Partisanship
It was a golden age for Equestria, as the last 50 years had reshaped the kingdom into an empire of coal, steel, and innovation.
Great towers filled her many cities, grasping skyward like the talons of some equinemade titan. The airship, steamboat, and railway brought her together, allowing ponies from lands as distant as Vanhoover and Baltimare to travel across the continent in a matter of days. Above all else her wealth had grown to the point that the streets of her regal capital were lined with fine marble, world-renowned architecture, and wares which originated from every corner of a global empire.
However, not everything about this age was glorious. Most major cities in Equestria were now filled with rows of factories which belched an offensive dark smoke into the air. Factories which were hungry, demanding a constant diet of material, fuel, and ponies. This demand had swelled the urban population and filled it with detestable slums rife with crime and illness.
While some ponies may be indulging in luxuries which their grandmothers and fathers would never dream of, the majority could barely afford the roof over their head, the food they ate, and the water they drank.
The factories also gave birth to a burgeoning population of newly-minted aristocrats and capitalists who found the income provided by their institutions to be an addictive drug. They invested and profited, garnering a level of wealth which surpassed that of even Equestria’s old landed elite.
This provided them with a degree of influence never before seen within Equestrian politics. Most ponies were mortal, and mortal beings could be persuaded through bribes and presents. Not even the ponies tasked with governance were immune to this. In fact, they were often the first to sin.
The infant capitalist class soon took over the Chamber of the Commons, using their new tool with little restraint. They stripped the labour rights of the lowest echelons of society, forcefully expanded Equestria’s influence over her neighbours, and did everything to funnel more wealth towards themselves.
Equestria’s lower classes didn’t take this lying down. They mobilized and began a campaign of protest.
At first it had been peaceful, mostly revolving around the stoppage of work and striking against the established elite.
However, the Commons escalated the situation with a declaration of emergency. The goal was to get the workers back into the factories. It failed to achieve this and the militia was raised in order to enforce the mandate.
The working class was not deterred. So, the two forces met in the streets and bloodshed was narrowly avoided only when the royal guard was deployed as peacekeepers.
Still, the incident had lit the fuse of a dormant powder keg. Peaceful protests turned violent as riots burned through all of Equestria’s major cities. They were so intense that nothing could save the urban estates and properties of the wealthy, most of whom had fled to the countryside. Manors were ransacked, department stores pillaged, and factories gutted by flames.
As the public discontent mounted, rumours began to circulate claiming that bands of rioters were prepared to break out into open rebellion against the crown.
While these claims were never verified, it was enough for the Commons to call an emergency session, during which First Minister Ruby Bow proposed drastic legislation which she stated was necessary in order to maintain the unity, security, and prosperity of the kingdom.
This legislation called for the banning of all large public gatherings unless they received a permit, the criminalization of all organization found to be supporting “revolutionary elements”, and finally stripping the right to vote from anypony found to be a member of such an organization. On top of this there were already amendments in the works which would bolster the militia and turn the Royal Guard into a largely ceremonial force.
Even though the Commons were heavily populated by the moneyed elite, such drastic legislation was enough to give all but the most die-hard radicals cold hooves.
The debate was fierce. On one side was a coalition of parties heavily influenced by the money of the capitalist class. These included the Mercantile League, the Old Guard of Equestria, the Unicorn Society, and Ruby Bow’s Liberal Party.
On the other was a smaller coalition of leftist organizations led by the Equestrian Worker’s Party, the Free Syndicalist Commune, and the Social Betterment Movement. All of whom would cease to legally exist under the proposed legislation.
Neither camp had found enough clout to pass, or kill, the bill. So, both now found themselves locked in a struggle to win over the support of the various independent and middling parties.
As all of this raged, Celestia watched from her castle’s balcony. She had been there for days now as the situation unfolded across her capital.
She had been there when the riots broke out, having seen the pillars of smoke fill the air as once proud neighbourhoods were reduced to ashes and tinder.
She had been there when she gave the order for her guards to protect the city’s residents from the militia. A militia which, ironically, she had formed to protect Equestria’s citizens from tyrants.
It was now the balcony she sat upon to ignore the constant influx of letters and meetings. Every faction wanted her approval, her sign of support. Even in this modern age, where her political power waned, a royal decree still held incredible weight.
Initially she had been reluctant to align herself with either camp. Not that she didn’t have a strong opinion. It was just that doing so would be in direct opposition of the political neutrality she was supposed to uphold.
Any action she took could be seen as her side-stepping the Common’s autonomy and showing favouritism. A political endorsement from her could be incredibly dangerous. After all, even in these trying times she was still a much beloved monarch with near godlike abilities. Ponies would vote based on what she said, a lot of them would. She’d hate to completely reshape the political climate with a poor choice of words. That would only destabilize things further.
However, as civil disorder worsened the decision became increasingly clear. Inaction was an action in itself and it was by far the worst one she could make.
Could she honestly destabilize her elected government anymore then it had destabilized itself?
So as the third day of the debates raged Celestia took flight with a detachment of her elite pegasus guard.
Her destination was the Commons’ building.
The guards selected were by far the most loyal and well trained she had at her disposal. They also had a staunch anti-republican bias. Normally she would decry this, but it would prove useful in the coming engagement.
As she flew above Canterlot, she scanned the streets below. They were clogged with hundreds, no thousands, of ponies. On a peaceful day these concentrations would have been an inconvenience. Today, with tensions as high as they were, it was a disaster waiting to happen.
Still, even with the threat of civil war looming, her presence seemed to momentarily quell their rage. All throughout the streets ponies stopped and began to wave, bow, and pray to her. There were hundreds of different signs of respect and love being presented. Each unique to the individual.
Celestia shifted her gaze from the streets to focus on the rapidly approaching building.
By far one of the most elegant structures in the city, the Commons’ building was second only to the royal palace. It was crafted from a fine marble and had a domed roof of bronze and silver. All along the exterior were large pillars which supported an overhang of solid rock, carved into which was an expertly crafted panorama depicting what this building stood for.
The building itself and the few blocks surrounding it had been protected from the violence by a detachment of militiaponies. They had practically turned it into an impromptu fortress.
The sight of such a military force in the streets of Canterlot worried Celestia.
The fact that the very seat of liberty had to be safe guarded from its citizens was almost sickening.
There was an illness within those chambers. Hopefully it was one she could cure without conflict.
She landed at the foot of the building’s massive steps with her guards taking up position on either flank. Together they formed up into a tight v-shaped wedge ten wide and three deep, with her at the head.
Once everypony was in position they began to climb the steps together.
A company’s worth of miltiaponies came rushing down to greet them. Unlike her guards they advanced in a loose, unprofessional formation.
Truly these were foals playing soldier.
Her guards attempted to run ahead and intercept. However, she spread her massive wings, bringing them to an immediate halt.
“Enough blood has been spilled,” she said. “At least give me a chance to reason with them.”
Her guards didn’t look pleased, but she knew they’d obey.
Without another word she continued her ascent alone.
“Ponies of the Equestrian Militia,” she called. “I beseech you for an audience.”
The militiaponies slowed, coming to a stop a dozen or so steps in front of her.
There was an air of indecision amongst them. They seemed nervous, unsure. She could sense it by the way they fidgeted under her unwavering gaze.
For the last few weeks, these ponies had probably felt unstoppable behind their leather armour and cheaply made weapons. For sure, such trinkets would be devastating against the hides of her unarmed citizenry. However, when opposed by an actual threat they practically quivered within their horseshoes.
How many of them had drawn blood? How many had taken an equine life?
The First Minister had much to answer for. Her entire chamber did. It was Celestia’s divine duty to ensure it.
“What are your orders?” Celestia asked.
A mare on the left of the opposing formation stepped forward. “To stop anypony from entering the parliamentary grounds.”
“Well I am not just anypony. I am a Princess of Equestria. Would you deny your monarch access?”
The militiaponies wavered for a moment, their composure ever so slightly slipping.
“I’m sorry your majesty but these orders come from the First Minister. No exceptions are to be made, not even for yourself. If this was any other time or place you’d be free to pass,” the same mare said. “But…but today I am dutybound to stop you.”
Truly it was a dark day in Equestria when she was denied access to these hallowed halls. In fact, it was unprecedented.
“Would you be willing to strike me down if I attempted to pass?” Celestia asked.
A militiastallion swallowed. A militamare shivered. A bead of sweat rolled down the commanding mare’s forehead.
“I suppose I would…your majesty,” she answered.
Celesta’s guards attempted to step forward to defend her. In response she spread her wings again, denying them the conflict they yearned for.
She took a single confident step forward.
The militiaponies leveled their sabres, spears, and flintlocks against her.
“If any of you will strike down your Princess, here I am.”
She closed her eyes and stood there, inviting the full brunt of their fury. Instead she was greeted by the sound of a single wooden pole clattering to the ground. There was a moment’s pause, and then a crescendo of wood and steel against the hard marble below.
When Celestia opened her eyes, she saw the assembled company bowing at her hooves. Their weapons cast aside.
“I’m so sorry,” a militiastallion said.
Celestia slowly walked past him. “You are forgiven, my little pony.”
She passed the company in a matter of strides. With that obstacle removed she and her entourage were left unhindered in their ascent.
The large steps plateaued at their peak. Beyond them, past the mammoth pillars, was a set of heavy bronze doors which stood several metres tall. They were supposedly heavy, taking a dozen strong earth ponies to move them.
Sadly, they were currently closed and the draftponies absent.
In lieu of this, Celestia embraced the doors with her golden aura. She then pulled them open with the slightest flick of her horn.
What was several tons of metal to a mare whose daily routine involved rearranging the heavens?
Inside were more of the militia. The lower ranks stared at the entrance, gaping in awe. Their officers appeared a bit more composed. Though Celestia could easily peer through this façade. All together they probably number two hundred. Each armed with some form of weaponry.
She walked in with her guards.
Without breaking stride, she addressed them. “Ask yourselves something, my subjects. Who do you serve? The First Minister, or your Princess?”
The answer came swiftly as weapons were cast aside and bodies pressed respectfully against the floor.
Maybe there was some merit to backing up diplomatic posturing with a show of force?
Celestia smiled.
The chances of doing this without bloodshed seemed to be growing with each step she took.
The hallowed halls she walked through looked more fitting for the interior of a cathedral rather than a government building. It was decorated with ornate stained-glass windows, statutes, banners, and powerful imagery etched into the very walls.
However, its bureaucratic nature was betrayed by the sea of desks which sprawled endlessly in every direction. Normally these would service the thousands of civil servants who worked tirelessly to keep the kingdom operating. In this time of crisis however, they laid abandoned.
She frowned.
These halls didn’t sound right without the scratching of quills or clattering of mechanical keys. Hopefully it wouldn’t be long before they were once again used for their intended purpose.
At the very end of the room was a second set of steps, leading to another pair of doors. These were made of a lavish looking oak with a mural engraved upon them. It was symbolic, showing the relationship of the monarch and her Ministers. Two bodies which were suppose to work in tandem for the prosperity of Equestria and her citizens.
Not one citizen, or some citizens, but all citizens.
On one hoof, this piece presented the view that the Commons held an important role of moderating Celestia, keeping her in check. However, today it would seem like the roles were reversed.
As Celestia climbed the final steps she approached the doors, stopping only a few metres away. Her guards began to fan out, forming a thin semi-circle around her. They looked outwards, holding their pikes at the ready.
Only her captain, Sirius, stood at her side.
“Are you ready, Your Majesty?” he asked.
Celestia slowly nodded. “I think so.”
“Think so? Isn’t it a little late to be getting cold hooves?”
She shook her head. “It’s not that. It’s just, I am about to trample upon traditions which have been upheld for nearly five hundred years. No pony should ever open these doors while the Commons are in session. That includes me…” She sighed. “Especially me.”
Sirius smiled. “May I suggest teleportation?”
“For some strange reason I don’t think they’d find that very clever.”
“Of course, ma’am.”
“You know, ordinarily I wouldn’t even dream of doing something like this.”
“These are not ordinary times.”
“I know but…traditions are hard to mend once they’ve been violated.”
“This violation wouldn’t be necessary if it weren’t for the actions of your First Minister. If a tradition must be sacrificed in order for the institution to survive, then I fail to see any other option. Surely you must agree.”
Celestia was silent for a moment.
“I do,” she finally said.
Even though the doors were thick, Celestia could still hear a voice on the other side. While it was muffled, she could easily distinguish the speaker’s baritone. It was Red Banner, leader of the opposition.
While she was by no means fond of his anti-monarchist sentiments, she could still appreciate that times like these created strange bedfellows.
She raised her hoof and slammed it forcefully against the door three times. It shuddered under her strength, the noise echoing loudly.
Silence followed as no one seemed willing to speak on either side.
The doors remained closed and eventually Red Banner delved back into his speech.
Now that was just plain rude.
She knocked upon the door three more times, even more forcefully than before.
For a moment Celestia feared that they would continue to ignore her, forcing her to do something drastic. Then came the reassuring sound of wood against wood as the thick barricades, which kept the room fortified, were pulled aside. A second later the doors parted, opening the Commons to her.
As she entered the chamber, all eyes were upon her. Over three hundred ponies of varying races, classes, backgrounds, and political identities stared at her. The only thing they shared in common was the look of awe as she stepped into the room.
The chamber was lavish and adorned with furniture and décor which decried its centuries of operation. Each member of the Commons was seated within rows of ancient elm pews and were surrounded by walls made of a musty smelling paneling. Both had been considered antique when the member’s great-great-grandparents had sat within. In the centre was an opulent table with various tomes, texts, and treasures presented upon it. Each had its own purpose, with generations of meaning pour into them.
Celestia kept her head held high, scanning the sea of faces. With the exception of the First Minister, no other representatives held her gaze.
There was a coldness behind the First Minister’s eyes. Not even the presence of Celestia bursting into the chamber seemed to phase her.
She was a proud looking unicorn with a silver coat and sapphire blue mane. Her muzzle was long and elegant, feeding into the air of confidence which just radiated from her.
Celestia stopped as she approached the centre of the room. It was deathly silent now, to the point that one could hear a pin drop.
“I come before you today with a single message,” Celestia said. “Due to recent actions taken by this chamber I find myself to have lost confidence with First Minister Ruby Bow. As such I am using the power vested in me as Sovereign of Equestria, Princess of the Sun, Chancellor of the Earth Pony Tribes, Queen of the Unicorn Duchies, and Commander of the Pegasus Forces to sack my Minister, dissolve her government, and call for fresh elections in the near future.”
The reaction was immediate as a large segment of the room jeered her without restraint. This wasn’t even remotely surprising. Normally she’d feel some remorse at such a negative reaction and maybe even a little fear at the consequences.
However, she felt confident with her decision. Any chance her opponents would have at revenge would be vested in them getting re-elected. This was a gamble she felt secure in taking.
Plus, the jeering wasn’t universal. There were a minority of representatives who were clapping their hooves together. It was good to know she still had some allies within this chamber.
As all of this took place a single weathered stallion sat within a high seated throne, trying his best to restore some degree of order to the collective. This was the Speaker of the House, the only royally designated position within the entire body. As such, Celestia could easily consider him an ally.
She continued, “I do not make this decision lightly. However, in my heart and mind, I know it is the right one to make. The public has spoken, First Minister and I do not believe with even an ounce of will that you continue to hold their support. What is the point of a house of representatives when it does not represent?”
The First Minister stood up. “And what right do you have, Princess? There are traditions on which our fragile democracy is built on. The very fact that you prance over them so eagerly is an affront to the very public you claim to be speaking for.”
Celestia turned to Ruby Bow. “I am fully aware of the traditions I trample upon. These halls have a sacredness which my mere intrusion demeans. However First Minister, I was the mare who gave birth to and fostered our democratic institutions. I am its mother and as such I reserve the right to stand up when I believe my child is threatened. You, First Minister, you are a threat to the very fabric of democracy.”
“I am defending democracy from forces who seek to destroy it.”
“Defending it by disenfranchising a portion of the population? If that is your definition of ‘defending democracy’ then I will personally take our constitution and use it as kindling in my fire, because at least then it will have some practical purpose.”
“Any ponies who lose their right to vote did not deserve it in the first place. Princess, you are a relic of a bygone era. The Equestria of today needs fresh blood and calculating minds to govern it. I personally will not allow domestic enemies to bring our great kingdom to its knees.”
The chamber both cheered and booed. It was hard to tell which was aimed at who.
“I may be thousands of years old, but you dismiss my wisdom far too easily. I have been alive and stood strong against every major threat to have crossed our borders. If you are looking for a villain who wishes Equestria harm, then you must only look in a mirror. First Minister, the decision I am making is sound. You and ponies like yourself have manipulated and diseased the institution of which I am trying to defend. This chamber used to exist to pass legislation for the betterment of this kingdom. Tell me First Minister, how can you claim to be part of that process when the streets of Canterlot are in a state of anarchy. Tell me how I am supposed to accept your word as truth when you yourself have only escalated the very violence you are attempting to reign in. You are staging a coup and I will not stand for it.”
Celestia tore her gaze away from Ruby Bow and shifted it to her speaker.
“Feathered Quill, you as Speaker of this House have dedicated your life to the workings of this institution. Am I wrong in believing that I, as monarch of this land, have the authority to dismiss my Ministers?”
Feathered Quill’s gaze narrowed. Much like herself he was another relic of a bygone era, an ancient stallion in a modern world, a much-needed voice of wisdom in a chamber dominated by cold calculation and power games.
“You are not, Princess,” he finally said. “If it is your desire to dismiss Ruby Bow, then you have that privilege. It is given to you both by ancient decree and by the very constitution of Equestria. I however must affirm that you are serious in this request. Have you, Princess Celestia, lost confidence within your First Minister, Ruby Bow?”
She nodded. “I have.”
“And do you wish to dismiss her, in the knowledge that such an act would result in the end of this session of the Commons?”
“I do.”
“Then I, as speaker of this house, must submit to your wishes.”
He picked up his gavel and smacked it against the block. The noise echoed throughout the room, silencing everypony present.
“Due to Princess Celestia’s lack of confidence within First Minister Ruby Bow, I must adjourn the 152nd session of the Commons of Equestria.”
Ruby’s horn glowed as she leapt from the stands and stomped over to Celestia.
“You villain,” she roared. “Your push for autocracy will not go unanswered. I promise you that when I’m re-elected I will do everything in my power to defang you and cleanse this body of your poisonous privileges.”
Celestia studied her. “If”
“If?”
“If you are re-elected, miss Bow.”
The unicorn sneered but didn’t respond. Instead she walked away, returning to her allies. They chatted amongst themselves for a few moments before beating a hasty retreat out of the room.
With the head now severed from the snake the chamber began to simmer down. One by one the representatives funneled past Celestia, doing their best to avoid her critical gaze.
Captain Sirius approached from behind.
“So how did it go, Your Majesty?” he asked.
Celestia sighed. “It could have gone better, but the deed is done.”
“Should we take miss Bow into custody?”
“Not yet. The eyes of the kingdom are about to be upon me. I’ve just slain democracy and the last thing I need is to appear like a dictator who arrests their opponents. When things…stabilize she’ll face justice.”
“Of course.”
She nodded. “Now come along. We’ll have much to do before Equestria is prepared for another election. First I’ll need you to mobilize the entire guard and begin disarming the militia.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Celestia walked towards the exit with Sirius in tow.
With them gone, the chamber now lied fallow.