The Reluctant Politician (2)

"What will you do? We must give an answer to the Duma first. If you'll oppose, you must do it now."

"Sigh, first call Witte."

"Saying to call the Finance Minister means..."

"I know nothing, but Finance Minister Witte and officials oppose in outrage, accordingly the Tsar requests reconsideration once more. The next election starts soon anyway, this much should do."

"Friction between officials and Duma could intensify."

"Additionally tell Witte Minister to go meet him."

"Who do you mean?"

"Who else, Beren Volkov."

Officially to hear the original planner's views and detailed plans, actually to send Witte to check if Beren is that soldier Beren I know.

"Making Witte Minister who'll take hits instead of Your Majesty meet the perpetrator directly, I perfectly understand Your Majesty's orders."

"Hmm?"

"I shall withdraw now."

Though slightly strange, Count Dashkov left like that, and I fell back into contemplation at Beren's unexpected appearance.

'Did this bastard exist in original history Russia?'

Even I who prided myself on knowing Russia-specific history had to review my memories again at Beren's sudden rise in the Duma.

However much I try to recall, the name Beren Volkov never appeared in history books even once.

"To have such agitation ability but no records..."

Then he must have been buried in the military indeed.

It was a moment newly confirming just the positive function of the military.

==

"...Fucked."

That day after giving a boastful speech, enjoying ecstasy with eyes closed.

Beren's smile didn't last long.

"Now then, let's vote!"

"Nothing to see! Though points needing supplementation are visible, I agree with the fundamental content!"

"Unconditional approval!"

"Ten points... ten points!"

"Uh, what?"

Because he really didn't expect it to go to voting right there.

Still, until then he maintained composure thinking 'No way'.

102 votes for, 77 against, rest abstaining.

Until it really passed majority.

"Today we've taken a monumental step toward land reform!"

"Beren! Beren! Beren!"

"Ah, no wait-"

They pass it by railroading an immediate vote like this?

Shouldn't we all split four-five ways and fight again about expert opinions and financial issues?

'Why? Why on earth is this passing!'

When it actually passed, his hands trembled involuntarily and he couldn't smile.

Though confirming his influence was good, from now he'd have to take responsibility too.

In truth, the common feeling that something must pass before next election.

And psychology of 'this is better at least' passing a proposal neither radical nor particularly harmful or coercive, but Beren never considered such things in the first place.

He just thought if he made this much name, Governor Sergei couldn't help but give him a spot at the port.

Labor and human rights? He's the most anti-labor and human rights oppressing military background himself.

Capital? Though he befriended wealthy bourgeoisie, this too was just wondering if anyone might invest in the Far East, no greater greed.

Liberalism based on rule of law, checks and balances, and separation of powers?

What's that you bastards. Will that bring even one more ship to Vladivostok port?

The only ideology-like thing Beren knows is the State-Led Free Market Economic Development System-ism he directly observed rubbing shoulders with in the Far East.

Actually he doesn't know well even that state-led whatever ideology. He just thought "oh I see" since smart people like Chairman Bunge were pushing it.

Still pretending to have something, he just changed one character from Professor Bunge's "State-Led Urban Development Project" to "State-Led Land Development Project".

"Haha! Today His Majesty officially ordered business feasibility review! How can we just pass this joyous day? Representative Volkov, let's celebrate together!"

"Hoho, going that way would just end up at taverns. Instead, I've rented a hotel banquet hall, let's go there."

"No! Teacher! Thousands of St. Petersburg workers will gather this evening! Please give them a hopeful speech!"

"Ah..."

Only then did Volkov feel this wouldn't end at Governor Sergei's level.

'C-Crown Prince!'

No, now His Majesty the Tsar. This proposal would reach his desk.

And that means.

"Representative Volkov, do you have a moment?"

"...Uh, could you be-"

"Right. I'm Finance Minister Sergei Witte."

Someone sent by the Tsar would come looking for him.

"I sincerely want to hear our expert's views, rushed here in one breath. Please, I hope you'll spare some time."

Witte's words breaking off suggested he was about to cut off Volkov's limbs right now.

"Ah..."

"Let's go somewhere and have a proper talk."

Witte looked desperate to hear Beren's views.

Or just wanted to kill him.

The private dining room at the Hotel Europa offered the privacy Witte required for this unusual meeting. Beren Volkov sat across from him, still wearing the stunned expression of a man who had accidentally started an avalanche and now found himself tumbling down the mountainside.

"Exceptional wine," Witte commented, savoring a sip of the Bordeaux. "The hotel reserves it for special occasions."

"Thank you, Minister," Volkov replied, his military training evident in his rigid posture. "Though I confess I'm surprised by your interest in my proposal."

"Are you?" Witte studied the man carefully. "A comprehensive national land reclamation program, utilizing the Peasant Land Bank as its financial instrument, presented by an independent representative from the Far East? How could I not be interested?"

Volkov shifted uncomfortably. "I simply observed what worked in my region and thought it might benefit the empire more broadly."

"I see. And what exactly has 'worked' in the Far East regarding land distribution?" Witte's tone remained pleasant, but his eyes were sharp. "You mentioned farmers there don't pay taxes. An interesting arrangement."

Volkov paled slightly. "A temporary measure to encourage settlement. Nothing radical."

"Of course." Witte refilled their glasses. "Tell me, Representative Volkov, what is your background? Your military service record is impressive, but it reveals little about your expertise in agrarian economics."

The direct question seemed to catch Volkov off guard. "I... have practical experience, Minister. I've seen the challenges farmers face firsthand."

"Indeed. And your relationship with Professor Bunge? I couldn't help noticing similarities between his urban development theories and your land reform proposal."

At the mention of Bunge, Volkov's expression brightened slightly. "A brilliant man. His approach to state-led development has transformed parts of the Far East."

"So I've heard." Witte leaned forward. "Representative Volkov, let me be direct. Your proposal has passed the Duma with surprising speed. His Majesty has asked me to evaluate its practical implications before considering his response."

Volkov nodded, attempting to project confidence. "I'm happy to provide any details you require."

"Excellent. Let's start with the financial projections. How much capital would the Peasant Land Bank require to implement your program on a national scale?"

The question hung in the air as Volkov visibly struggled to produce a figure. Witte waited patiently, observing the man's discomfort with clinical interest.

"The... exact figure would depend on implementation pace," Volkov finally managed. "We should start with a limited pilot program."

"A reasonable approach," Witte conceded. "And the administrative structure? How many officials would be required to manage the purchase, subdivision, and redistribution of lands?"

Again, Volkov faltered. "That would... need to be determined through consultation with experts."

"Experts like yourself?" Witte asked mildly.

The conversation continued in this vein for nearly an hour, with Witte methodically exposing the gaping holes in Volkov's proposal without ever becoming confrontational. By the time dessert arrived, the representative from the Far East was sweating visibly.

"Representative Volkov," Witte said finally, "I think I understand your position more clearly now."

"You do?" Volkov looked simultaneously relieved and terrified.

"You're not an economist or an agrarian expert. You're a soldier who wants to see Russia prosper." Witte's tone softened slightly. "You stumbled into a political moment and spoke from conviction rather than calculation."

Volkov's shoulders slumped with something like resignation. "Minister, I never expected the proposal to pass. I just wanted to make a name for myself to secure a business opportunity in Vladivostok."

Witte raised an eyebrow. "And now you find yourself the champion of land reform for the entire empire."

"It's... not what I intended."

"Few things in politics ever are," Witte observed. "But intentions matter less than results, Representative Volkov. And the result of your speech is a Duma-approved land reform program that cannot possibly function as proposed."

Volkov paled. "What will His Majesty do?"

"That's not for me to say," Witte replied carefully. "But I believe he values honesty above all else. If you were to acknowledge the proposal's limitations and request time to develop a more substantive approach..."

"Publicly admit I didn't know what I was talking about?" Volkov looked horrified.

"Not at all," Witte corrected. "Merely demonstrate the thoughtfulness expected of someone tasked with reshaping imperial policy. Suggest a committee of experts to refine the concept. Express your commitment to responsible implementation."

Volkov considered this, relief slowly spreading across his features. "That... might work."

"It might indeed." Witte signaled for the bill. "His Majesty is not unreasonable, Representative Volkov. He understands that good governance requires both bold vision and careful planning."

As they prepared to leave, Witte added casually, "By the way, this port business in Vladivostok that you mentioned—perhaps you could tell me more about it?"

Later that evening, I received Witte in my study, eager to hear his assessment of Beren Volkov.

"Well?" I asked as he settled into the chair across from me.

"He's precisely what he appears to be, Your Majesty," Witte reported. "A military man with business aspirations who accidentally became a political sensation."

"Not a revolutionary in disguise? Not an agent of some foreign power?"

"Nothing so dramatic," Witte assured me. "He borrowed ideas from Professor Bunge, presented them without understanding their implications, and was as shocked as anyone when the Duma approved them."

I couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity. "So the great land reform that has the newspapers buzzing was conceived by a soldier seeking port rental permissions?"

"Essentially, yes." Witte smiled slightly. "Though in fairness, many great political movements have begun from similarly modest origins."

"And his loyalty? His ambitions?"

"His primary loyalty appears to be to his own advancement," Witte assessed. "But he genuinely believes in the Far East's potential. His business interests center around expanding port facilities in Vladivostok to attract more international shipping."

I nodded thoughtfully. "Not entirely misaligned with our own objectives for the region."

"Indeed not, Your Majesty." Witte paused. "He may be useful, in his way. He has a natural talent for connecting with common people that most of our officials lack."

"A talent that could be directed," I mused. "What did you tell him regarding his proposal?"

"I suggested he moderate his position—acknowledge the need for further development of the concept, propose a committee of experts, demonstrate responsible leadership."

"And will he do so?"

"I believe he will. He seemed quite relieved at the prospect of escaping the consequences of his unexpected success."

I rose and moved to the window, considering the implications. Beren Volkov—a nobody who had suddenly become somebody, a man whose ambitions had accidentally aligned with larger political currents. Such figures could be dangerous, but they could also be invaluable if properly managed.

"Have Governor-General Sergei approve his port business," I decided. "But attach conditions that keep him dependent on official favor. Meanwhile, let's see how he handles this land reform situation. If he demonstrates political acumen, there may be additional opportunities for him."

"And if he doesn't?" Witte asked.

"Then he'll fade back into obscurity, having served his purpose in our little theater of reform." I turned back to face my Finance Minister. "The Duma was never meant to succeed, Sergei Yulyevich. It was meant to demonstrate why our current system cannot be reformed from within."

Witte nodded slowly, understanding. "And Volkov's accidental proposal has only accelerated that demonstration."

"Precisely." I smiled thinly. "If even the simplest, most broadly appealing land reform cannot be implemented effectively, what hope is there for addressing Russia's more complex challenges?"

As Witte departed, I returned to my contemplation of the unexpected actor who had emerged on my political stage. Beren Volkov might be a minor character in the larger drama I was orchestrating, but he had proven that even the most carefully designed systems could produce surprises.

The question remained whether such surprises would enhance or complicate my ultimate objectives for Russia's transformation. Only time would tell—and time was the one resource I still had in abundance.