Chapter 194
Chapter 194
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 194
Chapter Title: Joseon-Style Standing Army (4)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The day after reaching an agreement with my father-in-law, I went to see Choi Yun-deok, the Minister of War.
>
Supplying makgeolli to the military was a full-fledged national undertaking, so just as in modern times one would need approval from the Minister of National Defense, I had to get permission from the Minister of War before starting.
>
"My lord, in my view, even if we can't pay wages to those fulfilling their military service for the nation, we should at least provide them with plenty of alcohol."
"We can't give them wages, but we should provide plenty of alcohol? Hmm, wouldn't it be more important to focus on feeding them until they're full?"
>
Feeding them well is, of course, extremely important.
>
In fact, after the Meiji Restoration, when the Japanese army implemented conscription, the most effective policy for maintaining soldiers' morale was indeed stuffing them with food.
>
If you look at the military life records from that era of the Japanese army—which could be called the epitome of shitty discipline—you'll find that the most common conversation among soldiers was, "It's great coming to the army because you can eat rice until you're full."
>
From that, you can see that in pre-modern societies, simply ensuring soldiers could eat their fill upon enlistment was enough to push it as sufficient welfare.
>
However, there are clear limits to that approach.
>
If the common people were generally starving and the only way to eat properly was to join the army, then maybe.
>
But in any other situation, just feeding soldiers until they're stuffed won't raise their morale.
>
"Feeding them well is something we must do, of course. But think about it—people aren't livestock. Do you really believe stuffing them with food will make all their complaints about military life vanish?"
"Military service means spending three years without seeing family or friends, without pay, living in some unfamiliar village. It's horrific just thinking about it."
"That's exactly why we need to provide ample makgeolli to help them relieve the joys and sorrows of service. How else could they endure it?"
>
Even up to World War II—and a bit after—militaries still rationed out alcohol.
>
Anyone who's experienced it knows: for soldiers cooped up in barracks, nothing beats booze for relieving stress.
>
I too had thought it absurd for the state to ration alcohol to soldiers, but when I consider the problems that arise without it...
>
I expect that rationing an appropriate amount could be a decent solution.
>
"So, you want to supply makgeolli to the soldiers to ease their burdens, even a little."
"Yes, my lord."
"I agree with your proposal. Since we can't give them wages, rationing a proper amount of alcohol seems like a good way to reduce their sense of pressure."
>
In life, everyone faces tough, grueling problems at times, but if you gather with close friends—or even just coworkers—for drinks and barbecue, belting out songs until you're hoarse, those knots in your heart loosen, and suddenly it feels bearable.
>
Conscripted soldiers have to endure harsh military life anyway, so if they shrug it off and share a drink with their comrades, cheering each other on, it would greatly help relieve built-up stress.
>
"I get that you want to supply makgeolli. But what's your plan for how to do it?"
"I plan to have my father-in-law's merchant guild handle the supply of makgeolli for the army."
>
Choi Yun-deok tilted his head at my words.
>
The guy proposing makgeolli rations as policy wasn't suggesting open bidding to select a supplier—he was recommending his own relative's business.
>
It definitely didn't look good.
>
Anyone would see it as a corrupt official-in-training trying to line his pockets by pushing his father-in-law.
>
In the 21st century, pulling something like this would mean instant dismissal—or jail time.
>
So, naturally, from the Minister of War's position, he had no choice but to suspect 'corruption.'
>
"Are you saying your father-in-law's merchant guild wants to supply the makgeolli for the army?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Anyone else, and... I don't think you're proposing this for personal gain, Kim, Inspector General. But I don't quite understand why you'd think of this. It seems more efficient to brew it in-house within the barracks or set up large state-run breweries, like the ironworks."
>
Even into the early 21st century, textbooks always taught it this way.
>
Even for a single head of cabbage, buying from a nearby big mart costs 5,000 won, but buying directly from a farmer who's grown and is selling it themselves gets it for 2,500 won.
>
The reason you can buy it at half price from the farmer is because no middlemen distributors are involved.
>
That's what we were taught...
>
In modern society, this principle often doesn't hold, but in Joseon, the fewer middlemen merchants involved, the cheaper the price inevitably becomes.
>
Because the costs from passing through multiple middlemen are huge.
>
Choi Yun-deok might not have fully grasped these commercial principles, but in any case, if run well, in-house production would indeed minimize expenses.
>
"Certainly, if the state builds large breweries to produce makgeolli for the soldiers, we could supply it without middlemen merchants or extra fees."
>
Transportation could be handed to the navy, and production costs would only include initial factory setup, labor, and grain as raw materials.
>
Plus, running state breweries means no need to chase profits...
>
Theoretically, with minimal costs, we could produce decent-quality makgeolli.
>
But here's the problem: that's all just theory.
>
"Can you be certain that the merchants supplying grain, and the clerks and underlings managing the brewery's accounts and operations, won't scheme behind the scenes?"
>
Choi Yun-deok lowered his head.
>
"Even among officials versed in the Four Books and Three Classics, corrupt ones occasionally emerge to squeeze the people's blood. How could we trust the clerks and underlings running the brewery, or the grain-supplying merchants?"
"If they set their minds to it, they have the ability to fool even my eyes and His Highness's. Just like the monks did with tribute goods before the Bangwon Law."
>
Ever since I personally proved the importance of commerce, the court has started paying attention to it.
>
Indeed, officials' understanding of commerce has deepened compared to before...
>
But coldly speaking, even generously, their knowledge has only risen from first-grade elementary level to early middle-school level.
>
Meanwhile, the merchants our court bureaucrats deal with are seasoned professionals hardened by years in trade.
>
If a professional faces off against a middle-schooler in a battle of expertise, who wins?
>
The professional, 100%.
>
Likewise, if merchants decide to run a full scam, we officials can only watch wide-eyed as it happens.
>
'A non-profit state-run enterprise is prime territory for embezzlement— that's a hard fact.'
>
"Once clerks and merchants collude for profit, the costs end up far higher than buying from a private brewery."
>
Both Choi Yun-deok and I had only mentioned clerks and underlings as representatives of officialdom...
>
But if the court created a fifth-rank office to produce makgeolli for soldiers and ran it as a state brewery...
>
We both knew full well it would become a hotbed of serious corruption, with merchants, clerks, and even low-paid officials joining forces.
>
"Trying to save a little money, only to waste far more. Yes, you make a good point."
"Thank you for understanding, my lord."
"Since it's a merchant guild handling state affairs, even if we don't assign full officials, shouldn't we at least have auditors from the offices?"
>
That's obvious.
>
They're taking on a national project entirely— if the state doesn't even audit it?
>
I don't see court budgets as free money; I view them all as the people's blood taxes, so I'd only take appropriate, good-faith profits.
>
But a profit-hungry merchant would exploit the lack of audits to scheme embezzlement day and night.
>
"Have officials from the Ministry of Finance, Ministry of War, and Office of Inspectors conduct audits. And one more thing: since we'll need to produce lots of weapons and uniforms going forward, how about entrusting all weapon production—excluding gunpowder weapons like matchlocks—to the workshops?"
"We can set prices based on the Military Armory's production costs and outsource to external workshops. And since these are state weapons, they'll have to meet corresponding standards."
"If we standardize weapons and uniforms from the start, that would be good. Repairs on damaged parts would be easier, and making new ones too."
>
With standardization, parts become interchangeable.
>
And mass production via division of labor gets simpler.
>
"That sounds good too. But I do have one concern."
"What is it, my lord?"
>
Choi Yun-deok looked at me with a serious expression.
>
"Do you really think no yangban will oppose replacing military service with taxes?"
"Who would dare oppose?"
>
Opposing would get their heads smashed—who would dare...
>
No, there are plenty of idiots beyond my imagination in this world, so some might oppose.
>
And Choi Yun-deok's concern became reality.