The Fuse

Ferdinand stopped the Cabinet's suicidal bill with an air of righteous indignation.

What a joke. Once they did it, they'd do it again. Bulgaria's fiscal deficit wasn't a few million leva, but hundreds of millions.

If they shifted all of it onto the peasants, Ferdinand could already picture countless ruined farmers rising up with pitchforks, launching a revolution and overthrowing the government.

As for falling out with the Cabinet over it, Ferdinand no longer had the luxury of caring. When caught between two evils, choose the lesser; compared with a peasant uprising, the Cabinet was clearly the softer target.

Ferdinand knew the Stam Cabinet fairly well. Politically, they were crude operators, practically novices. He had plenty of ways to deal with them.

After they left the palace, Finance Minister Michael said worriedly, "Prime Minister, the Grand Duke has vetoed the tax increase bill. What should we do?"

"What should we do? In that case, there's no need for us to be polite to him. We're the ones who put Ferdinand on the throne, after all. If it comes to it, we can replace him!" Interior Minister Jonas said angrily.

"What!" Everyone's expression changed.

Stam-Bolov said furiously, "God! Jonas, you idiot, shut your mouth! Don't talk nonsense. Do you think this is child's play, and we can replace him whenever we want? Are you trying to get us killed?"

Jonas, realizing he'd blundered, turned pale. He knew that if word of what had happened today got out, he was finished. The previous Grand Duke's troubles had only just passed, and Sofia had run red with blood. He looked to the others for help.

Wilson, who usually got along well with Jonas, stepped in to smooth things over. "Prime Minister, don't hold it against that idiot Jonas. What should we do next?"

Stam fell silent for a moment, then said, "Under Bulgarian law, we can still convene the National Assembly. As long as the Assembly passes it, surely the Grand Duke won't jump in and veto it again."

Everyone was taken aback, their expressions shifting, but in the end they nodded. They all knew that bypassing the king and pushing a bill through the Assembly directly was tantamount to reducing the king to a figurehead.

This Cabinet would never win Ferdinand's support again. From now on, trouble was bound to follow.

Just as Ferdinand had expected, the Stam Cabinet wasn't about to let the matter drop. After Ferdinand's veto, they convened the National Assembly.

They intended to use the Liberal Party's advantage in the National Assembly to force the tax increase bill through, while also undermining Ferdinand's authority.

On April 28, 1888, Bulgaria convened the National Assembly once more. Representing the Cabinet, Stam-Bolov submitted the Agricultural Tax Increase Act to Parliament.

Ferdinand had seen it coming, of course, and wasn't about to sit back and do nothing. Even before Parliament convened, word had already spread about his dispute with the Cabinet.

Would the opposition parties let the Stam Cabinet have its way now that they'd heard the news? Ferdinand didn't know.

One thing was certain, though: public opinion was already on his side. If the bill passed, the Cabinet would be cursed from here to kingdom come.

Knowing that Parliament would be a lively scene today, Ferdinand naturally chose not to attend. He'd stay out of sight and watch the show; if he stepped in himself, he'd only lower his own standing.

As he watched Parliament descend into a noisy uproar, Stam felt inexplicably irritated. Anyone who could rise from a shoemaker's son to prime minister of a nation was no fool.

The agricultural tax increase was bound to draw criticism, and he'd prepared for that in advance. For the sake of Bulgaria's industrialization, Stam didn't mind taking a few knocks.

But looking at the disorder in Parliament now, he began to wonder whether these people could really lead Bulgaria to prosperity.

Stam, who also served as Speaker, said angrily, "Order! Enough of this nonsense. Let's get straight to the vote!"

His move, however, provoked fierce discontent among the Conservative Party and the democratic representatives. Under normal procedure, a bill should be debated before it was put to a vote.

Stam, in a foul mood, had skipped that step entirely. After the bill was explained, he'd sent it straight to a vote, stripping them of their right to speak.

The furious Conservative Party lawmakers walked out of the vote in protest.

As expected, the Liberal Party held seven-tenths of the seats in Parliament, so passing the resolution should have been no problem.

Now that the Conservative Party, Parliament's largest opposition group, had simply withdrawn from the vote, surely the resolution would pass by a landslide?

The result was unexpected, and left the Conservative lawmakers regretting their decision. The resolution passed with 26 votes in favor, 55 abstentions, and 18 against.

The result left the Stam Cabinet in an awkward position. Were they really that unpopular? Their support was below thirty percent. If the Conservative Party hadn't walked out, the Liberal-controlled Parliament would have rejected their proposal that day.

A political struggle over the Cabinet was about to begin.

If Ferdinand had been there, he could have told Stam plainly that he was overthinking it.

Most Bulgarian lawmakers were young people who'd studied abroad, and idealistic youths like them were easily swayed by public opinion.

Besides, a large number came from families of feudal landowners. Their families would never tell them how their land had been acquired. When they heard about a tax increase, their first thought was that their own interests were at stake.

They opposed the proposal out of instinct, not because they truly resented the Cabinet.

When Ferdinand heard the result, he knew the Stam Cabinet was about to make a blunder. This might well be the fuse that set off the police state!

Since he couldn't stop them, Ferdinand would go with the flow and strive to maximize his gains.

At the very least, Ferdinand's intelligence network had already sprung into action. It had secretly acquired several newspapers, which were now rallying support for him.

Before anyone had time to react, they'd given his reputation a boost. At least in the eyes of most of the people, Ferdinand, who opposed extortionate taxation, was a benevolent king.

Ferdinand's gaze had now moved beyond Sofia, out across the vast countryside.

As early as the previous year, Ferdinand had sent people to the Austro-Hungarian Empire to hire agricultural experts, then ordered the Ministry of Agriculture to conduct a preliminary survey.

These experts had drawn up his agricultural development plan. To ensure it could be carried out smoothly, Ferdinand had even lowered the targets.

As far back as a thousand years ago, during the Warring States period, farmers had realized they could improve soil with fertilizer. Early farmers spread compost and animal manure over their fields.

In the nineteenth century, scientists discovered how vital nitrogen was. Farmers began buying sodium nitrate found in Chile's natural deposits and spreading it on their fields.

Yet Bulgarian agriculture as a whole still lagged behind the times. Fertilizer was used inefficiently, and yields per acre were less than two-thirds of those in Western Europe.

The irrigation system was an even bigger mess. Farmers relied almost entirely on the weather. If Bulgaria hadn't had such favorable climate and a sparse population, people would probably have struggled to put food on the table.

Ferdinand was no longer an impulsive boy, and he had no intention of solving everything at once. He planned to start with the easiest problems.

First, he had the agricultural experts draw up guidelines for the proper use of fertilizer. Then he handed them to the Ministry of Agriculture to distribute locally. He would show results first, then continue with more in-depth work.