that during the clashes between the partisans and the VAF both sides resorted to bayonet tactics. But he believed that the Labour Party was his card. As soon as the regime lets go of the heavy control, there will definitely be strikes and the capitalists will want to oppress the people. For now, everyone was equally oppressed. Daryan chuckled. The young man in his thirties was thinking about his past. He had never seen himself as a leader of the official and unofficial resistance against capitalism in the Vurk. But now it was his time to shine.

Freedom and Right Party (FRP)

Closed saloon in Kinigin, somewhere. Illuminated by torches and decorated with various religious symbols of Orthodox Christianity. You could be forgiven for thinking it was a church, but there was none of the eco-atmosphere of a typical church. The General Secretary of the FRP, Mr. Alexin Androv, was at the end of a fiery speech:

-... They are not even Vurkians! This evil Manguard is a completely sinful organisation that is already being led by a woman. Yes, people, can you imagine? A woman in charge of the state, torturing innocent people and orchestrating the destruction of the House of God! Father Nicholas, a great man known to the locals, died today in a labour camp. Where is the justice in this? Where is the fairness in this? To imprison a priest, just because he didn't refuse to help a person who asked for help, is only a sign of the great evil spirits. Vurkians beware! And don't let them brainwash you with some Managerialiast nonsense!

The room cheers and applauds. Members begin to shout slogans like "Freedom, Right, Vurk!" And suddenly Alexin, who is on stage, notices someone entering the room. Slowly people calm down and look at him. He shouts:

-Comrades! My dear General Secretary! We've been informed that a Manguard battalion is on its way here to deal with us!

Chaos broke out in the room, and some began to shout, "Damn the Manguard, damn the Nikishai, damn the Directorate," and so on. A few say "This is the time, we must start a national revolution". Some say "We are not that strong"... In the end, the majority decided to take up arms. Alexin sees that someone gives him a gun.

Alexin thought he'd be finished if he didn't find a way to stop the people. He was really good at rallying people, but sometimes he was so good that they often forgot the reality that Manguard and VAF were a thousand times stronger than them. Alexin shouted:

-Comrades!

Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at Alexin.

-Comrades! Do not start armed resistance! This is an ambush!

Saloon erupted in disbelief and started talking again. And even threw a few slogans like "We want justice, Alexin!" "We want their blood!" "It's a good day to die!"... Alexin shouted again:

-Comrades!.. Armed resistance is what they want from us! Don't you see? This is their plan, to justify their actions and get rid of us all at once!

This time the people continued to listen.

-Comrades! We must be patient and go out when the time comes. Right now it is time to fit into the laws. The Lord will give us better days, but only if we keep our patience. A rebellion is a rebellion. A rebellion against Christ, a rebellion against morality; comrades, there will be no difference between us and them if we rebel. Of course it is good to die for the Lord, but it is better to live for the Lord, to spread his words and to live a better life, to prove that better is possible. Comrades! Unless it is the breaking point, we must avoid armed rebellion.

Rational Socialist Vurkian Alliance Party (RSVAP)
^{This is "R'ational" Socialists, not the other one.}

The General Secretary of RSVAP, Mr. Timurad Zakarin, closed the notebook in which he was writing. It was one of those rare nights when he found time to continue his magnum opus on rational socialism. His office was a modern one compared to those of the other three party leaders in the NPT building. Timurad enjoyed simplicity. Simplicity of drink, simplicity of cloth, simplicity of speech and simplicity of decision. Even if he did not have to speak in such a "simple" way in order to rally the people, he often interpreted this as a field of skill. So the "popular" Timurad and he were radically different.

He sat back and thought about what he had written a few seconds before: There are no ideals in this world, but there is the goal of building an ideal. Socialism will never achieve its goals, because there will always be sects, there will always be human greed, there will always be the inequality of every human being. But that doesn't mean we can't still strive for greater goods. But you have to accept that there may be a cost. Time, money, tears and, if necessary, blood. Therefore, each nation must navigate in all criteria to achieve perfect socialism. If a completed struggle between groups would end the struggle, then this struggle must be completed accordingly, instead of being the third side of the struggle and making things worse. And with rationality, of course: Getting the most out of it.

We have to be rational, Timurad thought. Eventually, we will regain our old lands and even advance further. But what will happen then? How will these new people, these non-Vurkians, react? With rebellion, treason and sabotage. This will have to be dealt with one way or another...

He stood and walked to the window. He watched the street lit by street lamps. He watched the walking guards. And he guessed they were heading for the Alexin meeting. He chuckled:

-Crazy old man!

Then he opened the window and listened... "Caw, caw!"

-Ashen!

A crow flew to the man's arm, then climbed onto his shoulder.

-Good boy!..

Then he left with the crow, opening a drawer on the other table and taking out some dried worms in a box. Ashen jumped to the table and began to eat them. Meanwhile, Timurad stroked the crow's head. Ashen was a crow he had found on the ground some years ago. It seemed that he had fallen from the nest and the mother crow was nowhere to be seen. Timurad took care of Ashen, raised him and eventually let him go. But Ashen didn't leave Timurad, he kept his distance and visited him regularly. Timurad, his eyes shining, murmured:

-Only the strongest can live in this world, my boy... Don't forget.

His words were interrupted by the ringing of the telephone. He answered the phone.

-This is the General Secretary of RSVAP, Timurad Zakarin. Who is this?

A voice with a German accent spoke:

-Greetings, Mr Zakarin. It's me, the Klaus! Always professional! You know, they always said I was an interesting Northerner. Because I sometimes talk like a Baverian or even an Austrian. But you, my friend, you are a perfect Northerner, that straightness... I can't tell you how much similarity I find between you and my people.

-I'm glad to hear that, Mr Klaus.

-I only wish Grandpa could meet you. I can't tell you how much you are alike!

-Why are we talking about the past, Mr Klaus?

-That's the spirit! Here's what we'll do; I'll launder the money for you, outside the Vurkian economy, then we'll bring the clean money into the Vurk and spend some of it on weapons for the toast!

-It looks like you're sure this line won't be listened.

-Oh, Granddad taught me a few tricks.

-Like bribery, Mr Klaus?

The voice on the phone laughed.

-I told you! You really are like him, are you really sure not to take a DNA test?

-No, I will not give my DNA for testing. I don't think we are alike, Mr Klaus... with your grandfather.

-You can't change what I see... Mr Timurad.

-I don't care what you see, Mr Klaus, except that you're good at your job.

-Whoo! Strong and independent man! It sounds like we're going to play professionalism, let's play it, Mr Timurad. Any deal will be done accordingly. If you need me, you know the number, call me!

The phone rang. Timurad was furious. How could he dare to close the phone in his face? But a few seconds later he calmed down and continued to stroke Ashen.

By Tutku15 -