Section Forty: The Kangmingsen Declaration, Part One

Under the gaze of the entire crowd, Grant finally appeared on the raised platform in the square. The moment he showed himself, the place erupted. People shouted his many names in a jumble: children from the countryside called him Uncle Grant, older farmers called out his name or Brother Grant, while the revolutionaries charged with keeping order raised their left arms three times and cried, “Leader!” The remnants of the old-order companies, newly risen in rebellion and still retaining their former organization, did not know what to call him. They simply followed the older revolutionaries and waved their fists in the air, some crying uncle, some brother, some leader.

Grant lifted his right hand beneath the countless eyes fixed upon him. In his left hand he held a thin booklet. Only when the crowd saw his movement did the uproar gradually fall silent.

“Greetings, everyone. I am Grant. I now speak on behalf of the Commineson Revolutionary Army to declare that you are free. No one will ever enslave you again.”

A thunder of cheers rose from below. Grant motioned for quiet.

“We have won our first victory. But I want to tell you that the great undertaking has only just begun. The struggle between the bourgeoisie and Commineson begins now. This is a struggle between oppressors and the oppressed, a struggle between the aristocratic masters and us. My friends, my brothers, my sisters, the Revolutionary Corps fights for our interests. I need your help. Let us all join hands. Just as we did yesterday with Hendley, tomorrow we will overturn every privileged class and every exploiter that tries to stand above us.”

“Lord Grant, do you mean the government of Valencia?” one man below still shouted over the crowd. Many continued cheering at Grant’s words, but a few had stopped applauding. These people were different from the peasants who had come from the countryside. They had received a civic education. They knew the difference between Hendley and Wallenheit. To them, rulers like Hendley deserved to be overthrown, but whether they should now bind themselves to the war chariot of the Revolutionary Corps and oppose Randia’s present government to the bitter end was another matter.

“Yes. Today Gaul City is free, liberated. But in the near future the situation will grow even grimmer. The bourgeois government, the empires of foreign nations, the churches, and even the Pope himself will unite to strangle us and stamp out the flame just kindled in Commineson.” Grant raised his fist and asked, “But will we be afraid?”

“No!” came the ringing answer from the revolutionaries who had followed him for years. Those who revered Grant and felt close to the Commineson Revolutionary Corps could not help joining in. Only the men who had spoken just then opened their mouths but did not cry out with them.

“But, respected Grant, I think there is truly no need to go that far.” It was the same man again. Puzzled, he said, “Have you perhaps misunderstood something? I do not think the situation has become nearly so dire. Mister Wallenheit and the government in Valencia have always been known for their freedom and democracy. For so many years they have held to the same principles, and that is how Randia has reached its present achievements. Gaul City is only a special case, an isolated exception. We fully support the Revolutionary Corps, but shouldn’t you at least consider negotiating with the government of Randia?”

“Sir, please listen to me. I think even now there are people in the square who share your doubts about why Commineson insists on such utter enmity toward these forces. But if we look back at history, it has always been the history of class struggle. What is class struggle? It is the conflict between the free and the enslaved, the noble and the commoner, the lord and the serf, the guild master and the journeyman, Hendley of Gaul City and you. Oppressors and oppressed have always stood opposed to one another, sometimes openly, sometimes in secret. Such struggle has never ceased.”

“Lord Grant, perhaps what you say has merit. But I believe the present government of Randia is not quite the same as those in the northern countries. It has granted the common people many rights, such as the right to vote and the right to stand for election, and it has also declared respect for private property. This government itself was won through revolution, just as yesterday you led the Revolutionary Corps in overthrowing Hendley. Because of such an example, we do not feel hostile toward your actions; in fact, we support you. But as everyone knows, Gaul City has long been ruled by the former noble houses, and the government of Wallenheit has had to rely on them. Yet I studied in Valencia, and I know the people there do not in fact like Hendley at all. Although you have driven away the troops stationed here, I still believe you should accept talks. Please, think about it. We do not want war.”

The crowd was made hesitant by their words and waited for Grant to answer. He replied, “Let me answer you. The bourgeois government of Randia is indeed progressive compared with those northern states. I would even predict that it will bring down the old imperial powers. But a new imperialism will be born from within it. For there is no essential difference between it and the states that came before. It merely replaces the old ruling class and old oppression with new ones.”

“May I object to your words?” another, younger man suddenly called out from among them. Grant answered loudly, “I never advocate punishing people for speech. The purpose of this gathering today is precisely to let everyone cast off their doubts while giving clear answers to your questions.”

The newcomer gathered his courage. “I also studied in Valencia, though regrettably I did not finish. Why do I not feel the kind of oppression you speak of? Valencia and Gaul are completely different. That is what I felt when I returned to my hometown. Here, before Hendley was overthrown, rule was utterly tyrannical. But in Valencia, people can speak freely, even march in the streets and curse the government. Of course, forgive me, I mean no offense. You are now listening to our honest thoughts. You have done no worse than Mister Wallenheit, and you are just as much a person I respect. But precisely for that reason, I am even more puzzled. Why are you unwilling to negotiate?”

The young man’s voice was full of distress. Clearly, because he had lived in Valencia, he respected the government led by Wallenheit; yet Grant had liberated his homeland, and he likewise revered the leader of Commineson. When the two were bound to come into conflict, he found himself at a loss, yet still had to choose.

“Because the bourgeoisie cannot abolish class antagonism. They only simplify it, and in doing so make it more intense than before. Mister Wallenheit and his government represent the interests of the bourgeoisie, the interests of the exploiters. Commineson and I, along with the vast majority of you here, are proletarians. Unless you are willing to accept oppression and exploitation of your own free will, the only path left is to rise and resist.”

“You keep saying that all of us are exploited and oppressed. But what we saw in Valencia was a very different picture. The people there have confidence. Under Mister Wallenheit’s leadership, the economy is prosperous, maritime trade is driving all of Randia forward at an unprecedented pace, and industry, magical research, and the opening of new sea routes are all constantly expanding. Our markets are growing by the day, and commerce, navigation, and overland transport have all developed enormously. One day now is more advanced than ten days in the past. The workers all enjoy freedom; they may choose to work or resign, and neither the law nor the government will allow otherwise.”

“Then have you seen the laborers who toil day and night in the workshops? Have you seen the bodies that sank beneath the sea while new routes were being opened? Have you seen the bones beneath the post roads, workers who died just as surely while building them? This system leaves nothing between people except naked relations of money. Hendley ruled through violence and privilege; the bourgeoisie rules through capital and wealth. The foundation of their existence is the ceaseless growth of wealth, and that growth is built upon your exploitation. Yes, they have created vast amounts of wealth. Driven by their thirst for riches, and in order to intensify their plunder of you, they have spared no effort in driving the world forward. But at the same time they strip away the overwhelming majority of the fruits of your labor. The freedom they give you is nothing more than the choice between being exploited by the first factory or exploited by the second. It is as if a wolf stands before you and a tiger comes up behind you: would you rather be eaten by the wolf or by the tiger? That is freedom. And then the wolf and the tiger sit down before devouring you to discuss how they will eat you. That is democracy.”