Chapter 105
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 105
Chapter Title: Civil War (3)
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It goes without saying, but in the year 1840, the large-scale press conferences familiar to people of the modern era did not exist.
Of course, that wasn’t to say politicians had no way of communicating with the press.
Politicians typically held public speeches and meetings, which reporters would attend to ask questions or transcribe the politicians’ words.
Alternatively, politicians would often issue statements directly or leak information to newspapers.
Beyond that, they might leverage personal connections or newspapers would write articles by referencing Hansard, the official record of parliamentary proceedings.
But that was the extent of it.
The large-scale press conferences that modern people are so accustomed to would not become commonplace until the late 19th century.
So, the reporters, witnessing such a press-friendly performance for the first time in their lives, were utterly captivated, their eyes sparkling as they gazed in our direction.
Even the reporters from the *Morning Chronicle*, the *Daily News*, and the *Spectator*—all papers friendly to the Whig Party—looked at me with expressions full of goodwill.
Still, it was a bit amusing that since this was a first for everyone, no one dared to step forward.
Reporters not clamoring to unleash a barrage of questions—what a rare sight.
“First, I would like to thank all the reporters who have attended. I am sure many of you are wondering how this event came to be. Mr. Wellesley and I have been constantly contemplating how to effectively convey our party's position to you all. Politics is becoming more sophisticated by the day, and media outlets are growing in scale. We couldn't shake the thought: must we adhere to the old ways forever? Isn't this far too inefficient?”
The moment I finished speaking, the reporters nodded in unison, as if on cue.
In the modern era, they take a lot of flak, and even in this age, they are likened to hyenas, but there were still quite a few journalists with a sense of mission.
Those who sought to expose social injustices and critique politicians to make the world even a slightly better place must have felt a strong sense of absurdity in the current system.
This was because newspapers of this era were too often forced to write articles relying on scraps of information selectively fed to them by politicians.
But if a politician were to hold an official inquiry with numerous media outlets in a public setting like this, it would allow for countless questions that could never be asked in a private setting.
It is human nature to find courage and become bolder when part of a group.
“Therefore, Mr. Wellesley and I, as politicians, have devised a method to better convey our voices to you. This way, our unfiltered voices can better reach the citizens. From now on, we intend to hold such gatherings regularly to engage in what we believe is true communication with you all.”
“That’s wonderful!”
“Mr. Wellesley and the Minister are truly politicians who care for the citizens and the press!”
“Does this mean the Conservative Party will continue to communicate with reporters collectively in this manner from now on? You call this… a…”
“You can call it a press conference.”
“A press conference! I like the name. Hahaha!”
Of course, it wasn't as if there had never been instances of gathering reporters for this kind of Q&A before.
But this was certainly the first time it had been formally institutionalized, and as long as we framed it as a distinguishing feature of the new Conservative Party, the press would have no choice but to view us favorably for the time being.
Even the pro-Whig reporters would immediately return to their offices and churn out articles arguing that the Whig Party must hold similar events to compete with the Conservatives.
“I believe we have now sufficiently explained the reason for creating this forum. So, let us move on to the main subject. The events that took place in Parliament today have already spread widely throughout London, and most citizens are wondering what exactly transpired. Reporters, too, must be unsure of the precise course of events from reading Hansard alone, so we are here to provide you with the objective facts.”
“Is it a confirmed fact that the vote of no confidence in the Prime Minister passed?”
“It is. The Whig Party proposed the motion, and Mr. Wellesley here, along with a majority of Conservative MPs, voted in favor. This was not a simple matter of internal party strife, but a momentous decision made with the conviction that there are serious problems within the government.”
“Are you saying there are serious problems with Prime Minister Robert Peel’s cabinet? Minister Killian Gore, weren’t you a minister in that very cabinet?”
A reporter from the *Spectator* cautiously posed the question.
He was likely pointing out that I was spitting in my own face, but of course, I had anticipated such a question from the very beginning.
“To answer that, I must first explain the process by which I became a minister. I was not appointed because the Prime Minister had complete faith in me. On the contrary, he was likely hoping I would fail.”
As a fragment of a shocking truth, never before told, was revealed, the reporters’ faces clouded with confusion.
They seemed to have never imagined such words would come from the mouth of a man who had become a national hero as the youngest minister in history.
It was a delicious reaction, perfectly suited for the first topic of the world’s first-ever official press conference.
“The reason the Prime Minister sent me to the Qing Dynasty was that the diplomatic relations surrounding opium at the time had reached a complete impasse. Had things continued as they were, we would have been forced to start a war with no justification whatsoever, leaving a most shameful mark on the history of our glorious British Empire. However, the Prime Minister did not want this muddy water to splash onto him, so he set me up as a scapegoat. The excuse was prepared: we appointed a minister of Asian descent, well-versed in Asian culture, but it was unavoidable.”
“But Minister, you resolved the issue with incredible skill and even secured enormous benefits for the British Empire. I heard the Prime Minister held you in high regard after that…”
“That is not the truth. It seems the senior members of the Conservative Party were quite displeased to see someone so young succeeding so spectacularly. With the logic that since I had achieved much in Asia, I should remain in Asia, they tried to send me to Hong Kong as a special envoy, and it very nearly happened. I have evidence here that documents the entire situation at the time.”
As a stack of documents detailing the circumstances was laid out on the table, the reporters’ hands moved furiously, and they let out gasps of admiration.
A national hero who returned after a great achievement, only to be nearly demoted by the old guard within his own party.
Doesn’t that paint a very compelling picture, no matter how you sketch it?
“Then why did the plan to send you to Asia fall through, Minister?”
“Because in the midst of it, evidence was discovered that a significant number of senior Conservative members were involved with opium merchants. The Prime Minister was concerned this would affect his own approval ratings, and under those circumstances, he changed his plan. Instead of sending me to Asia, he chose to make a show of supporting the Great Famine relief efforts I was promoting.”
“My word, how could such a thing…”
“And as that project showed signs of near completion, they began to grow desperate again. If they left things as they were, my influence, not to mention that of Mr. Wellesley, who has gained much popularity, would become too great. That is why they began to attack Mr. Wellesley, using the Canada Immigration Act as a pretext.”
After I had explained the gist of the situation, Wellesley, who had been silent until now, took the baton and raised his voice.
“It goes without saying that I was taught to respect the achievements of my senior politicians and to always show them courtesy. Indeed, I pride myself on having followed that teaching and treated the party elders with sincerity. But how can respect be a one-way street? No relationship in this world should be founded on such a principle. If a junior respects a senior, the senior must in turn treat the junior with tolerance and consideration. But sadly, it seems our party has forgotten even this basic courtesy.”
“Is that why you confronted the Prime Minister?”
“I can tolerate attacks on myself. But Minister Gore here is a political partner I have watched over and supported since he was a boy. He is a talent who will one day grow into a great pillar supporting not only the Conservative Party but the entire British Empire. Does it make any sense to discriminate against and crush such a person simply because he is young and of Irish descent?”
If I had said something like that, it would have sounded like the whining of an Irishman. But Wellesley was none other than the second son of the Duke of Wellington.
When a core member of the English establishment, whose future was secure just by breathing, said such things, it wasn't a complaint; it was a powerful self-reflection.
“The British Empire is the greatest nation on this earth. Who are we? We are a politically advanced nation that established a parliamentary order faster than anyone else. Who are we? We are a nation of natural rights that abolished the slave trade and slavery before anyone else in the world. What this country needs going forward is ability. I will do my utmost to create an era where people of ability can fully exercise their talents!”
“Does that mean you would appoint anyone, as long as they have the ability?”
“Of course, I do not intend to focus solely on ability. Ability is important, but so is a patriotic heart dedicated to this nation! An unwavering conviction to protect the values inherited from our ancestors! I will welcome with open arms any talent who possesses these qualities, backed by ability. This is not mere lip service. The Minister right beside me is of Irish descent. And my dear friend, Mr. Disraeli, is of Jewish descent. But what of it? There are no greater patriots than they, who have contributed so much to the British Empire and think so deeply of its future.”
The reporters’ eyes gleamed as their hands moved ceaselessly across the paper, trying not to miss a single word, a single syllable that Wellesley uttered.
Wellesley deliberately paused for a moment to allow them enough time to write before continuing with passion.
“My vote in favor of no confidence was not simply because I was attacked. If that were the sole reason, I would have proposed the motion long ago. It was because the Prime Minister’s values, the government’s policies, were heading in a direction far removed from the course the British Empire must take to face a new era. I determined that someone had to correct this and restore the true spirit of the Conservative Party!”
“Does that mean you plan to completely break with Prime Minister Robert Peel's faction in the upcoming election?”
“It is truly regrettable, but we have been left with no other choice. How can we continue to entrust the party to those who try to trample the new shoots growing within it! Who use an immigration act, on which millions of lives depend, as a tool for political strife! And who still fail to reflect on their wrongdoing, crying that they have been betrayed. I, Charles Wellesley, will restore the true values of the Conservative Party through this election!”
“Ooh…”
The spark had been sufficiently kindled.
Now, through the *Morning Post*, which I had James acquire in advance, a series of special reports would follow, grinding Robert Peel and the party’s senior members into something finer than dust.
Even if they tried to mobilize their own media outlets to brand our move as propaganda, we had already landed the first blow with this large-scale press conference. The control of public opinion had shifted to our side.
Furthermore, I planned to slip each of the reporters here a piece of evidence that could finish off the Prime Minister and the corrupt party elders. Whatever the Prime Minister said would fall on deaf ears.
I heard that as soon as the vote ended, they put their heads together and decided to fight this with a media war. I couldn't be more grateful.
If they wanted to play a game of propaganda and fabrication, I would just have to give them a little taste of the viciousness of 21st-century politics.
The heat would be so intense, they wouldn't know what hit them.
As the reporters departed, constantly remarking on what a fruitful press conference it had been, Wellesley watched them with a pleased expression and asked in a low voice.
“Now that the first button is fastened, shall we begin the next step?”
“Let’s. In a day or two, they will realize a media war is hopeless and change their direction.”
“Fortunately, Father has agreed to help. The House of Lords will not be a problem.”
“What father wouldn't help his son become Prime Minister? Then I can proceed to the palace with peace of mind. I have an appointment to meet Her Majesty.”
When the media war fails, they will have to resort to crushing us with authority and power. But what to do?
By the time they come to their senses, not only the House of Lords but the Royal Family as well will be on our side.
Shall I wait with amusement to see if they can still hold their heads high after making enemies of every stratum of the British Empire?
Struggling to the end without accepting the tide will only make them sink deeper.
They may refuse to admit it even if they died and came back, but from this moment on, the Conservative Party is, for all intents and purposes, ours.