Hitting the Wrong Target

On April 30, 1847, Archduke Charles, a great military strategist of his age, died suddenly in Vienna. His death also marked the end of an era.

Archduke Charles's funeral was a grand affair. Franz's uncle, Ferdinand I, came in person to attend the farewell ceremony, and all the great noble houses of Europe sent representatives.

Franz was in a terrible mood. Even after being reborn, he still couldn't face life and death with equanimity.

Even though he had inherited Archduke Charles's military legacy, Franz was in no mood to celebrate. People weren't made of grass or wood—how could they be without feelings? And yet, as the emperor-in-waiting, he couldn't afford to feel too much.

"Your Highness, Mr. Baunfeld from the newspaper office requests an audience!" the maid Jenny said softly.

Franz was somewhat puzzled by the unexpected visitor. As far as he knew, there was nothing major at the newspaper office that required his personal attention. He then said, "Show him in!"

"Your Highness, something terrible has happened!" Baunfeld said anxiously.

"Go on. The sky hasn't fallen yet," Franz said calmly.

Austria enforced a press censorship system, with government officials stationed at newspaper offices to review their content. Franz didn't think anything serious could have happened.

Could the newspaper staff have dared to print banned papers on their own? If so, Franz wouldn't mind cleaning house.

Was it a case of rivals targeting them?

At worst, it was just commercial competition. He didn't think anyone would dare break the rules!

Baunfeld explained, "Recently, some newspapers have been calling for a Labor Protection Act, and we joined in."

"Go on. I don't see anything wrong with that," Franz said indifferently.

Baunfeld studied Franz's expression, then said nervously, "We became one of the leading voices in this campaign. To get more people to pay attention to the lives of the lower classes, we also published a series of reports."

"Spit it out already. Why are you hemming and hawing? It's already happened. Are you still afraid to say it?" Franz scolded, frowning.

He hated people who only told half the story, stopping just as they got to the important part.

"Our newspaper's editors drew up a petition based on the information they'd gathered, proposing that capitalists provide workers with a range of protections. We didn't expect the government to take it seriously. It may even become law!" Baunfeld said, looking terrified.

Franz understood what he was worried about. Everyone was used to newspapers making empty slogans, and being a little radical wasn't a problem. But once those words became reality, that was another matter.

When the capitalists learned that the Labor Protection Act had been drafted by the "We Want Bread, We Want Cheese" newspaper, Baunfeld, as its editor-in-chief, would be done for.

And it wouldn't just be him. Every employee at the newspaper, from the senior staff to the junior ones, would probably suffer for it. Franz, the big boss behind the scenes, might even get caught in the crossfire.

Franz couldn't help feeling helpless about the whole thing. Could he really say that his subordinates had done it and he had nothing to do with it?

As the Crown Prince of Austria, could he really kowtow to the bourgeoisie? What was he supposed to do now? Other than grit his teeth and press ahead, he had no choice.

"Bring me the petition you drafted. Don't tell me you didn't bring it with you!" Franz said, displeased.

He didn't blame Baunfeld. The newspaper hadn't done anything wrong. Without knowing the ins and outs of the political struggle, its staff had published reports that were entirely in keeping with Franz's vision for the paper.

"I brought it, Your Highness. Please take a look," Baunfeld said nervously.

Franz was now his only support. Even if the Crown Prince himself stepped forward to challenge the bourgeoisie, with the nobility behind him, the chances of losing were slim.

Once the big shots entered the fray, little fish like them would be overlooked. And when it was all over, the victors wouldn't be punished.

Franz picked up the document and skimmed it. The more he read, the more familiar it seemed. Wasn't this just a version of the "996" work schedule?

Ten hours of work each day, with two hours for meals and breaks; one paid day off each week; a government-set minimum wage; no arbitrary wage deductions or dismissals; and factories taking responsibility for workplace injuries.

Franz didn't think there was anything wrong with the petition. If European capitalists of a later age saw these standards, they'd be grinning in their sleep.

Franz said with conviction, "Mr. Baunfeld, you and your staff did nothing wrong. You don't need to worry about what happens next. I'll find a way to handle it. The newspaper office is right next to the police station. I'll have a word with them!"

Hearing Franz's words, Baunfeld finally breathed a sigh of relief. If the boss was willing to step in, then things would be all right.

Capitalists weren't fools. Unless they had to, none of them wanted to stick their necks out. Franz might be wary of the entire bourgeoisie, but dealing with one or two capitalists wouldn't be a problem.

"Your Highness, should we keep reporting on this?" Baunfeld asked hesitantly.

"Of course you should, but be careful not to overdo it. Don't provoke the capitalists too much, or you might invite unnecessary trouble," Franz said after a moment's thought.

Changing sides was the worst thing they could do. Since they'd already offended the bourgeoisie, they might as well see it through. At least they could win the support of ordinary people.

Trying to play both sides was truly foolish. Anyone hoping to please both camps would end up pleasing neither.

They weren't the only newspaper in Vienna supporting a Labor Protection Act. The conservatives had already begun to make their move, and Austrian public opinion generally sympathized with the workers.

"Yes, Your Highness!" Baunfeld replied.

After sending Baunfeld away, Franz began considering how to deal with the aftermath. Usually, if you wanted to bury one topic, you created an even more sensational one.

What kind of topic could draw the bourgeoisie's attention? Without a doubt, the hottest issue at the moment was still the Labor Protection Act.

For example, they could shorten the ten-hour workday even further, counting workers' meal and rest breaks as part of their hours.

Or they could increase the penalties for workplace injuries, or even set a minimum wage high enough to make the capitalists wince.

In short, as long as the Labor Protection Act the government ultimately passed went further than the petition, everyone's attention would shift.

The chances of the capitalists taking their anger out on the newspaper would also drop to a minimum.

At that thought, Franz smiled with satisfaction. They already had someone to take the heat. Now that Archduke Louis had proposed a Labor Protection Act on behalf of the nobility, Prime Minister Metternich couldn't afford to sit idle if he didn't want to be replaced.