Win the devotion of the people by taking the moral high ground.
Propaganda and rallies are all well and good, but people will only follow your movement to the bitter end if you give them the sense that they are morally in the right for doing so. Entice your followers with more than just the destruction of your enemies and oppressors. Speak to them of the ethics and principles of the movement, and the new society that will emerge in the end. Doing this creates a cause that is greater than any individual or group.
* * *
All across the city, bright protest signs displayed the same four words:
THE REVOLUTION IS HERE!!!
A strange energy flowed through the city. Every person felt it like a storm looming in the distance, gaining momentum. Even the most reserved citizens became acutely aware of those surrounding him or her in their day-to-day lives. Strangers on the street were no longer strangers; they were either a friend or an enemy of the revolution. And it was the job of each man and woman to deduce who was who, and with whom they would align themselves.
Nothing was gray. No one was in the middle. Nobody found themselves caught in the crossfire. Indifference was a luxury they could no longer afford. The objective of the citizens of the city changed completely, from a focus of "I", to a focus of "we". Any person on the street knew exactly whom they spoke of when they spoke of themselves as "we".
Only a handful of people had trouble with this identity, and they did not have this trouble for long.
Jacobin was a word that originated much like any other unfamiliar term. It is not remembered the first or even the second time someone hears it. One doesn't remember who said it, what it meant, in what context it was used, or how the term applies to oneself in any way, shape, or form. Not until the third or fourth time does the word begin to register a sort of distant meaning, a new term in the vernacular that may or may not come up in casual conversation. Within a very short time, however, the word is on the lips of friends, neighbors, coworkers, enemies, and especially the media. The word surrounds you. It becomes a mob or a stampede that you must learn and understand, so that you may be caught up in it, and not trampled by it.
No one knew where the name originated, or where they first heard it, but within a week, everyone knew, and formed strong opinions, about a faction of the General Assembly called the Jacobins. Strongly in favor of the College, and strongly opposed to violence of any kind, the people of the city found themselves drawn to this movement.
The General Assembly found itself under the leadership of Dorian. Almost daily, he spoke of retribution, and of a glorious attack against the oppressors within the Council.
He spoke of overthrowing the landowners, and taking everything from them. The Jacobins' message was just as revolutionary, but the means were different. They abhorred violence of any kind and spoke of the College as having a place in the future government.
Still, the Jacobins did not have a plan to make this a reality. They opposed violent tactics but had no tactics to offer as an alternative. For this reason, more and more people found themselves drawn to the General Assembly.
And Bryan watched all of it from the front lines.
Use bold moves and tactics when confronting a much larger entity.
Since a rebellion will likely be small in its inception, there is little to be gained in small demands, but little to lose and much to gain in bold actions. Do not confuse boldness with recklessness. Coordinate actions that will show the dictator that the movement deserves to be taken seriously.
* * *
Bryan looked around Dr. Sheridan's office. He had many fond memories of it. She'd been with both him and Matt since the very beginning, and Bryan remembered being in the office at a very young age. She sat at her desk, taking one last look through the documents on her desk. Bryan moved to the window and looked outside. The view was wonderful, the courtyards and the beautiful buildings of the College with the city just on the opposite side of the road.
"If the Jacobins had a plan," said Bryan, "We'd be the ones gaining momentum. Right now, the General Assembly is gaining in numbers and support. Their solution is more immediate, and frankly, it feels better to the people in this city."
"That's the nature of things, my dear," said Dr. Sheridan, not looking up from the documents, "People want quick fixes, not long-term solutions."
"It's been driving me crazy. There must be a way to take away the government's power without resorting to violence."
Finally, Dr. Sheridan took off her glasses and looked up at Bryan.
"How are things with you and Marie?" The question took Bryan by surprise.
"Fine. Why?"
She chuckled, "Because there's more to life than just politics, my dear. What's the point of making a new world if you can't enjoy it from time to time?"
Bryan had to laugh at this. He sat down, still looking out the window.
"Things have been great. We see each other every chance we get. I love that it
really doesn't matter what's going on, we can still have fun together." Sheridan pointed at him.
"That's a good thing. Don't ever forget that. What about Matt? Is he seeing anyone?"
Bryan shook his head.
"The only thing he thinks about is the revolution. He's married to the city and the people."
Both of them had a hearty laugh at this.
"I do wish Matt stuck around the College for just a little longer than he did," Bryan said, looking out the window, "He's a lot like me, you know. He'd be great if he went into Law."
Dr. Sheridan nodded.
"Your brother is already doing pretty well for himself, all things considered. The
College is all well and good, but it isn't imperative to make it out there."
"That's true," said Bryan, "And Matt's always been a lot more stubborn than me, and probably a lot stronger too."
Dr. Sheridan set the papers down and took off her glasses.
"Oh Bryan, it has nothing to do with strength," she said with a compassionate look, "The city is ruled by more than just laws, and the College is more than just a school. We're in the business of people, giving them help when they need it. Some just need more than others."
She handed one of the documents to him.
"That's also why I think you're going to like this resolution."
"Resolution?" Bryan asked excitedly, "This is part of the new Constitution you've been working on, isn’t it?"
She just smiled and shrugged her shoulders. Bryan looked down at the paper and read quickly.
SECTION 1:
ADENDEM 15:
MANY DEPEND ON THE SERVICES PROVIDED BY THE COLLEGE,
WHICH INCLUDE, BUT ARE NOT LIMITED TO, EDUCATION, HOUSING, RELIGIOUS SERVICES, PUBLIC REPRESENTATION IN A COURT OF LAW,
AND A VARIETY OF MEDICAL ATTENTION. FOR THIS REASON, THE
COLLEGE SHALL STAND AS AN INCREMENTAL PART OF COUNCIL
PROCEEDINGS AND, IN EXCHANGE, BE COMPENSATED ADAQUETLY BY
THE COUNCIL TREASURY FOR FUTURE GENERATIONS. THIS RIGHT SHALL NOT BE INFRINGED.
Bryan felt thrilled when he read it. This meant that the College would remain within the city for years to come. Homeless kids, like him and Matt had once been, would always have a place to go to be cared for and educated.
He looked up at Dr. Sheridan who watched him with an expectant smile.
"Most excellent, as always, Doctor," he said, in the most proper voice he could manage. She laughed happily.
They stayed in her office for several more hours, talking, drinking tea, and fantasizing about the future. When it began to get dark, rain pattered against the window. Bryan got up and looked outside. The street was already becoming wet with rainwater, and pedestrians hurried to reach their destination.
"I should go," said Bryan, "I'm sure Matt's waiting for me at the apartment. Hopefully, they don't shut off our heat."
"If they do, just come right back. You're always welcome here." She hugged Bryan and halted quickly as she remembered.
"Before you go," she turned, picked up a binder, and handed it to Bryan, "Bring this to the Jacobins. It's the first draft, and I'd like their input."
"I will," said Bryan with a smile. They hugged one more time, and he was on his way, down through the dark hallways of the College. He walked the halls alone until he became aware of a man standing in the frame of one of the offices.
"Mr. Creed," he said, and beckoned him to his direction.
Bryan approached him, hesitantly. The man turned and entered the office, as he got close, and held the door open. When he entered, another man stood behind the desk. He had jet-black hair that matched his suit and looked at Bryan intently as he entered. The man who beckoned him went to the desk as well. He was much older and wore simple formal clothing with a blazer, typical clothing for College professors.
"Have a seat, please," said the professor.
Bryan sat, holding his bag close. It contained the binder with a copy of the new Constitution, and he wasn't about to show it to anyone. The office was spacious and had a window with a view of the river. Seeing this somehow made Bryan feel even colder.
"We've heard great things about you, Mr. Creed," said the Professor, "Dr. Sheridan can't stop talking about you. In fact, you have drawn so much attention, that Mr.
Danielson here has an offer for you from the city's High Court."
The man in the black suit removed a piece of paper from his briefcase. Without a word, he slid it across the desk for Bryan to see.