novelSusiti Chapter 174 The Bill to Stab Parliament
Chapter 174 The Bill to Stab Parliament
Constantine wrote the words "Draft National Land Purchase and Distribution Act" on the blank sheet of paper, the nib of his pen leaving a deep mark. Without looking up, he calmly said to Sophia, "This play needs a perfect ending."
Sofia gazed at her husband's profile, his young face bearing a shrewdness and decisiveness far beyond his years. She said nothing more, simply leaving the study quietly, closing the door behind her, shutting out all the noise and glory.
When Constantine's carriage returned to Athens from the port of Piraeus, the whole city was in a frenzy for him.
The road from the port to the palace was packed with enthusiastic citizens. People waved newspapers with pictures of the Crown Prince and bread, and threw flowers and olive branches at the Crown Prince's carriage.
"Constantine! Our father!"
"Greece's savior!"
The cheers were like a tsunami, engulfing the streets of Athens. This was a spectacle Athens had never witnessed since Greece's independence.
However, Constantine did not appear at any of the celebrations held in his honor. His carriage did not stop for a moment, weaving through the cheering crowds and heading straight for the Parliament building.
When Constantine, dressed in royal military attire and draped with a sash, stepped once again into the magnificent parliament hall, surrounded by guards, all the noise and arguments came to an abrupt halt.
The councilors rose from their seats, their expressions complex as they looked at the prince who had returned with overwhelming public support. Those councilors who had once clamored to suppress the farmers now hung their heads, avoiding his gaze.
Instead of going to the royal gallery, Constantine went directly to the speaker's seat.
He didn't say a word, but simply placed a document gently in front of the speaker.
On the cover of the document, a line of black text, still wet with ink, resembled a drawn sword.
National Land Redemption and Distribution Act.
This was his final declaration of war against the entire old oligarchic group.
Without needing words, the very existence of this bill is the loudest declaration of war.
The parliament hall was deathly silent.
The following day, the core content of the bill was announced to the nation in the form of a royal proclamation.
In Athens, the fervor that had just subsided was reignited.
The bill was designed with the exquisite skill of a work of art, yet as cold as a scalpel.
At its core, the state will issue a 30-year "land bond".
The government will use these bonds to forcibly "repurchase" all land owned by major landowners that exceeds the legal limit (a carefully calculated number that guarantees their luxurious lifestyle but prevents them from controlling the local area).
The buyout price is even slightly higher than the current market price.
This gave the landlords a "decent" option that they could not morally refuse.
However, what they received was not clattering gold coins, but sheets of paper—bonds promising to be redeemed in installments by the national treasury over the next thirty years.
This means that their wealth was forcibly transformed from land, the most stable asset, into financial certificates deeply tied to the fate of the nation.
In a powerful Greece, this piece of paper would be worth a fortune.
In a declining Greece, this piece of paper is worthless.
On the other hand, the bill ignited a flame of hope for all the people at the bottom of society.
All the redeemed lands will be taken over by the National Bank.
Any landless or land-poor farmer in Greece can apply to the National Bank for a 30-year, ultra-low-interest loan to purchase these lands.
The loan interest rates are so low they are almost negligible. The land purchase prices are far below market value.
This is tantamount to the state using its entire credit to guarantee the entire peasant class, enabling them to own their own land and truly stand up through their own labor.
The news sent shockwaves through all of Greece.
The farmers ran around on the field ridges spreading the news, weeping with joy.
The workers in the factory were having a lively discussion and cheering for the Crown Prince's vision.
Citizens gathered at every newsstand, vying to buy newspapers containing the full text of the bill, studying word for word this new policy that would determine the future of the country.
Hope, like wildfire, spread to every corner of Greece.
In the most luxurious manors and clubs in Athens, however, the atmosphere was as oppressive as a tomb.
The oligarchic group, led by the deputy speaker of parliament and a large landowner from Thessaly named Deragases, fell into an unprecedented silence after the bill was announced.
They cannot object.
Constantine wielded the weapon of morality to its fullest extent. Under the spotlight of the photograph "The Crown Prince and Bread," any public opposition to land reform was seen as an act against the people and would be torn to shreds by the overwhelming public opinion.
The compensation offered by the bill even exceeded their expectations, leaving them unable to even cry out that their "property had been plundered."
In a heavily guarded private reception room, De La Garcez, a man who was like a local tyrant in Thessaly, looked grimly at the landowners and councilors sitting around him.
"We can't object," he said, tapping the table in a hoarse voice. "At least, we can't object openly."
A young legislator said anxiously, "What can we do? Are we just going to watch our land be exchanged for a bunch of bonds that could become worthless at any moment?"
A sinister glint flashed in De La Garce's eyes.
"He wants to use Parliament to pass the bill, so we'll use the rules of Parliament to bury it in Parliament."
He slowly scanned the crowd and uttered their countermeasures word by word.
"drag!"
"We won't argue about the principles of the bill; we'll only get bogged down in the details!"
"What are the valuation standards for the land? Is it based on last year's harvest or the year before? Is it only for wheat, or does it include the olive groves? We need to establish a 'Land Valuation Committee' and spend a year thoroughly studying this!"
"Why is the bond interest rate 3%? Why not 2.5% or 3.5%? How much impact will this have on national finances? We need to establish a 'National Financial Risk Assessment Committee' and invite experts from all over Europe to conduct an assessment!"
"How should farmers' eligibility for loans be verified? Who guarantees their repayment ability? If they cannot repay, who will bear the bank's bad debts? This requires a 'Farmers' Credit Rating Committee'!"
With each point he made, the eyes of the assembled councilors lit up a little more.
They saw a glimmer of hope for victory.
They intend to use the cumbersome parliamentary procedures, endless amendments and committees, to weave a huge net and drag this ambitious bill to its death in the quagmire of parliament.
"Doesn't he want to maintain a semblance of decorum?" De La Garcez sneered finally. "We'll give him the most 'decent' procedures, letting him watch his bill rot and stink, bit by bit, within these 'decent' procedures!"
The following day, when the National Land Redemption and Distribution Act officially entered the parliamentary debate process, a war without gunpowder officially began.
The oligarchic members of parliament began their spectacular performance.
A member of parliament known for his eloquence stepped onto the podium and began by praising His Highness the Crown Prince's benevolence and foresight with the most eloquent language, expressing his "principle support" for the bill.
Then, he changed the subject.
"But gentlemen! The devil is in the details! To ensure the flawless implementation of this great bill, we must discuss every single clause with the utmost care and rigor!"
He then introduced the first amendment, which called for the establishment of a special study group to study “the valuation differences of land with different slopes in Thessaly.”
A long, absurd performance began.