The Story of Running an Election in South America (2)
After the speech in Libertad, the campaign began in earnest. The civil registration drive had folded a massive number of unregistered outlaws into the citizenry, which meant the countryside's opinion now actually counted. That was how I ended up in a jeep, rattling toward mountain hamlets that barely registered on any map.
THUNK!
The jeep bucked hard as it slammed over another rut in the dirt road.
"Your Excellency, are you all right?"
"I'm fine. What about you, Isabella?"
"I have endured considerable hardship. This much is nothing."
"Hardship?"
"During my years with the SIA."
"Ah... right. What kind of work did you mostly do there?"
"Primarily intelligence collection and covert operations."
"That tracks."
They would never send an elite like Isabella into anything truly rough—
"I did occasionally assassinate anti-government figures as well, but that was rare enough that I would not call it real hardship."
So not never, then.
"...Sounds like you had it rough."
"Even so, the previous president regarded me favorably, and I was transferred to the presidential office quite quickly."
"I see."
Former President Juan might have actually gotten this one right. I had never been able to guess his reasoning at the time, but looking back, he had almost certainly earmarked Isabella and me as Ian's political partners. There was no other explanation for handing a cabinet ministry and the chief of staff's office to people as young as we were.
He wasn't a complete idiot, I'll give him that.
He just didn't have what it took to actually run a country.
I was nodding to myself when the bodyguard behind the wheel spoke up.
"We'll arrive in ten minutes, sir."
A moment later, a cluster of adobe houses came into view through the window, huddled together against the hillside.
The brakes screeched. Word of our visit must have preceded us, because the moment I stepped out of the jeep, the villagers came pouring in.
Old men, children, and women. That was all. It made sense — the young men would have gone off to earn wages at the highway sites.
"Thank you all for such a warm welcome."
"Y-Your Excellency! Oh, Your Excellency!"
I held out my hand to the old man at the front of the crowd, and he burst into tears on the spot. His hands were rough and deeply wrinkled, his face carved with furrows so deep he looked well past eighty.
"Hngh— Your Excellency, coming all the way out to this backwater! This old man's lifelong wish has been granted! I can die without a single regret!"
"You look perfectly healthy to me. Let's not talk about dying just yet. How old are you, sir?"
I patted his back and asked the question carefully.
"Sixty-three this year. An age where dying wouldn't surprise anyone."
"......?"
For a moment I thought I had misheard. Back in a Korean village, sixty-three was young enough they would still put you in charge of the youth association.
He looks way too old for that.
I looked at the village chief again, and understood.
He's just... been through too much.
A weight settled in my chest. All those numbers I had been congratulating myself over at the cabinet meeting a few days ago meant absolutely nothing here. A lifetime of backbreaking labor under a merciless sun, never eating anything with real nutrition — of course he had aged this fast. No money for a hospital even if you fell ill, and no hospital to go to in the first place. In the countryside, a long life was not a blessing. It was a luxury.
I got way too full of myself.
Standing in front of that old man's calloused hands, I felt infinitely small. The heaviness stayed with me the entire time I toured the village.
"Do you have electricity?"
"Not yet, Your Excellency."
"Running water?"
"We use the communal well. During the rainy season it comes out muddy, but if you let it settle, it's usable enough."
The outhouse was even worse. A pit dug in the earth, rotting timber posts, a scrap of matting for a partition — a pit latrine ripped straight out of 1980s rural Korea. And even that reeked to high heaven, thick with flies.
"Chief of Staff Isabella."
"Yes, Your Excellency."
"We launched the Saemaul Undong, and reality still hasn't caught up."
Isabella's expression turned awkward.
"It appears more time will be required, sir."
"......"
I bit down on my lip.
I need to work harder.
I gripped the village chief's hand firmly, as if making a vow.
"Sir, I give you my word. By the year after next at the latest, this village will have electricity and running water. I will build a clinic so you can see a doctor the moment you get sick. So you have to stay healthy until then."
"Your Excellency... sob! Thank you!"
Watching the village chief weep, I clenched my fist.
Carrying that heaviness with me, I visited a second village — a small settlement perched on a mountainside about an hour from the first. It was just as poor. The atmosphere, though, was strangely different.
"His Excellency has arrived!"
The moment I stepped out of the car, the villagers lined up along both sides of the road. That much I could understand.
Thud. Thud.
"......?!"
The people who saw me suddenly dropped to their knees. And not just kneeling — they pressed their palms together and bowed their heads to the dirt.
"O hero of the nation..."
"Eugene, who watches over us and holds us close..."
The murmuring was not the kind of thing you wanted to hear. Then the village chief led me into the center of the settlement, where I witnessed something that stopped me cold.
Right in the most visible spot, an altar had been set up. In the center of the candlelit shrine hung a framed photograph of me in a suit, and in front of it sat a stone statue whose features looked uncomfortably familiar.
"Is that... me?"
The village chief answered with unmistakable pride.
"Yes! Every morning and evening, our village offers water before Your Excellency and prays for your long life, for our village... and for the glory of San Marcos!"
"Why..."
"Ever since we enshrined Your Excellency's photograph, the epidemics vanished from our village and the harvests have been bountiful! There is even a household where someone dreamed of Your Excellency and woke up completely cured!"
"......"
I was speechless.
You've got to be kidding me.
Dismay flooded through me. The president of a democratic nation, turned into an object of folk worship. A chill ran down my spine as I met the eyes of people who had prayed with all their hearts to a photograph of me.
"...What's going on here?"
"They appear to be followers of Eugene-ism, Your Excellency."
"Eu... gene-ism?"
"Yes. An emerging religion spreading through the provinces. They worship Your Excellency as a god."
"No."
Why the hell am I the deity of a cult.
"Isabella."
"Yes, Your Excellency."
"Find a way to stamp out Eugene-ism. This cannot stand. I'm a politician, not a god."
I pulled her aside to say it, but she shook her head.
"That would... be difficult at present, sir."
"Why? A public announcement should do it."
"Even if we prohibit the worship of Your Excellency, there is no guarantee they would comply, and enforcement would be far from simple. Moreover, a misstep could produce any number of adverse effects."
"...I'm going to need you to explain that."
"For instance, even if we banned Eugene-ism, some other cult would fill the vacuum, and the resulting harm would be incalculable. Furthermore, citizens whose religion had been forbidden would almost certainly turn their anger on the government."
She wasn't wrong. Religion is hard to fall into and even harder to climb out of. Cults don't thrive for no reason.
I nodded, and Isabella offered a suggestion.
"It may be preferable to simply leave it be. If they are worshipping the nation's highest leader, one could regard it as political support rather than faith."
"Hmm... I suppose we don't have a choice. Leave it for now. But keep a close watch so it doesn't spread."
"Yes, understood."
Once the whole population's education level rose, the problem would fade on its own. Isabella was right — there was no need to kick a hornet's nest.
There was just one thing.
If I fail, their world collapses with me.
If I didn't want to let these people down, I had to produce a real miracle.
I might as well use this.
I nodded and clasped the village chief's hands.
"Chief. For those prayers to keep working, the villagers need to stay healthy. So from now on, I want you to look after everyone's well-being with extra care. If anyone falls ill, report it to the local outpost immediately and get them treated."
"I will keep that in mind, Your Excellency!"
One by one, I shook the hands of the village chief — who was weeping with emotion — and every last villager after him.
Eugene's next campaign stop turned out to be, of all places, a highway construction site. He had spotted it on the way to the next village and made the call on the spot.
KA-BOOM—
A massive blast sheared the waist of the mountain clean off. Pale dust boiled up in a cloud, and hundreds of machines roared to life inside it.
"Heave! Push!"
"Hey! Tie those rebar properly! You want an accident?!"
"Bring it over here! Move it, move it!"
Thousands of laborers swarmed like ants, hauling stone and packing earth. Sweat and soot caked their faces, but their eyes were alive. Most of them were poor country people who had found a new life at the jobs Eugene had created.
A convoy of black jeeps rolled into that fierce theater of labor. The vehicles stopped. The dust settled. A door opened, and Eugene stepped out.
"Huh?"
The site supervisor, who had been directing work nearby, rubbed his eyes. He had not imagined it. Eugene was striding into the rough construction site, brushing off his aides' attempts to stop him.
"Hah—!"
The supervisor nearly jumped out of his skin and came scrambling over.
"Y-Your Excellency! Without any notice, what brings you—"
"Sorry to interrupt your work, Supervisor."
Eugene smiled kindly and shook the man's hand.
"I was passing by and saw our people working this hard. I couldn't just drive on. While I'm here, I thought I might do a bit of campaigning — would it be all right to meet the workers for a moment?"
"O-of course! I'll assemble them immediately!"
The supervisor jammed a whistle between his teeth and blew with everything he had.
WHEEEEE—
"All work stop! One-hour break! Everyone over here!"
The foremen's shouts rang out, and the machinery fell silent. The workers, who had been murmuring about what was going on, went wide-eyed the instant they spotted Eugene.
"I-it's His Excellency!"
"His Excellency came all the way out here!"
"Whoa!"
They surged forward in a rush, and the bodyguards tensed, ready to hold them back. But Eugene raised a hand to wave them off and waded into the crowd of workers without hesitation.
"You've all been working hard."
He held out his hand to the laborer standing at the front, who panicked and stepped back.
"Y-Your Excellency... my hands are too filthy..."
"That's all right."
Eugene seized the burly man's hand and shook it firmly.
"These are the glorious marks of a man who worked for his country."
"Ah...!"
The man's eyes welled up. Eugene did not stop there. He met each man's gaze and shook every hand. The smell of sweat hung thick in the air and dust swirled around them, but he did not care in the slightest. Before long, a crowd of thousands had closed in around him.
Eugene looked around, then strode up onto a large boulder nearby.
"Everyone! You've been working yourselves to the bone! It's hard, isn't it?!"
At his shout, the noisy site went still as if doused in cold water — and then a thunderous roar erupted.
"WAAAAAAAH!!!"
"I came here today to bow my head to your labor!"
Eugene pointed to the road being carved out beneath his feet and raised his voice.
"The road you are carving with your blood and sweat is not just a road!"
The workers' eyes followed to the horizon at the far end of the grade he was pointing toward.
"It is the brilliant future of the nation your children will live in!"
His words set the workers' chests on fire.
"I promise you this. The blood and sweat you have shed will never be in vain!"
Eugene clenched his fist and roared.
When his speech ended, the site became a cauldron of pure fervor.
The eyes of the workers roaring his name were bright with a loyalty that asked no questions.