Panic and War #1
"Comrade Secretary-General, is it true you're really planning to take that young foreign girl as a concubine?"
"No, it's not."
"Taking a concubine before even getting a proper wife."
"I said it's not true."
"Early marriage is a backward custom. You said it yourself, didn't you? At least wait until they're fifteen before marrying them off!"
"You're not listening to me."
If they keep this up, I'll have to turn into the Joker, Murray.
I temporarily adjourned this not-quite-inquiry from the women comrades and retreated to my room.
"Ok-gyun, got nothing to say?"
"Why not reflect first on why accepting one exchange student at school has led to all this? That might be a good start."
Hmm.
I was pretty openly lecherous in my youth, sure.
"Because I'm not married?"
"Why don't you just get married?"
"That's the problem."
Ok-gyun came back from Persia without a word to me, bringing along the Shah's niece as some kind of "exchange student." But everyone knew what it really was—a hostage. The Shah sent her to the Khan as a token of goodwill, figuring it would at least keep the Khan from getting too pissed. Sadly for the Shah, the Khan was pissed anyway. Who the hell does he think I am?
"Wasn't she pretty?"
"It's not about prettiness."
To a guy in his thirties like me, that girl thirty years younger was just a kid. Sending a kid like that to a far-off foreign land? I've been there myself as a child, and let me tell you, it's no way to treat a human being.
"But this is a legitimate question. You've never married, Your Excellency, and now you've brought back a girl from abroad, haven't you?"
"I didn't bring her."
"Do they care about that?"
"Hold on—why are you dumping the blame on me for something you did on your own?"
"I brought her, sure, but as an exchange student. Any rumors like that are entirely due to Your Excellency's own behavior. Unmarried in your thirties? Come on."
"What's wrong with being unmarried?"
"In crude terms, it's like saying you'll sample every bitch out there."
"No wife means no one to keep you in check?"
"Isn't that right?"
"Hmm, can't argue with that. Damn, you've got a point."
We reject marriage as an institution, aiming to phase it out gradually, but no one disputes that a wife reins in her husband's wandering eye. If wives can't do that, men's resources get funneled to just the prettiest, youngest women, leaving the rest pissed off. Even in the most equal commune, that's unavoidable. No matter how much I push women into jobs, once they get a taste, most just want to stay home raising kids. Our service sector—easy on the body, high-paying—hasn't developed much, and with village-wide communal childcare, raising kids isn't that hard anyway.
"But from my perspective, I want to tell the women comrades that you can't have both the perks of monogamy and the liberation of communal childcare long-term. Communicating that effectively is damn tough."
I feel like a doctor delivering a terminal diagnosis.
"You still think having both is impossible, even now?"
"Right now, it looks like it works because I'm forcing it through with an iron fist, but that's only possible with me. Any ordinary political body couldn't pull it off."
"Which men would shoulder monogamy while also joining communal childcare? Rights come with duties. Even if I tilt the scales with my finger, equilibrium will eventually balance out."
Long-term, either men stop marrying and supporting women, or those investing time and money in communal childcare vanish. Maybe the backlash from my meddling so far means more men opt out of both. But that's a problem for after I'm gone. As someone fully intent on dismantling this mutual slave contract called marriage first, it's no issue at all. Even if women comrades flee the workplace, they'll still have to go out and self-exploit under my directives. A few men ignoring them won't change much.
I worried about women comrades begging for scraps without marriage, not about them missing out on cozy monogamous perks under it.
"The problem is this: if I get married here, it becomes the standard. Questioning the institution itself gets harder."
A married slave can't easily criticize slavery. A married man saying marriage is broken? People would just think, "His wife's nagging must be unbearable." Like the class dunce complaining about the grading system.
"Anyway, no marriage. Why not just tell me to become the plantation owner of the slave farm outright? At least that's not slavery."
"Marriage really rubs you the wrong way, huh."
"You think watching married folks with pity makes me want to join them? It's like telling an atheist who tolerates theists to become one."
Utter nonsense.
"Scream all they want. Do I give a damn?"
If I caved to every screech from the women comrades and became a married man, I couldn't have stared down Britain and America in a pissing contest.
"But the women comrades seem genuinely worried a foreigner might become First Lady."
"What?"
Wait, that's a different angle.
"Well, the Supreme Leader was known as a womanizer in Japan, but after coming to Joseon, he stopped completely. Now he's bringing in a young foreigner?"
"Hold on, you're joking, right?"
That's why they're freaking out? Seriously, don't fuck with me. There's only one reason they're losing their shit: protecting their vested interests. They want the scales I hold down to stay that way—monogamy plus communal childcare coexisting. It's not about marrying a foreigner per se. I've never indoctrinated them that way, and I've never planned to marry one.
Returning to the meeting, I faced comrades suggesting I take a concubine first, then make the foreigner one instead. My world crumbled.
For Japan, short on iron, rubber, and oil—all lifelines—it was essential to secure them. Right now, Korea just hands over iron, rubber, and oil, but without equity stakes, long-term security was iffy. Especially rubber and oil.
"Lend us some money?"
"Huh? Me?"
"We want to invest in Southeast Asia for oil and rubber—especially Indonesia and Thailand."
Japan, who'd cracked open their piggy bank selling off Japan Silver to flood the market with goods, was cash-poor despite the abundance.
"Setting up your own trading partners?"
"Yes."
"Hmm, okay."
The Supreme Leader figured indirect oil via Japan was fine, and with long-term occupation ahead, loosening the purse strings made sense. He lavishly released gold and silver to Japan.
"Gold, really?!"
"Honestly, from now on, black gold's worth more than yellow."
Gold was precious, but if trading it for oil fields was an option, he'd take the fields. Astonishingly, Japan pried gold from Britain—who'd been salting it away—merely by promising Southeast Asian oil investments.
Japan, dazed by the Supreme Leader's extravagance, dove into Southeast Asia. They craved self-sufficiency in oil and rubber. The Dutch were shocked by the gold influx, even more so that it came from the Supreme Leader's wallet, but they accepted the investments. Korea had approved it anyway—whatever Japan said, it counted as a Korean proposal.
Thus, the 1910 Armenian massacres ignited in Adana, the Supreme Leader's Arab expulsion in Sudan stole the spotlight, freaking him out enough to douse the flames—then Persian Gulf oil erupted again. Five times bigger. Britain grinned ear to ear.
The problem? The Dutch couldn't laugh. East Asian oil fields were Britain's Persian Gulf and the Dutch's Southeast Asia. Recent Japanese investments had expanded their share, so losses were massive.
Japan? Screwed.
Borrowed money for investments, and barely after, the businesses faced crisis. Executives get bonuses even in bankruptcy; investors don't.
"No matter how I think about it, we should've invested in the distant Persian Gulf, not nearby Southeast Asia."
But regret's always late. Japan tearfully exited Southeast Asia. They might've held if not for borrowed funds—and because the Supreme Leader said, "If that's what you want, go ahead."
This Japanese exit was the knockout blow to an already crisis-hit Southeast Asia.
"Hold on tight!!!"
Coffee to Taiwan, rubber to Korea, oil to Persia—Southeast Asia had nothing left. Long-term growth maybe, but not now.
The Southeast Asian economic crisis engulfed the world.
CDOs traded best not in Paris, Berlin, Vienna, or London—but Amsterdam, Netherlands' financial hub, city of swindlers and whores.
And now, that hub was in panic.
Not an east wind—a southeast gale.
"CDS prices jumped tenfold!"
"Why are real estate prices crashing?! What the hell?!"
CDOs had sold flawlessly. As they kept flying off shelves, gold-holding rich folks dumped gold for CDOs. Governments printed more money from that gold, issuing more CDOs. Perfect virtuous cycle. Until now.
But with the Southeast crisis halting the economy, some nobody from the far east withdrew a ton of gold, turning virtue to vice.
Everyone rushed to pull gold; CDOs stopped selling; banks squeezed landlords; landlords dumped properties.
If that ended it, lucky them.
"No more gold."
"What?"
Prolonged redemptions forced governments and banks to refuse them. Governments had long lost redemption capacity amid boom-time money-printing, bluffing with currency swaps. But massive withdrawals shattered that; swaps failed, so they shut doors with excuses.
Under gold standard, inflation-stoking real estate stimulus was doomed to this. Only conservative Britain muttered, "Knew it."
The world plunged from boom back to bust.