Colorless King (5)
The season when barley stacks briefly fill the warehouses, only to be replaced by wheat.
Not a revolution from below, but a Duma vote ordered from above began.
Meanwhile, Nikolai diligently underwent heir training, but no matter how crash-course it was, the eight-to-fifteen-year process couldn’t transform him into a polished monarch overnight.
Instead, this fueled the perception that the parliament was created because he recognized his own shortcomings, using it as a substitute.
Local zemstvos convened to form the national Duma, the parliament.
The parliament can propose new laws—essentially policies.
If the Tsar approves.
The prime minister system isn’t in place yet, but the parliament can demand a minister’s replacement.
If the Tsar allows.
The parliament can request audits of the executive by the judiciary.
If the Tsar agrees.
With two-thirds support, the parliament can even amend the Fundamental Law.
Unless the Tsar vetoes.
Of course, it must pass the Senate first.
No matter their ideology, every party pledges loyalty to the Tsar, vying to prove they can best serve the young monarch.
“We must emulate Britain! A constitutional monarchy is the only way to unify the nation and ensure prosperity for all!” one cries.
“We’re not here to be a mere advisory board. We must seize power before the Tsar wakes up to it!” another whispers.
Oddly, given Alexander II’s recent death, there aren’t many shouting for class abolition or socialism—revolutionaries are sparse.
The empire hasn’t been under the current Tsar long enough to embrace them openly.
“Let’s see, the biggest faction is the Democratic Party,” Nikolai mused.
In the original history, it was the “Constitutional” Democratic Party, but they’re playing it safe, dropping “Constitutional” from the name.
Founded by Pavel Milyukov, it’s packed with intellectuals.
Scanning Okhrana’s list of key figures, Nikolai spotted familiar names.
“Duke Georgy Lvov. His family went broke in his father’s time with serfdom’s end, drowning in debt,” he noted.
A man who went from the empire’s elite to one of its poorest noble heirs overnight, now wielding influence rivaling Milyukov’s.
“Vasily Alexeyevich Maklakov. Just a nobody lawyer now, but destined to lead liberals. He’s in the Democratic Party, too,” Nikolai said.
The Democratic Party has a whiff of socialism with wealth redistribution talk but mostly backs constitutional liberalism and monarchy.
They fought for the White Army in the original Red-White Civil War, so they’re hardly pure revolutionaries.
“Ideologues. They’re dreamers, not pragmatists,” Nikolai muttered.
Still, their liberal bent attracted big players like Ivan Konovalov, a manufacturing tycoon and major business connector, as a key backer.
Then there’s the Progressive Party, similar in vibe. Nikolai summed them up in one word:
“Bourgeois party. Capitalists who think their hustle is inherently progressive.”
Also heavy with intellectuals, but Nikolai doubted they’d secure many seats.
“This is still a peasant nation. Bourgeois begging for votes? Good luck,” he thought.
The Progressives, paying hefty taxes, will likely grab a few urban seats.
Their likely rivals? The Labor Party.
“Originally the Russian Social Democratic Labor Party… they dropped the front part, too,” Nikolai noted.
If bourgeois sweep urban votes with tax-backed influence, the rest go to the Labor Party.
They don’t openly flaunt it, but they’re straight-up leftists.
Marxist, hardline socialist. Not yet denying the monarchy outright, but the seed of the Communist Party.
“They’ll grow into Mensheviks and Bolsheviks,” Nikolai said.
Strip the monarchy from their ideology, add “worker-peasant alliance” theories, and it’s a straight shot from Marxism to Leninism.
The birthplace of Vladimir Lenin’s Leninism, the Soviet Union’s founding ideology.
Finally, the Conservative Party.
Nationalist, closer to the monarchy than others—though “closer” means preferring constitutional over absolute monarchy.
Funnily, their conservatism and nationalism mesh well with the Orthodox Church.
Reports suggest devout Orthodox followers lean toward the Conservatives, along with plenty of bureaucrats.
Some minor parties swept regional votes or formed but lacked candidates, yet a four-way structure emerged.
Left to right: Labor, Democratic, Progressive, Conservative.
By seats, the Democratic Party will dominate, Conservatives and Labor roughly equal, Progressives with a few.
Where do the empire’s nobles fit?
Elections are for the lower house.
Highborn don’t beg votes from inferiors.
Instead, they’re scrambling behind the scenes for Senate seats.
The Senate, per tradition, is entirely appointed by the Tsar, following Peter the Great’s “Senate” model, selecting elites based on scholarship, status, achievements, reputation, and age.
So, upstarts clawing for power or nobles banking on lineage alone? Tough luck.
“Stick to tradition,” Nikolai said.
University rectors.
Regional representatives.
Retired bureaucrats or government officials.
As always, one seat each for newer territories like Ukraine, the Orthodox Church, and a military nominee.
While the lower house election buzzed, I built a Senate that screams fairness and diversity.
Referencing Alexander II’s era, the Senate’s just twenty-five seats.
I crammed the empire’s best into those twenty-five.
A government where everyone participates—meaning no one dominates.
The Senate even doubles as a civil court, so these specialists-turned-politicians will struggle.
Maybe they’ll pass one law for their field before their term ends. Or not.
I know this parliament’s launch carries massive expectations, shaking the nation.
As long as the election’s fair and I don’t veto every proposal, it’s a damn reasonable system.
Reasonable? For an empire stagnant for fifty years, it’s a seismic reform, a power shift.
But I know better. One system doesn’t fix everything.
1905 proved it. 1917 proved it. Even after the Soviet Union’s birth in 1922, it held true.
Is the empire’s misery really just the system, or are thousands of hidden problems blamed on it? History answers.
“If the system’s fair but reality stays the same… what happens to that hope?” Nikolai wondered.
Probably turns to resentment, anger, skepticism, disappointment.
But that’s not enough. I want to push further.
To despair.
People need to hit rock bottom to face reality.
When that cry echoes across the empire, I’ll be ready.
Ready to reform.
Why did Russia become the socialist Soviet Union?
Lenin? Did one Vladimir Lenin convince 120 million subjects to embrace socialism?
Future studies offered countless analyses.
The era forced a choice between monarchy or socialism, and people bet on the new ideology.
Lack of basic education meant the main intellectual class leaned socialist.
Or capitalism’s rapid spread since the 1860s outpaced the medieval monarchy, creating a gap.
I used to think these were all solid, reasonable theories.
But with all that knowledge, facing reality shows a huge disconnect.
First, socialism’s key word: workers.
Weird, right? This is a peasant nation, ninety percent farmers. Even entering the 20th century, it’s hard to dip below eighty percent.
In 1899, urban workers were just seven percent of the population. Isn’t “labor” an odd rallying cry?
Sure, rural laborers exist, but they’re tied to agrarian society.
The Soviet’s “means of production” sharing and self-liberation? Not quite the same.
I’ve wrestled with this for five years. Why were areas farther from the capital, closer to the Far East, more monarchy-friendly?
Why did wealthier European Russia cooperate with communism faster during the Red-White Civil War?
Why did imperial subjects, clueless about communism, so easily embrace a “revolution” that flipped everything?
As crown prince, I tried unraveling it from theory, but it wasn’t easy.
Now, as Tsar after Father’s death, it’s clear. It hits me in the gut.
To this era’s subjects, communism is, plain and simple, land.
The Soviet’s “shared means of production” wasn’t about factory shares for workers—it was land for peasants.
Alexander II’s land reforms, thirty years on, are still a mess, unfinished.
They think it’s not that land can’t be given—it’s that it’s withheld.
Land’s right there.
It has an owner.
But not for them.
Then communism says, “We’ll give it to you, by any means necessary.”
Grandfather’s reforms focused on “class,” but in Russia, class and land are inseparable.
Like Duke Lvov, who lost land and wealth, now begging votes from peasants his family once ruled.
The harvest is done.
The election’s almost over.
The parliament will launch with dreams, hopes, and expectations.
Casting aside endless musings, I have one question for this parliament:
“Can you give the empire’s people land?”
Quality land, within the law, enough to satisfy every peasant.
If they can’t…
They’ll face the wrath of both Tsar and people.
