TLIAW: Daughters of Elysium - The European Federal Election of 2019
- Thread starter Major Crimson
- Start date
Oh my god. He looks like a younger version of one of my college teachers from Ukraine.
At least Gorgeous George got put in his place, even if it was by Comrade Putin.
I'm really, really, really glad that I don't live in this TL.
I'm really, really, really glad that I don't live in this TL.
Putin was suspiciously sure of a Vigilant victory. Is the USSR trying to get the EF into unwinnable wars to cut down their rival?
Or the USSR is meddling into European elections to ensure instability and they are probably hoping to cause its dissolution.
Shit.
The End
5.50 AM
Oxford
“We’re going to win.” Marie slammed her fist down on the table. “Our alliance is miles ahead now and there’s no way in hell they’ll actually beat us in Britain.”
“They don’t need to beat us,” Mike was shaking his head, “They just need to stay ahead of us.”
“Marie’s right,” Arthur toned in, “Popular are going to get a majority and honestly if we can’t get 20 seats more than them in Britain do we even deserve to win?”
“Can you actually hear yourself? Of course we bloody deserve to win. And stop throwing around that “Popular” thing like it means anything – I wouldn’t be comfortable being in coalition with the Democrats, nevermind the bloody CPP. We’ve been fighting them since the Union started and now we’re all buddy-buddy?”
James and Simon nodded. “Not to mention,” the former said, “that I’m not convinced the CPP will stick with us in the long run -
“They will.” Arthur butted in, pointing his finger accusingly at no one in particular, “They believe in democracy, they’re committed to the League of Nations and if we’re being cynical then they’re under massive threat as a political union from the Connies and the VA. The Vigilant can steal a lot of their bible bumping thunder and if the Confederals are the best hope for the-“ he made quotation marks with his fingers “’Moderate’ right then the CPP will be destroyed. They have to stay relevant.”
“This has happened before you know!” Simon piped up, “We were so close to victory in twenty-oh-four, my dad was a CM you know.”
“We do know because you never shut up about it.”
“Yes but my point is that the system doesn’t always work right, sometimes you get to be the biggest party and get left out in the cold because you don’t have enough friends to stick with you in the long run. Do we really feel like we have enough friends right now?”
They all looked glum for a minute.
“We’re British and we’re socialists,” Marie said, “We’ve never had enough friends.”
They were all so exhausted now, most had been up for 24 hours – having woken at 4 or 5 to get in some early morning campaigning before people got to work. That, combined with a full day of enthusiastic leaftlet distribution and the often taxing conversations with voters, had left them all drained. That wasn’t even mentioning As their grumbling continued, Charlie Brooker had finally made it back on screen – apparently only to disappear again.
“It’s just struck six which means the British results are fast approaching, before that, however, we’ll take a quick spin around our map and digital parliament, that we’ve been neglecting for far too long now, first it’s over to Huw.”
Huw Edwards, who had been conspicuously absent for a good three or four hours now, seemed to have power napped his way back to full charge and honestly looked exactly the same at the start of the night.
Well as you can see ladies and gentlemen, gone is the four toned map from before-“ for a brief second the world beneath him lit up in a variety of navy, light blue, purple and orange before each country popped, going briefly white for a second and then inevitably fading into purple or black, only Germany was deviant - proudly bearing the colours of the Christian People's Party, even as they were wiped out on all sides.
“Deprived of those pretty orange and sky-blue hues, the map looks an awful lot darker now." Edwards intoned - whether he was being clever or not, the point struck home. "The Cooperatives have absolutely swept everything in northern and western Europe, whilst the South and East have gone to the Vigilant. People have been talking about a similar, regional divide in Europe for nearly a decade now but never have we seen it so perfectly laid out before.” The presenter's brow furrowed. “After the last electi, n we saw some serious violence, both political riots and later attacks on northern Europeans in the south and vice-versa. Whilst it might not be appropriate to speculate, one can only hope that things are different this time around. Notable is the success that countries closer to the Soviet Border have totally gone to the VA, perhaps their strong anti-Communist message resonated with those who feel under threat from Trotskygrad’s troops. As for the Coops successes, well it has tended to be in the wealthier countries and, unsurprisingly, from those countries with more liberal social values. Either way, the divide is extremely clear and a little foreboding for the years to come.”
“Don’t worry guys!” Arthur chimed up, “If we avoid Great War Two we can just have a Civil War instead.”
Mike threw a beer can at him and it bounced harmlessly off Arthur’s head as the rest of the group chuckled nervously.
“Thanks Huw,” Brooker nodded, “Now of course it’s over to our model parliament, Victoria?”
Back in the CG palace, there was only a sliver of empty space in between two hordes of rainbow beasts - the left and right had now been fully seperated to either side of the marble, neo-classical chamber.
“Yes its time for our penultimate quick tour around this beautiful digital room which you can now see is almost entirely full. With the CPP potentially splitting and with their new leader likely to have the choice of just which coalition will come into power, it looks like it’ll be whichever party of the two leaders pulls into pole position that can carry the day.”
“Now,” she said gesturing to the small spot of grey in between the eagles and lions. “There are 125 seats left to declare, recent polling has put the VA as doing well in Britain but we are expecting the Coop to come out on top. Most polls however, predict the gap between the two to be about 5ish seats with the Coop just about breaking 40 and both the Confederals and VA in the mid thirties. That kind of result would leave the Vigilant as the largest party and give the Justice coalition a much needed boost.”
“If we check out the coalitions…” the colours all flipped to pink and midnight blue, bar of course the Soviets who stayed crimson in their little corner. “We see that there is a sizable lead to the Popular alliance," indeed, the Pink side of the room looked a lot more numerous than the dark side but the gap was still too small for comfort, "Can they keep that lead with the opposition set to make up ground in Britain? Who knows.”
Back to Brooker with perfect timing. “Well thanks Victoria, we’ve got about sixty seconds before the British result is declared so we’ll go over there in just a minute. For everyone still watching however, I just want to say thank you for sticking with us all night and no matter whats about to happen, thank you for taking part in the democratic process: it’s not really about who won and lost, it’s about us coming together to choose our leaders ourselves. On all sides we seem surrounded by people who would rather we didn’t, who want to subject us to one form of dictatorship or another. Whoever’s Minister-President at the end of the night, at least we can say we chose them.”
He leant back in the chair and exhaled, checking his watch. “And now its over to London for the final British result.”
In front of parliament, as the sun began to rise over the Palace of Westminister, the Speaker of the House had been dragged outside and now stood on a raised podium above a clamouring horde of fleet street, MPs, TV crews and anyone else willing to venture out at 6 am.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” the speaker began, “I have been given explicit permission from the returning officer to recount to you the 2019 federal election results for the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, as well as Her Majesty’s Crown dependencies, Guyana, Bermuda Hong Kong and other overseas automous territories.”
“Come oooon.” Marie begged, “Don’t keep us waiting like this!”
“These results are final and absolute and with them, we bring a close to the election cycle. In last place, are independents and small parties with a collective eighteen thousand and eleven votes, garnering zero seats in the European Parliament.”
“Why the fuck do they even list that? When would they ever win.”
“SUSH!”
“The Marxist Solidarity Front receive three hundred and one thousand and fourty eight votes and a single seat in Parliament. The Left-Ecologist Front received five hundred and fifty seven thousand, nine hundred and thirty six votes, two seats.”
“That’s not a great showing for the nutters,” Simon whisphered, “all voting for us?”
“That,” Arthur nodded, “Or the right have stormed it.”
The Speaker continued, unfazed. “The European Democrats, three million, three hundred and ninety two thousand, three hundred and twelve. Eleven seats.”
On the edge of his chair, a bead of sweat dropped from Arthur’s brow to the floor.
“In third place,” come on, come on, “Are the Vigilant Alliance.”
A cacaophanous roar of joy shot through the room only to immediately silence itself as the students collectively realised the results weren’t actually in yet.
“-four million, eight hundred and thirty seven thousand, one hundred and twenty six. 16 seats.”
“Did we win?” Marie asked, desperately running through the maths in her head, Arthur was doing the same and shook his head. “Not quite, we need the Connnies to beat them by ten seats and us to beat them by another ten.”
Undettered but seemingly shaking with excitement himself, the speaker ploughed on. “Second place,” a pause as he squinted, who in their right mind would leave it down to two parties with such similar sounding names, “the Confederal Party.” Both in London and Oxford, there were no cheers yet – it was the numbers that mattered. “Eight million, one hundred and thirty one thousand, four hundred and fifty eight votes, twenty seven seats.”
“But that means-“
“And thus I can declare the winners of the British votes and indeed of the European Federal election are the Cooperative Party on nineteen million, nine hundredand fifty eight thousand, seven hundred and fifty five votes, sixty seven seats!”
Everything beyond the word nineteen was drowned out in cheers, shrieks, whoops of joy, the occasional sob, a burst of nervous laughter, clapping from the watchers in London – whatever animalistic sounds of relief and jubilation happened to burst forth. Arthur grabbed Marie and squeezed her tight before grabbing Simon by the wait and hoisting him into the air, dropping him he gripped the rest of them in a tight squeeze and the inevitable chanting began.
“WE LOVE YOU BRITAIN, WE DO!” was what got it going, before a clash of “I’m Britain till I die,” “Jeruslam”, “Swing Low” and, unsurprisingly, “the Red Flag” got started.
Back on the screen, Brooker had been joined on his far up podium by Cohen, Theroux and Edwards, each of them smiling in a slightly less than professional manner and clearly not quite ready for the cameras as they were still chuckling and shaking hands at what they had just heard.
Brooker, clearly having spotted the red light on the camera scrambled to regain his professionalism but just couldn’t shake his grin. “It’s almost time for us to say goodbye but just before we do, I’d like to hand over to the Leader of the Cooperative Party who, from his base in Manchester, is about to make a speech. In case I don’t see you, thanks once more for watching and have a good night. If by some miracle I don’t get fired, I’ll see you lot in a few years and there’s just one last thing to say-“ he paused for a moment, “thank god for that.”
Cutting now to a brightly lit room full of purple banners and wolf logos, with slogans and election posters on every wall, packed to the brim with activists teeming with excitement, a single podium on an improvised stage stood tall above them. At it, Gordon Brown stood smiling.
“THANK YOU BRITAIN!” Arthur had never seen the former Chancellor smile before, at least not without looking like a possessed puppet. “THANK YOU EUROPE!” He waved to the people and leant into the microphone. “After such a hard few years at home and across the continent, after such a hard fought election and such a tense evening it gives me so, so much pleasure to stand here and to talk to you all.”
Whoops and cheers came in response, even if by what was now 6.20 AM, they were starting to get a little ragged.
“But it gives me even more pleasure to introduce the leader of our party and the next Minister-President of the European Federation, Charles Kennedy!”
Gordon stepped off to the side as the blonde leader stepped up, the two men went into an embrace and shook hands vigorously before Kennedy, bristling with authority and confidence, stood up to where Gordon had been.
Waving to his fans, his supporters and now -Arthur supposed – his people, Charles Kennedy stood beaming at the podium. He had lost so much weight these past few years; a side effect of his “Get Britain Fit” scheme from when he’d been Prime Minister and his apparently tee-total lifestyle since a health scare in 2010. The man had just turned sixty but now, with glistening eyes and hands held high, beamed out at the crowd a younger man than he had been in years.
“Good morning Europe! A see a new dawn on the horizon, I see a brighter tomorrow – and not only because I’ve got the sun in my eyes. What we have done tonight, what every single one of us – supporters, voters, citizens – has done, cannot be exaggerated. Never in my six decades on this planet have I been so filled with hope, so excited to greet the day and start anew. When we started this campaign I made you all a promise, a promise that we would build a better future. Well that future starts now.”
Always a moderate in his party, a quiet but popular figure both within Britain and without, his firey denounciation of illiberal government legislation, his confidence and willingness to work with the Greens during his time in British politics and his skill both as an orator and a negotiator had all served to escalate him to the forefront of British politics during the turmultous post-war years of the 80s and 90s. Now it was not only Britain but Europe to which he proudly devoted his efforts. Running an election campaign on “Peace in Our Time”, echoing the words of British Hero Neville Chamberlain, Kennedy was consistently one of the most popular men in European politics. He promised higher taxes on the rich, more spending on education, peace abroad, protection of civil liberties and free speech, free childcare, a minimum wage. He was a man loved by socialists and liberals alike; gone was the stuffy, quiet Kennedy of his early days, here was a man proven and hardened by time but still endowed with the rarest of political virtues: decency and hope. Arthur had always leaned left but the rousing cry of Kennedy’s “Cooperative Future” had won him over fully. He had never been more committed to the cause and neither, it seemed had many of the others around him.
Kennedy’s speech continued but Arthur couldn’t really hear it. It was very good no doubt, probably one for the history books but exhaustion was starting to take its toll. He nodded forward and jolted back up, sleep was edging in.
Of course, every day that Kennedy inspired, promised and united, the men and women of the Vigilant seemed to do the opposite. They appealed to fear, to discord and distrust, they built on old bigotries and were unflinching in their efforts to find new foes, they saw a nation not just declining but rotting, assaulted within and without but decadence, foreign infiltration and upstart anarchists. They longed for the good old days, for Britain’s green and pleasant land, for France’s Belle Epoch, for Germany’s place in the sun. Their Europe, their world could not be further from the term “Veritas in Concordia”, United in Diversity. They read the first word and stopped their; “Unity” they always said “Unity” occasionally “purity” and “order” slipped through as well, sometimes “justice” or even “peace”. Anything they could do, any descriptor they could find to justify their cruel means and brutal ends. Dominion, that was what it always came down to; having dominion over all the people they could. The undesirables, the anarchic and unnormal could be done away with – sidelined and pushed away, deprived of their humanity and seen off as a force for anything but despair. The beloved, old and trusted peoples meanwhile could be coddled – herded into a future they didn’t know they wanted and protected from all the things they didn’t think dangerous. The Vigilant, like every other strain of autocrats in history said the same things, “We’re not like the others, we’re the only ones that care. We know best.” They smiled at that last point, confident in just how obvious they thought their message was “We’ll make things better, make them like they were.” Kennedy, like the Cooperatives had always done, as good men had always done, knew the truth. Things had never been better, people had always been poor, wars had always been fought and the rich had always oppressed the poor. What was more important than all of that however was that it could be better. If enough people came together, if the right men and women were allowed to succeed, then a brighter future could emerge. Not by looking to the past, by longing through rose-tinted spectacles for the golden age you only remembered and never lived, but by looking forward; eyes clear and vision uncorrupted. The fight wouldn’t be easy, it was always going to be up hill. There would be close calls, there would be set backs and losses and maybe in the end it would all be for nothing. Just maybe though, if enough people locked arms and kept on pushing, if they shrugged off the losses and defeats, if they stayed determined, a brighter future could be found.
Amidst the cheers and whoops, the tight hug Marie threw around him, the chants and songs and pure excitement that filled every heart and every corner of the room, Arthur only had the energy to smile. As the broadcast came to a close, it’s beleaguered and bleary eyed hosts escaping off to bed, a quiet song played, far from the bombastic celebration in the Oxford bar or the raucous arguments of the campaign it seemed so quiet, so fragile. Arthur sighed and couldn’t help but hum along – he’d never really cared that it didn’t rhyme in English.
"Freude, schöner Götterfunken,"
Drifting off quietly, content amidts the noise and the haste – overwhelmed with relief and joy, he mumbled the second sentence as he slowly faded into sleep. “Daughters of Elysium…”
Wow so that's the longest update I've ever done for the TL or any TL for that matter and given my Laptop's constant habit of crashing, this is about the third version. I hope we all like how it comes to a close: don't worry I've got a tiny epilogue and a little "History of" segment that will explain the world in more depth. I hope we've all enjoyed the ride, the Week turned into a month and six chapters turned into twelve but I'm pretty happy with how it all ended up. If you enjoyed the ride please read my other stuff, as always advice and comments are appreciated and soon there'll be a final seat count - I just need to sort all the specific numbers. So yeah, one mini update left but that the end of the story proper. Thanks so much for reading!
Charles Kennedy, president of Europe.
Britain saving Europe from a fascist-lead coalition.
Britain saving Europe from a fascist-lead coalition.
GOOD END UNLOCKED
Damn, what a wild ride this was. I can't wait to read more about the history and how it led to everything.
Damn, what a wild ride this was. I can't wait to read more about the history and how it led to everything.
Bravo! Britain saving Europe. Oh the irony. I love it.
WHAT A GREAT ENDING.