3.40: The People’s Council and Constitution

I reluctantly stopped the work on the sulfuric acid facility and transferred the craftsmen working on it to Frida and Fennar’s workshop. There, they all began building a dozen more threshers and winnowers.

Once the harvest arrived, all mining and smelting would have to be stopped if we wanted the housing construction to keep going.

I was miffed at Aprilia and the Elders about it, but didn’t say anything aloud. I could simply import the grain we needed for the winter from Nahnon. But, no. They had to produce their own. These proud patriots weren’t going to be swayed by the words of a filthy neoliberal globalist shill. If I refused to capitulate, I feared they’d call for my head for putting chemicals in the water and turning the frickin’ frogs gay.

Three days later, an event far more important than the harvest took place.

The very first election in the short history of Chadom.

I looked down from the gatehouse of the castle at the nascent settlement’s circular main square, bathed in bright morning sunlight.

Surrounded by the skeletons of half-built buildings, five booths of white canvas lined the square’s edges, shouldering the wide cobblestone road that led to the castle. Dozens of soldiers stood at attention as hundreds of men and women queued before the tents like ants. The line slowly crept forward every time the person at the front disappeared into a tent and left after casting their vote.

I could see the mild confusion and hesitation on some people’s faces from far away. Even though they had a tradition of electing Elders, this was a little strange for them. Two soldiers arrived with a container of ink.

Since at least half our people were illiterate, we had opted for symbols drawn next to the candidates’ portraits. A voter would take a stamp with his chosen candidate’s symbol and press it on the ballot paper.

With our small population, the polling and counting didn’t take long.

We already had the results by early afternoon.

The very first People’s Council of Chadom had been formed.

I went to our house to collect some documents. Inside, I found Aprilia sitting at the dining table in a flowing green dress, reading the draft I had left there.

“So? What do you think?” I asked.

Her head jerked upwards. She let out a long breath and set the parchment down.

“You’re giving up a lot of power by establishing these courts.”

“That’s the point.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not perfect.”

“You think those judges would be?”

“No. That’s the point of institutions. They work as a balance against the fallibility of individuals. I don’t want a repeat of Hyde’s trial.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was the target of those people, and I was the one who judged them and pronounced their sentence. That was not right.”

“Why not?”

“You think it didn’t affect my judgment? Especially after what almost happened to you and Lothar?”

“Hyde was trying to destroy everything you are trying to build! Locked up or not, he would have remained a threat.”

“Not him. Yara.”

She looked at me, waiting for an explanation.

“I may have been too hasty in ordering her death,” I admitted.

Her eyes hardened.

“She tried to kill you.”

“And failed.”

“Only because you have literal divine protection! Any other man would be dead!”

“Her actions were heinous and misguided, but she thought she was doing the right thing.”

“That doesn’t excuse what she did!”

“It doesn’t, but lifelong imprisonment might have been a more fitting punishment for her, rather than death. Unlike Hyde, her mere existence wasn’t a threat to anyone. I wasn’t objective enough to see that. That’s why we need a proper judicial system. Nobody should get to randomly sentence a person to death, especially not the victim or anybody close to them. There must be strict thresholds in place that must be crossed before we take actions that can’t be undone.”

She sighed, then looked up at me.

“Even if you’re right, you’re giving up too much power.”

“It’s the first draft, not the final document. We’ll polish it together with the new Council.”

She thrust the pages toward me.

“Keep them,” I said. “There’s only one copy. You will have to read it aloud to them.”

“I can hardly understand half the words. In case you forgot, I’m just a village girl, Not a noblewoman.”

“No. You’re better.”

She smiled devilishly, and hugged me.

“I’d thank you properly, but there are people waiting for us.”

We walked into the meeting hall together.

The new Councilors were already there, sitting around the long wooden table, opposite the three Elders and Lothar.

The Elders looked slightly uncomfortable, but it seemed they had finally accepted the new Council after I had repeatedly shown them I would not budge.

The elected Councilors quickly stood up, except for the oldest ones.

I looked them over. The youngest man there was the same one who had been the first to come forward with questions after Hyde’s trial.

Good.

That meant the people weren’t afraid to challenge their leader.

I had wanted Wolmar to join the Council, as a representative of the immigrants, as well, but I couldn’t risk showing him that Chadom was just me and a few thousand refugees.

Not yet.

Then my eyes fell upon the oldest person in the room.

“Surprised to see me here, Sire?” Matilda croaked.

“Not really, Madam Matilda.”

“I’m still young, I’ll have you know. I’m only sixty-nine.”

“You don’t look a day older than ninety-six.”

“Thank you…”

Her thin eyebrows came together. Somehow her wrinkle-ridden face developed even more of them.

“Oi!”

Someone cleared their throat.

“Sire,” Erickson spoke, “these are the new Council members; Tomas, mason. Mara, weaver. Harlan, farmer. Estel, housewife. Oren, miner. Sella, midwife. Baldov, blacksmith. Marta, farmer. Selig, teacher. You already know Matilda the healer.”

I inclined my head to them.

They followed, bowing more deeply.

“I said it during the trial, but I’ll say it again,” I began, “just so there are no betrayed expectations. Despite our name, we are not going to be a full republic for some time. Our future is still uncertain, and only a massive transformation of Chadom into a powerful state can save it. In light of that and the fact it will take time for me to teach everything I know to others, I will retain sweeping executive powers. Your role will be to present your age group’s concerns, advise me in making important decisions and laws, and govern Chadom in my absence. Govern, not rule.”

The younger Councilors nodded nervously.

I waved the documents in front of them.

“This is a rough draft for our Constitution I’ve come up with.”

I had assembled it from the fragments of principles I remembered. I was no lawyer, but during my libertarian phase in my early twenties, I had taken some glances at it to see if those “sovereign” citizen folks made any sense.

Should’ve focused more on Bitcoin than those loons.

Well, I now had something a lot more substantial than virtual money, if only I could keep it.

I looked around the table.

“I’d like us to refine this document together into the bedrock of a just, eternal nation.”

They sat down at my signal.

Then I began reading.

“We, the people of Chadom give ourselves this Constitution, for the protection, liberty and prosperity of all its citizens, now and forever.

“The sovereign state of Chadom derives its authority from its people, which shall be exercised through institutions established by this Charter.

“No person, office, force or authority is above the law.

“The laws of Chadom shall apply equally to all persons within its jurisdiction.”

Those last two lines would be the foundation of rule of law, to keep the common people safe from the whims of the powerful.

I continued.

“The state of Chadom shall be governed by the People’s Council, protected by its Armed Forces and its laws enforced by its courts.

“The Supreme Leader shall be the leader of the People’s Council and the Armed Forces of Chadom.

“Jack Nobhart shall be the only Supreme Leader of the nation, for life. After him, the position will be terminated and replaced by the office of President.”

I looked around. No one seemed to have an issue with the agreement I had reached with the Elders’ Council, so I kept going.

“People born in Chadom shall be considered its citizens by default.

“People lawfully admitted and accepted as permanent residents shall have the right to apply for citizenship.

“No citizen shall lose citizenship except according to established laws.

“Every citizen of Chadom shall have the fundamental right to life, security, liberty, ownership of property, enter lawful contracts, religion, freedom of expression, petitioning the government except in military affairs, peaceful assembly, and a fair hearing before any punishment.”

“Um… what does ‘petition’ mean?” Sella, the midwife, asked.

“Ask for information.”

I guess I’ll have to simplify it.

“The citizens of Chadom shall have the right to own houses, businesses and movable goods.

“The State may seize property only as punishment for lawful conviction, recovery of unpaid dues or matters of public necessity, with compensation.

“No taxation may be imposed on any citizen except by law.

“These rights, except for the right to life, may be restricted when necessary for the security of the nation or the prevention of serious crimes.”

I had reluctantly removed the right to own land, since Chadom was going to change drastically in the first few years. I would add it once we were safe enough to plan for the long term.

Rule of law also wouldn’t mean much without proper due process, so I had added provisions for that.

“No one shall be arrested except according to law.

“A person being arrested shall be immediately informed of the accusation against them, and will have the right to present a defense.

“Only a lawful court may determine their guilt and impose punishment.

“Judges of the court shall be appointed by the Council and will have tenure for life.”

“So the judges can’t be sacked?” Tomas, the youngest man, blurted out.

“The boy makes sense,” Harlan, the farmer, added. “What if they turn out to be crooks?”

“We are not going to appoint just anyone to the position. They’ll be chosen from one of the revered figures, like the Elders. And they can be removed under certain circumstances. I was getting to that,” I said, focusing on the document. “The People’s Council may remove them by a majority vote, but only if they are either incapacitated, convicted of a crime or found guilty of serious misconduct.”

“Who decides what is serious misconduct?” Tomas asked.

“Ugh. You ask too many questions.”

His face began to pale.

“It’s fine,” I said hurriedly. “We are here to refine this document, after all. Doesn’t mean I can’t complain. I like making things, not policies.”

Restrained laughter answered me.

“Let me just finish the rest first,” I said, continuing.

“The founders of Chadom, Jack Nobhart and Elders Erickson, Eliard and Bram will possess two votes each. No other individual may possess more than one vote, ever.

“During the Founding Period of Chadom, the People’s Council will consist of the Founders, the Supreme Leader’s secretary, the General of the Armed Forces, and ten Councilors, representing men and women from every stage of life, from twenties to sixties.

The Supreme Leader will possess the authority to veto any decision made by the Council during the Founding Period. Afterwards, the veto shall become suspensive, which a majority vote of the People’s Council may override after a second deliberation. The President will inherit those powers.”

Loud breaths echoed around the table.

People stared at me with wide eyes.

“You have questions?”

“You’ll let us pass laws even if you believe we are wrong?” Selig, the teacher, asked.

“Yes. I would call you fools, but I will not stop you. If Chadom is ever destroyed after the Founding period, it will be because every one of us here made stupid decisions, not just me. Why should I take all the blame?”

They looked at each other nervously.

Lothar sighed audibly.

“Sire, aren’t you making your position too weak?”

“No.” I shook my head. “There are provisions for dangerous times.”

I continued.

“When Chadom faces existential threats such as war, epidemic, famine or rebellion, the Supreme Leader may declare a state of emergency.

“During the state of emergency, the government may suspend individual rights it deems necessary, except for the right to life.

The emergency period may not extend beyond thirty days, unless renewed by the People’s Council.”

I paused and looked at Lothar.

“Better?”

He shook his head.

“It has another weakness. Every month you will have to beg the Council for an extension. What if they can’t meet?”

“Hmm. I didn’t think of that. I’ll add a clause allowing the leader to extend it to ninety days without the Council’s approval, but only when the existence of the nation is truly threatened.”

“That’s better, but you are weakening not just your authority, but the military’s as well.”

“How?”

“The courts. I don’t want soldiers wondering whether they will be hauled there for doing their jobs. What if a spy manages to gain citizenship and they have to covertly capture him?”

“We’ll… set up a separate military court. Speaking of the military, I have enshrined it as well”

I continued before they could bombard me with more questions.

“The Armed Forces of Chadom are the only military force recognized by the State. No private army, militia or guild may exist except by law.

“The Armed Forces shall remain subordinate to the civil authority established by this Charter.

“Every citizen from the age of sixteen to forty shall be considered a Reservist of the Armed Forces. They must present themselves for enrollment at the earliest training session after their sixteenth birthday and once every six months afterwards until the age of forty.”

The Elders’ Council and I had already agreed upon national service. This was just formalizing it for eternity. I hoped that young men struggling together would foster a sense of camaraderie between the Cha and the immigrants, bringing them closer.

“Um… when you say citizen, do you mean men and women?” Estel, the housewife, asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Women?” Oren, the miner, exclaimed loudly. “You’re goin’ to send our daughters to fight?”

“No… Well, not to the front lines.”

“But they will be fightin’?”

“Let me finish! They’ll be trained to defend their home while the men are away.”

“It ain’t right to put weapons in a woman’s hands!”

“There’s only thirty-three hundred of us.”

I didn’t mention the immigrants, in case he hated them.

“I’m preparing for the worst case scenario.”

“Oren, stop being an ass,” Old Matilda scolded. “Who’s gonna save us if you menfolk are dead or away?”

“I don’t like it.”

“Good thing you ain’t the Supreme Leader then.”

I put the documents down.

“I’m still working on the Penal Code and the Code of Criminal Procedure. These three documents will create a State that will last beyond any kingdom or dynasty.”

Aprilia sighed audibly.

I looked at her.

“Sire, who is going to understand all this?” she asked.

The new Councilors’ eyes traveled from her face to mine.

“What do you mean? Aren’t half of the Cha literate?”

“Literate doesn’t mean well-educated. I barely understood half the words and you had me trained for months. It’s far too complicated for most people.”

“Then we will simplify it and read it aloud to everyone.”

“That’s not enough.”

“It’s a start.”

I looked around the room.

“So, what do you think of it?”