[TWI ONLY][SEMI-CLOSED]Jerigan Constitutional Crisis

[Jeriga]

OOC

12-9-22

By order of the King, Telmo Gonzalo is not to be allowed on the Palace Grounds. Upon arrival, Señor Gonzalo is to be told that he is not worthy of being the People’s servant. Parliament must choose someone else.
- His Royal Majesty

Gonzalo read the note again and again as the guard waved them by the Parliament’s gates and cameras flashed through the windows. He hardly even noticed himself getting out of the car and turning to face the reporters.

“The King has spoken,” the words spilled from his mouth. “He has shown that the constitution of 1937 is at the mercy of the King. That monarchy, which we thought was subdued, has chosen to assert itself over the issue of an accident. I am not without fault in that ordeal, but the King is using this as a chance to regain power.” He stared out into the crowd, his face red. “We will not allow it.”

With almost as fluid and about-face as the Gate Master had done, Gonzalo turned and stormed up the stairs to Parliament. Once inside, he was met by a crowd of UWP MPS.

“What have you done?” one of them blurted out. “You might as well have declared war!”

“War?” Gonzalo scoffed back at him. “War has already begun, Eirno! The King, that damned priest, has left this country without a government!” He kept walking down the hall as he talked, the small crowd following behind him, concern written across their faces.

“But what can we do?” another called out from the back.

Gonzalo spun on his heel, his overcoat swinging behind him. “If that man can ignore almost a hundred years of precedent, then we can ignore him! What command does he really have? We will keep operating as normal. Eirno, summon the ministers. Natan, organize an interparty meeting for noon. We will see where the parties stand.”

“Sir,” Eirno stuttered, “We’ve been trying to do that since the moment your car left this morning. The Opposition hasn’t responded to any calls.”

Gonzalo thought for a moment. “Well, we have the majority, we’ll do it alone. Just summon the ministers!”

[Jeriga]

12-9-22

It felt like he had worn a rut into the fine carpet that made up the floor of the spacious office, having paced around the conference table at its center for the length of his wait. After about an hour, there was a tap at the door. Gonzalo spun around.

“Enter!”

The door opened revealing his Deputy Prime Minister, Celio Valerio. “How you doing, Gonzalo?”

The lack of “Prime Minister” stung, but Gonzalo didn’t let it show. “Well, not good. Where are the others?”

“Javier, Nazario, and Victorino are all coming up,” Celio said as he sat down at the conference table. “I think I saw Bruno too.”

Gonzalo remained standing. “Bruno? That would be good. What about Sofronio?”

Celio made a nervous laugh and leaned forwards in his chair a bit. “Come on, Gonzalo. He was the only traditionalist member you appointed. Of course he will support the King.”

Gonzalo chewed the inside of his lip, which was thick with scar tissue from the habit. “Well, I understand. He may just feel the need to keep the Defense Ministry running. Still, what about Fidel? No need to worry about economics when you don’t have the authority.”

“I didn’t see him.”

Another tap at the door. “Enter!” Gonzalo barked.

Javier, Nazario, and Victorino nervously shuffled into the room followed by a stern-faced Bruno.

“Former Prime Minister Gonzalo,” Bruno began.

“Please, Bruno,” Gonzalo said softly. “I thought we were on a first name basis.”

Bruno seemed unmoved; the unfeeling diplomat of war having replaced the warmth of friendship. “Former Prime Minister Gonzalo, I am here to tell you that what you are doing is illegal, that your presence here is improper and inflammatory, and that you will not have my support, nor the support of the Ministries of Defense, Commerce, or Foreign Affairs.” The other ministers shuffled quietly, Celio’s eyes stared straight ahead. “We have chosen to continue operating our ministries until such time as we are told not to by a lawful order of King or Parliament.”

“No!” Minister of Internal Affairs Victorino stood and slammed his hand down on the table. “This cannot be! You are tossing your lot in with an unelected King rather than with the Republic you’ve served for what? 15? 20 years?”

“And you are throwing your lot in with a man who has been dismissed by the constitutional authority of the King,” Bruno said in an even tone. “While you gentlemen carry on in your antics, we will run our agencies in the interest of the nation. Foreign affairs, defense, commerce. We keep the nation running and safe. Enjoy your squabbles.”

“Bruno,” Gonzalo said through gritted teeth. “We have been friends for nearly a decade. I’ve eaten at your home and you in mine. How many times have we stayed up late into the night solving some new crisis together?”

“Crises you caused, Gonzalo. And I will not help you solve a crisis that involves fighting the King and the Constitution.” Bruno looked around the room. “If any of you enjoy your country’s constitution, your political careers, or have any love for the King and what he stands for, then you should leave with me. If not, may God help you.” Each of the other ministers looked around, waiting for one to react. No one moved. “Very well.” With a quick tap on the wooden table, Bruno turned and walked out of the room.

There was a long moment of silence before Gonzalo finally sighed.

“Well, gentlemen, I think we see that our next steps are going to be difficult and divisive. However, I believe, with all my heart, that what we are doing is not trying to retain power, but to protect Parliament and our democracy from a young pup of king who aims at being a tyrant. If that is what you believe, then we can plan our next moves. But I can’t do it without you.”

The ministers nodded slowly. Labor Minister Javier Kiko spoke first. “Between the 5 of us, we have a large political network. Parliament has shown that it will support us even without the right wingers.”

“I agree.” Celio’s responded quickly. “Parliament will vote with us in every step against this. You were elected by Parliament, Telmo. It must fight for its rights. What we need to do is meet with the party leaders, try to bring the right on our side. But before then, I say we grab the most influential party members and go again to the Palace.”

“And what?” Nazario, Minister of Education, asked. “We ask nicely and the King assents? I doubt that.” Nazario rubbed his short beard slowly as he said it. “We must be careful. If we are not, then, with the support of the defense minister, the King could act in ways we could only dream of.”

“Are you suggesting the King would perform a coup?” Gonzalo flicked a pen nervously as he sat down at the end of the table with them.

“If I know Sofronio well, which I would hope to say I do,” Nazario continued, “it’s not outside the realm of possibility.”

“Highly unlikely, though,” Celio picked up. “If we make a show of force at the Palace, the King will likely just dismiss parliament and call for fresh elections. Elections I think we would win a larger majority in. The people won’t accept a tyrant over their Parliament.”

“Yes, democracy is in their blood. We fought for it,” Gonzalo said slowly. “A show of force it is.”

With several nods in agreement, the ministers began to make calls. Tomorrow morning, they would be at the gates of the Palace.

[Jeriga]

1-24-23
Montien

"Get off of me!"

The various aides and doctors jumped backwards when the King yelled, their feet scuffing the tile in their haste. The King stood, his face contorted in a tight grimace as he moved his arm, its sleeve covered in blood. A piece of glass protruded from his arm, wrapped in a reddening bandage. Elroy unwrapped his bandage and looked at the wound carefully as the doctors looked on. He had gotten out of the car after the first explosion, only for a second to send glass flying his direction. A foolish move.

"It's not even that deep." He then yanked the glass out of his arm and wrapped a bandage around it, simply allowing the blood to fall and stain the carpet emblazoned with the royal seal. The doctors began to rush forwards, but he waved them off.

"This is nothing," the king said as he looked up at Sofronio, his defense minister. "Sofronio, did the Celion make it to the airport?"

"Yes, your majesty. He should be taking off now."

"Good," the king patted the bandage to make sure it was firm, then sat down. "We have to destroy the socialists."

"Pardon me?" Reyes said from the corner where he watching a news clip. "Destroy the socialists?"

"Destroy them. Top to bottom. They are just as responsible for this attack as any of those dead bombers. We have to cut this off right here, right now."

Sofronio smiled. "I've already begun, your Majesty. If you sign this, I will put Montien under martial law and arrest every socialist MP in the city for questioning."

The king grabbed the paper and signed it quickly. "No time for softness, Paquito. Move quickly."

"Yes, your highness." With that, Sofronio spun on his heel and marched out of the room as Reyes watched.

"Obviously 'destroy the socialists' is not the line we want to use at this moment." Reyes sat down as the King waved the doctors away. "We need to be more tactful. Investigate. And you need to go visit the wounded officers in the hospital. If you want to use this the way you are, then remember your image must carry you through. Your moral authority is secondary to your political authority, especially right now. You must use both to convince the people to come to your side in this. They will be nervous."

"As always, Reyes, you are right." The king slouched in the chair, finally letting the pain radiate up his arm. "Set it up. We will make an address from the hospital." He looked up at his chamberlain standing silently in the corner. "Fetch me a new shirt. We will go out now."

He nodded, then disappeared.

"The most important thing," Reyes said as the chamberlain left, "is that we decide now whether we trust the traditionalists to make the right moves or to attempt to make our own way."

"No, I trust that we will be able to restore the constitution. The Traditionalists must win the election. They are the King's Friends, after all. We mustn't make enemies of our friends."

"You're sure on this path?"

"I am."

Reyes smiled. "Then let's get you to the hospital."