I Became A Hidden Powerhouse Of The British Empire [EN]: Chapter 96

The Guardian Deity of Ireland (2)

If one were to identify a crucial virtue for a politician, it would undoubtedly be the ability to win over the public.

And among the various methods, few are as effective as evoking ’empathy’ to resonate with the hearts of the masses.

Having conducted preliminary research, it became clear that the Irish people held Queen Victoria in high regard.

Perhaps they saw her as a young and progressive queen, leading them to believe she would treat them fairly.

Frankly, my intention in showcasing her consumption of rutabaga wasn’t solely to promote alternative crops but also to elevate the royal family’s public image.

Why do contemporary politicians participate in ‘mukbang’ [eating broadcast] tours of traditional markets during campaigns?

It’s to wholeheartedly convey the message that they care about the lives of ordinary people and are there to support them.

While many view this with cynicism, it’s undeniable that it remains an effective strategy even in the 21st century.

This is because people are inherently drawn to things that stimulate their emotions.

And having been involved in politics, I’m beginning to believe that it shouldn’t necessarily be dismissed as mere deception.

Of course, if one engages in blatant lies and deceit without taking action, it’s undoubtedly a form of deception. However, if one is sincere and diligent, they can genuinely experience the feelings of ordinary people through the process.

That was precisely the case with Queen Victoria’s rutabaga mukbang preparation, which was so appreciated that it fostered genuine affection.

“Your Majesty, I can see the coastline over there. We should be arriving in southern Ireland shortly.”

“…Hoo, that’s a relief. Secretary, does my facial expression appear strained right now?”

“You look as elegant and beautiful as always.”

“Finally, I’ve reached the point where my face doesn’t contort from eating this devil’s food. I’m quite pleased.”

In Victoria’s eyes, as she gazed at the green cliffs dramatically emerging from the sea, there was no trace of excitement about sightseeing.

It was a stark contrast to her initial enthusiasm when the ship departed from London.

She let out a soft sigh as she briefly glanced at the distant fields and scattered small houses.

“If that potato blight spreads, how many years will the Irish people have to rely on rutabaga?”

“We should anticipate at least three years, at a minimum. Of course, they won’t be exclusively consuming rutabaga. Thanks to the Corn Laws [tariffs on imported grain], the price of wheat has also decreased, and we’re preparing relief food, allowing us to make appropriate adjustments.”

“Even so, that means they’ll have to eat it consistently for three years. Goodness… to endure something like that for three years.”

“It might have been slightly better if they had cooked it or added sauce, but the shock was probably amplified because you consumed it in such a plain state.”

How could one form positive impressions when consuming an already unappetizing food in the most unappetizing manner?

Actually, I recall reading that rutabaga can be quite palatable when prepared as kimchi [Korean fermented cabbage], but the feasibility of making kimchi here is practically nonexistent, rendering it irrelevant.

Even if kimchi is out of the question, there were numerous ways to make rutabaga less unappetizing, if not delicious.

However, Victoria rejected all those methods, insisting on eating rutabaga in its natural state, mirroring how the Irish people would consume it during the Great Famine.

Considering only the promotional impact, it was the optimal approach, but frankly, I anticipated her giving up after a few bites.

No, even before that, I repeatedly emphasized that it wasn’t necessary to go to such extremes.

I also kept eating it, but still, is it appropriate to keep feeding this to the queen, of all people?

I couldn’t help but wonder if Killian Gore would be remembered in history as the man who force-fed rutabaga to the queen for political gain.

In many ways, it’s safe to say that he’s destined to be remembered in history as a truly remarkable person.

Still, Victoria was surprisingly steadfast in her commitments.

She declared that she would be able to eat rutabaga without flinching before arriving in Ireland, and today…

Before the royal ship reached Cobh Harbor, she finally reached the point where she could finish rutabaga without losing her dignified smile.

Pow, pow, pow!

Soon, as the queen’s ship entered the harbor, the sound of cannons erupted from the shore, accompanied by a thunderous salute, and a band that had been waiting in anticipation began to play “God Save the Queen.”

“Your Majesty, it is an honor to welcome you to Ireland!”

“Thank you for your warm reception. I also feel a sense of excitement being able to meet you all in a place other than London.”

“You’ve been sailing for a long time, so it seems like you should rest well at your accommodation today and commence the official schedule from tomorrow.”

“Thank you for your consideration. Then I’ll return to my accommodation. Chief Secretary, please engage in further discussions with the Minister and inform me if you require anything.”

As Victoria disappeared into the distance amidst the enthusiastic welcome of the people, Chief Secretary Earl Jerman, who had arrived in Ireland earlier to coordinate the local schedule, approached me and spoke.

“Minister, you’ve worked diligently to come such a long way.”

“It’s quite alright. Compared to traveling back and forth to Qing China [historical name for China], this is like taking a stroll in the front yard.”

“Hahaha, now that I think about it, that’s quite true. You’re the one who’s traveled almost entirely around the Earth by ship.”

“By the way, has there been any change in the schedule starting tomorrow?”

“Not yet. Local clergy and authorities, magistrates, and town criers will attend in large numbers. The Minister and Her Majesty the Queen will deliver speeches there.”

Initially, Earl Jerman planned to have us tour only affluent areas and filled the schedule with events that were almost identical to regular royal excursions.

He intended to enjoy tea time with the Irish upper-class nobles, host balls in Dublin and Belfast, utter a few pleasantries, and then sail back, calling it a plan.

Why are the aristocratic classes of this era so detached from reality?

Did they genuinely believe that if they held such an event and departed, the citizens would be moved to tears, proclaiming the British royal family as noble?

Anyway, after I assumed full authority, I naturally instructed them to eliminate all these absurd events and create an environment where they could engage with the local people.

I’m glad I actively intervened in the meeting from the outset; otherwise, I would have traveled all the way to Ireland only to dance with Victoria before returning.

But now that I reflect on it, it wasn’t necessarily detrimental that so many politicians lacked a sense of reality.

Originally, everything in the world is relative, so the worse they are, the more we can stand out.

“Chief Secretary, please continue to work diligently. Then I’ll review the schedule one more time with the group I came with and go in. O’Connell, let’s go.”

“Ah, ah. Right. What did you say? Is it already time?”

“We need to review the speech one last time for tomorrow. Isn’t it an important occasion?”

“Ah, right. Sorry. I was spacing out for a moment and didn’t hear what you two were saying.”

The Queen of Great Britain, of all people, has set foot on this land for Ireland.

It was no wonder that O’Connell, who had dedicated his life to Ireland, was overwhelmed with emotion.

He shook his head for a long time, gazing at the place where Victoria’s carriage had departed, and then followed me.

* * *

“I offer my greetings on behalf of the village! We are truly grateful that you have come so far for us, Your Majesty!”

“We thank you on behalf of our church. God will also be greatly pleased with Your Majesty’s mercy.”

The people who filled the vast garden each took turns expressing their gratitude and bowed deeply.

What I paid particular attention to during this trip to Ireland was ensuring that the news from here would spread to every corner of Ireland without distortion.

To ensure that all of Ireland knew precisely what speech the Queen had delivered and what instructions I had given, it was necessary to gather as many sources as possible.

In present-day Ireland, the postal system is not yet fully established, and there are many areas where the administrative system is lacking.

Therefore, most regions still exchange information through word of mouth or written notifications from the authorities.

And with such poor infrastructure, people are naturally heavily influenced by the church and clergy.

Since there are many Catholics in Ireland, special care is needed in dealing with Catholic bishops.

Earl Jerman suggested that we shouldn’t invite Catholic bishops because the national religion is Anglican, but I lightly dismissed his words and gathered all the Catholic bishops as well.

Since Victoria already enjoys a positive image in England, it’s sufficient to promote that the Queen has demonstrated this much tolerance to save people’s lives.

The Irish Catholic officials, who anticipated being neglected, were sincerely moved by this decision and showered lavish praise on the Queen for her compassion for Ireland and on me for persuading her.

Now that I think about it, wasn’t Earl Jerman a discriminator?

It seems like doing the opposite of what that human being suggests has a positive outcome.

After that, the authorities and Irish representatives continued to express sincere praise for Victoria.

Judging that it was time to calm the atmosphere, I stood next to the Queen and began to speak.

“Hello. I am truly delighted to meet you all here in Ireland, not London. First of all, I would like to express my gratitude to our noble Queen Victoria for willingly traveling all the way here for Ireland.”

“Long live the Queen!”

“God save the Queen!”

“Earl Aaron! You’re so handsome!”

Even if I simply utter conventional words, the atmosphere on the scene intensifies.

Is this why politicians become addicted to the high of campaigning?

“But unfortunately, I am not here to deliver only good news. Some rumors have already spread to some extent locally. I’ve heard that accurate and inaccurate rumors are combined to create new 괴담 [urban legends or frightening tales]. I couldn’t bear to see Ireland suffering in this way, so I earnestly appealed to the Queen, and Her benevolent Majesty listened to my request and came all the way to Ireland with me.”

“Thank you! Thank you, Your Majesty!”

“The hope of Ireland!”

“First of all, I will address the story that you are most curious about. Nothing is true except what I say, so those of you here should write it down accurately and then go back to where you came from and tell people. First of all, it is true that the potato blight may cause devastating damage to potato farming.”

“…Heok!”

The atmosphere, which had been friendly until just now, changed as if by magic.

The audience froze in an instant upon hearing my words.