The Independent Forenian
For the people, by the people.
Exclusive Feature: Socialism Underground by Amir Alwaqie
Two months ago, the Forenian Socialist Party made headlines by going underground, both figuratively and literally, causing a more moderate branch to split off to form the Forenian Worker's Party (FWP), which still remains politically active. In the immediate aftermath of the split, almost all FSP Members of Parliament switched to supporting the FWP, with only one holdout refusing to do so and remaining neutral, though voting with FWP interests anyway. Today, the Forenian Socialist Party is nowhere to be found on the streets and many wonder what became of them. Our intrepid Independent Reporter Alwaqie, however, managed to contact some FSP members and arrange for an interview with them. This is his account.
The route to the Socialist Party's warrens begin, as many correctly suspect, in the abandoned tunnels that worm their way under our capital's busy harbour. The Socialist accompanying me, a young woman by the name of Alinova, leads me from the basement of a disused warehouse through a maze of twisty little passages with only a small lantern, and I estimate that we have gone nearly a mile in the darkness before she stops next to a brick wall at an intersection.
She knocks on and whispers something to the cracks in the bricks, to be replied by a mechanical grinding noise, along with the wall sliding aside. On the other side is a bored-looking young man lounging in a chair, and next to him a lever and an intricate mess of gears that opens the entrance. This part of tunnels is clearly inhabited; dotted with electric lightbulbs and the odd wall-painted mural depicting socialist utopia and the FSP flag, it is not an altogether unpleasant place to live. There is no disguising the rather pungent aroma of sea salt and fish, though. Or perhaps that is salted fish?
We continue down a few more lit tunnels, before she opens a door into an office. It is rather small and spartan, with only the barest minimums of a table, two chairs and a closet. It is the man behind the desk I am here to see, though - average of height and build, he is physically unassuming but the steel in his eyes gives me a glimpse of the Socialist leader's iron will. Equally intimidating are the two bodyguards who occupy most of the remaining space in the room.
He introduces himself as Kazimierz, a name which I do not recall to be among the FSP leaders. Nevertheless, I press on with my questions.
"How did the FSP construct this underground hideout in only two months?"
He chuckles. "Never underestimate what the workers can do, when freed of the shackles of capital. We are industrious, and nothing is more inspiring than the socialist ideals we work toward. I will tell you, you have not even seen a tenth of our base here. Unfortunately, you cannot be allowed to see the rest, not without joining us."
I politely decline. "What is your opinion of the Forenian Worker's Party, which has de facto taken over the FSP in Parliament under the leadership of Engineer Mulisakova?"
"Brave men, the lot of them, and that engineer too. Brave, but foolish. We know which way the wind is blowing, and let me tell you, there won't be a Parliament much longer. Can't trust the NFPP, they're all fascist scum. I would urge Mulisakova not to listen to their honeyed lies, and watch his back for betrayal if he does".
I diplomatically refrain from pointing out that there is no wind in the tunnels. "Are you aware that Engineer Mulisakova has referred to the FSP as "sewer hermits"?"
His face twists. "You've seen for yourself, what we've got going on down here. Hardly a sewer, in any sense. And to him I say, better a sewer than an unmarked grave."
Again, I diplomatically refrain from pointing out that my sense of smell cannot tell the difference. Instead, I ask, "What is your opinion of the government signing the Anti-Comintern Pact, and the sharing of the RPG-28A design with the Wehrmacht?"
Unfortunately, his reply cannot be printed word-for-word to avoid offending our readers' sensibilities, but needless to say the impression I had was that he did not approve of it at all. It took him a few minutes to compose himself, during which I noted some interesting aspects of the room, such as that the door appeared to be entirely made of stone, as was his chair. The next, and last question I was able to ask was "Is the FSP going to hide down here indefinitely?"
"We are not hiding!" he insists. "Merely... biding our time. We've got plenty of food and drink, we're expanding and fortifying the place day by day, and we're making progress on farming down here as well." I begin to wonder what exactly one can grow underground without sunlight, before his next sentence catches me off-guard. "And we're not just focused on surviving, either. We're working on building new things too. Tell that to the fascists."
With that enigmatic statement, he gestures to his bodyguards to escort me out of his office, where Alinova is waiting to lead me back to the surface world. The walk back to the movable wall and through the tunnels passes quickly, and before long I am blinking as my eyes acclimatise to the sunlit surroundings again. She quickly turns back down the stairs into the basement, and the only evidence I have left of my foray into the Socialists' den are the three pages of scribbled shorthand replies that I have jotted down in my notebook.
One thing is for sure, my readers, the FSP did not vanish like the proverbial morning dew, as many think. Nor does it seem that they plan to do so, or go quietly should the government find means and motive to evict them from their subterranean lair. One can only wonder: what exactly is it that they are doing down in the dark? And how will the government respond to their thinly-veiled threat? Only time will tell.
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