Making plans was easy; putting them into practice was another matter entirely, far harder to control.
Though Carmona was a dictator, he was also a successful one. Later generations gave him rather favorable assessments, so he was clearly no easy opponent.
In 1927, Carmona's military government had only just stepped onto history's stage and possessed no experience in governing. These generals could stir people's hearts and deliver blood-boiling speeches.
Yet they did not understand how to govern a country, how to resolve the difficulties facing the current government—least of all how to deal with the fiscal crisis that was about to bankrupt them.
Thanks to Ferdinand's butterfly effect, the Bulgarian model had become something the entire world sought to emulate. By the time it reached Portugal, it had been blended with fascist thought.
The Portuguese discovered that aggressively expansionist nationalism did not wholly suit them. They could not defeat neighboring Spain, so dreaming of opening new territory was nothing but a daydream. Nor did this ideology have any successful precedents. The Bulgarian path to rise, on the other hand, was worth studying and drawing from.
And so a neither-fish-nor-fowl hybrid emerged. None of that mattered, though. Whatever the system, once it reached Portugal, it could only switch into farming mode; vying for supremacy did not suit them.
When it came to fiscal matters, Carmona had nine of his ten openings clear—only the last one remained blocked.
To resolve the financial crisis, they had no concrete plan, only a vague notion: solicit donations from the public, and if that failed, borrow from international banks.
Not long ago, Portugal's Finance Minister, Sinel de Cordes, had applied to the League of Nations for a loan of twelve million pounds to restore Portugal's finances.
That proposal was still under review. Carmona's government was already