Kundrati

[jebjab]

Opinion: The Dawn of a New Movement

Týdenní zprávy Tamasine

Asteko Tamasinaren Berriak 

In the city center of Kasaema, Pavel Šindelář stands atop a makeshift stage, adorned by banners bearing slogans of a new movement. The banners read "Boj za Kundrati" -- The Fight for Kundrati. Šindelář is a man of many talents; he graduated with a doctorate in civil engineering just under twenty years ago, utilizing his expertise as a planning and design consultant for various public works projects focused on transportation within and outside Kundrati. A victim of Kundrati's famous brain drain during the Legionary rule, he achieved his greatest personal successes outside of Kundrati but returned to form his own business there, seeking to contribute, hopefully lucratively, to the country's vast and complex process of rebuilding. From the ashes of a war-torn Kundrati, Šindelář Technologies was formed, rising through a mixture of hard work, technical expertise, and astonishing luck into a fairly reputable civil engineering firm, rising to prominence through a set of particularly lucrative government and private contracts over the last decade.

But Šindelář is more than just an engineer or a businessman. He describes himself as a Kundratijan above all else; he had always had political aspirations, but the chaos of the nation presented him with great barriers. He had a family, he feared retribution, and he wondered, why should he risk everything he has to go into the business of politics, one where no one wins. After all, the worst thing for a man whose livelihood depends on government contracts to do is to get into politics outside of the mainstream. That is, until the announcement of the Kundrati Income Doubling Plan. For Šindelář Technologies, it seemed an amazing opportunity to once again be the beneficiary of a vast network of government investment. For the man himself, it was an opportunity to make his political aspirations come true.

In comes Boj za Kundrati. The name is simple: Šindelář presents himself as the candidate who will truly fight for Kundrati. But it's also more than that. To those who idolize him, he's the only fighter in the ring who can fight for Kundrati. Who better, his supporters argue, to lead the country into its greatest period of economic growth than a man who has spent his whole career creating the infrastructure behind plans like the KIDP. Thus, to the dissatisfaction of his company, he went on leave. The following year, he announced a self-funded campaign for the Legislature, but not under either of the traditional two parties. Pavel Šindelář, he announced, would be creating a new political party, one dedicated to the economic interests of the country. Šindelář himself has an unusual set of ideas; a religious man from birth, he holds fiercely socially conservative beliefs, a sign of his upbringing in an era of deep-rooted institutional conservatism. In contrast to his conservatism in certain aspects of life, he is a strong proponent of government interventionism in the economy, advocating for extensive government spending to revitalize a new, business-friendly but state-led Kundrati market.

Naturally, he campaigns heavily in the sphere of his own expertise–infrastructure development. In a country shredded to pieces by years of war, the government must take control of its own natural resources, create opportunities for refining and export, and develop infrastructure. After all, he argues, economic studies show tremendous returns on government investment in infrastructure, especially in countries facing profound poverty and instability.

Today, however, is one of the most important days yet for Šindelář. Boj za Kundrati entered the parliamentary race with a limited slate of candidates, and an unusual lineup at that, ranging from experienced and disaffected local politicians to businessmen and trade workers, much like Pavel Šindelář himself, with little formal political experience. Šindelář has spent too much time in Kundrati to have the unwavering optimism about politics that seems to run rampant throughout his base of supporters. For that reason, the party entered the election with a profoundly pessimistic attitude about their prospects for gaining significant legislative representation.

Nevertheless, as time went on, things began to look up for Šindelář and his party of upstarts. Appealing to a wide tent of blue collar workers seeking change from the seemingly-inveterate Kundratijan political establishment, educated professionals drawn to Šindelář’s own background in the corporate world and desire for economic growth in a new Kundratijan mixed economy, and hawkish conservatives seeing him as a stabilizing force in the shallow murky waters of post-Legionary Kundrati politics. A small group of grassroots organizers, centered out of basements, garages, dingy offices, and street corners dotted across the country, began to grow little by little into a place of reasonable competency.

Now, by no means was Boj za Kundrati a political powerhouse or an organizational machine, nor was it particularly close, but it seemed that the previously-onerous goal of legislative representation was at last beginning to creep over the horizon. In any case, the light at the end of the tunnel was Šindelář himself. Polling showed him holding a razor-thin margin in a newly-vacated legislative seat, and who’s to say that the new party’s leader wouldn’t be able to make an impact in the legislature, even if he must find himself standing alone.

Now, back to Kasaema. It’s October 5682. The election is just over a year away. Šindelář gets up on stage to a modest crowd. He’s mildly disappointed by the turnout, but he muses to himself that one can only ask for so much. He begins to speak; it’s a spiel that his supporters have heard, worded and re-worded, dozens of times before. Dr. Šindelář is not a particularly good or bad speaker, but at least he’s consistent. After all, he could always find a political surrogate to do the speaking for him. In some ways, he’s an exceptional man–he’s had a great career, a great life, and he has a great future on the horizon, but you wouldn’t necessarily think it if you saw him, or heard him, for that matter. But maybe that’s part of what makes him so great.

As the rally draws to an end, the crowd disperses, walking, biking, and driving back to their homes, their jobs, and their lives. Most of them had seen the destruction their country had faced so violently and so destructively. Maybe, many of them would ponder, Šindelář, this businessman turned political upstart, could be the continuation of a nascent trend of economic, social, cultural, and political growth for their country that had lost so much in so little time. Šindelář leaves the stage, the banners still fluttering gently in the breeze, telling a story of a fight for Kundrati that was just beginning.

For Šindelář, the path to the legislature is anything but certain. He had faced political obstacles before, and some of them had been too hard to overcome. Yet, his supporters were starting to see what they felt was a bit of a shift in the paradigm. Next year, if all went well, a new movement, this time with the legislative representation to make a tangible difference, could take root in Kundrati politics.

Whether or not Pavel Šindelář ultimately secures his seat, Boj za Kundrati, the fight for Kundrati, had begun, formed around an engineer from Lirnak.