N-M #586 - Constitutional Convention (Part 1)
#586 - Constitutional Convention (Part 1)
First, a noble cried out in alarm, followed by murmurs spreading through the right and center seats.
Like falling dominoes, the discussions grew louder and louder, with almost everyone talking and even pointing at the contents of the "Draft Charter" in astonishment.
"We disagree, absolutely disagree!" the representatives on the right side shook their heads vehemently, even emitting boos.
"This is exactly how it should be!" Seeing more opponents, those on the left stood up to praise, "The nobles should have been controlled long ago!"
In the middle seats, some applauded, some booed, but most remained silent.
The source of sovereignty must be a sufficiently powerful imagined community that can gain the recognition of the majority.
From this perspective, the "absolute authority of the Holy Father" is an excellent sign, no problem here.
But from the second sentence onwards, things started to go wrong.
Because although Horn made concessions, a closer look reveals the underlying meaning—God authorizes man, and man authorizes the monarch.
Seemingly divine right of kings, but in reality, it adds a human authorization link.
Don't underestimate the sensitivity of Moliaty and other nobles; they can tell at a glance that Horn's move essentially diminished the divine aura of the crown.
With the divine aura gone, everyone can clearly see the dirt on the crown.
For these noble lords, the leader's position being granted by the faithful is undermining their foundation. If this passes, they will have no foundation at all.
Although they had fought alongside Horn in the Thousand River Valley War, Count Nathaniel couldn't wait to stand up: "Lord Horn, are you suggesting that our titles, passed down through generations, actually depend on the recognition of the people?"
"Of course," Horn admitted frankly, as there was no point in playing dumb at this point.
"This is absurd, on what basis?" Although he was speaking to Horn, Count Nathaniel kept glancing at his companions on the right side, "Our titles as lords were established by the will of the Holy Father and won by our ancestors with blood and sweat.
Lord Horn, how can you equate these honors with the recognition of the people?"
The surrounding nobles nodded in agreement, and even the monks and lesser nobles in the middle seats began to nod as well.
Nobles are also divided into different ranks: transcendence first, title second, living off taxes first, and relying on manor estates second.
Based on this division, there are great nobles like Moliaty, rural nobles like Sampoli, and nobles with empty titles or even no titles like Ovid.
The three are not always on the same side, but their interests are aligned on this matter, so they naturally support each other in the meeting.
Before Horn could speak, Monk Thomas stood up first: "Are your clothes woven by yourself? Is your lunch made by yourself?
You have always considered yourselves agents of the Holy Father, but the Holy Father bestows all things upon the faithful. Isn't the survival and prosperity of the territory dependent on the hard work of the people?
Without the people, all the lord possesses is a wasteland."
"Good—" The soldiers of the Salvation Army under the black and red banner and the monks who worship the Holy Father cheered.
Nathaniel's face flushed red, but he still argued forcefully: "The Holy Father entrusted the land to us; we are His stewards. Is it not challenging the authority of the Holy Father to let the people 'authorize' us?"
"The Holy Father grants you power not to be superior, but to manage the territory with justice and mercy.
If the people lose trust in you, does this not mean that you have failed to fulfill the will of the Holy Father well?"
This time, even Martin, as a representative of the middle seat, couldn't help but stand up and refute.
As a monk from an orthodox background who participates in the Holy Father worship debates every week, Martin's few words left Nathaniel speechless.
"The affairs of the lord... how can they be judged as good or bad..." he argued, his face flushed, veins bulging on his forehead, and his words slurred.
Count Sampoli couldn't help but stand up in support: "It would be good if the people could manage themselves. I have seen the natives on the Zealand Islands; they have no lords and are so barbaric!"
Saying that, he turned to Horn and said politely, "Lord Horn, you have led armies before, you must know how an army will collapse without a clear commander.
Similarly, a territory needs a lord. The meaning of the lord's existence is to provide order and security for the people. The people have no ability to manage themselves; our management of them is our charity to them!"
"Boo—"
"Disgusting, disgusting!"
Hearing this, the Salvation Army officers on the left side knocked on the table one after another, using a massive amount of banging and insults to block the latter half of Count Sampoli's words.
The nobles also stood up and began to curse at the officers on the opposite left side, leaving the representatives in the middle seats stunned.
They thought the constitutional convention would be so solemn and dignified. Isn't this the same as their guild disputes or the village court's verdict?
Many previously restrained people's representatives felt a bit of their dreams shattered.
"Silence! Silence!" Moliaty roared, slamming the table with his iron fist.
With the entrance of the ceremonial officer and the military police, the representatives on both sides finally quieted down with great difficulty.
Horn made an inviting gesture: "Count Sampoli, please continue."
After thanking Horn, Count Sampoli glanced contemptuously at the officers on the left side: "As I said just now, we all know the state of those indigenous peoples: they have no lords, no order, and do not even know the meaning of civilization. Are we going to let Thousand River Valley become such a wilderness?"
Clearing his throat, Armand straightened his clothes and slowly stood up: "Count Sampoli is indeed knowledgeable and well-informed. The natives of the Zealand Islands you mentioned are examples of a lack of education and civilization.
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But our believers are different. They have faith, skills, families, and connections with the congregations.
Without lords, will they become like barbarians? This is a bit of an underestimation of them.
Representatives, we are not against the existence of lords, but to correct the behavior of lords without limits. Obviously, hell cannot scare Prince Condé and some nobles; they still want to go against the tide.
Don't complain that the Holy Father did not send down divine punishment. Isn't the Holy Grandson here?
The duty of the lords is to assist and guide, not to control. Their behavior should be restrained by the Holy Father. The Holy Father sent down the Holy Grandson to establish this system to restrain the behavior of the nobles."
"Clatter—" The left side of the field applauded, and even Jean-Bon couldn't help but applaud. Sampoli's previous statement that managing them was charity to them made Jean-Bon feel uncomfortable for a while.
The faces of the people on the right side were obviously pale, and they started talking to each other again.
It must be said that this morning was an absolutely novel experience for Jean-Bon. The left and right sides went back and forth, even running to the middle to encourage votes.
During the period, two noble representatives tried to bribe and coerce the representatives in the middle and were asked to leave the venue, and one people's representative in the middle was disqualified for allegedly accepting bribes.
It's a pity that the fight lasted from morning to noon, but no results were obtained. Neither side could convince the other.
As the scorching sun rose to the center of the sky, the representatives were also exhausted. The two "tribunes" on the arbitration seat announced a recess for lunch.
"Everyone does not need to go out for lunch. The constitutional convention has prepared meals in the Holy Dining Hall, and there are beds in the guest rooms on the second floor to rest, but please arrive at the venue on time before 2 pm."
Holding the cream pastry that he hadn't eaten in seven or eight years, Jean-Bon found Liborole, who was eating in the corner.
Although they left the venue, the Holy Dining Hall was still divided into piles.
The nobles and knights occupied the terrace, the officers gathered on one side of the corridor, and the middle position was naturally occupied by the people's representatives.
"Why didn't I see the two tribunes?" Jean-Bon asked, licking his cream-covered fingers.
"The two tribunes will eat together." Liborole inserted a piece of honey chicken into his mouth. "It is estimated that there are important matters to discuss. After all, whether we can legally oppose the nobles still depends on the opinions of the two tribunes, right?"
A craftsman on the other side whispered: "I understand. We are representatives in name, but in fact, we are political consultants. The real decision-makers are the two tribunes."
"At least, if we can convince them, then Thousand River Valley can follow our vision to a certain extent." Liborole touched the representative badge on his chest. "The power of the representative is not great, but it is not small either."
The fate of millions of people in Thousand River Valley is in the hands of two people.
Liborole couldn't help but fantasize. What are they talking about now?
Is it the well-being of the people? Or the future of the country? Are they arguing fiercely because of differences, or are they making trade-offs for the upcoming bills?