Chapter 328 Innocence
The general election is about to enter the voting stage, and all political parties are busy with the final sprint.
The Progressive Party was no exception. After Muna finished his speech in the South Pufan district, he began to attack the north.
With the financial support provided by Ron, the Progressive Party quickly gained a foothold in the East.
The strategy of lower castes banding together is successful, and people will naturally tend to be inclined towards people of the same class as themselves.
When the Progressive Party was first established, it adopted a strategy of uniting the majority.
As long as they are of low caste, whether they are Shudras or Dalits, they are the targets of the Progressive Party.
The Harvi caste does not have an advantage in numbers and cannot form its own system like the Yadav caste, so it can only take an open approach.
In order to win more votes, Munna even chose a Dalit as his assistant.
Whenever he gave a speech in a Dalit village, he would focus on introducing his untouchable companions.
He knew how to judge the situation and win people's hearts. The knowledge in books taught him a lot.
A few days before the election, Ron specially called together his two sons, Aditya and Muna, to analyze their public support rate in the Purvancha district.
Needless to say, from Varanasi south, all twenty constituencies are their own.
Chandauli in the east has four constituencies, two of which accepted the goodwill released by the Sur family.
That damn place was flooded with hemp and opium. No matter how Muna gave a speech there and tried to incite the people, they were numb like zombies.
The local tyrant Shabnan used these drugs to control almost half of Chandauli.
Fortunately, the downfall of Tripathi and Tilaka made him realize that things were not going well, and he fled to a foreign country early.
Otherwise, it would be difficult for Ron to win over the local candidates in those four constituencies.
He was determined to capture the four counties in the southern part of Pufancha District. He would deal with the gang leader in Chandauli later.
Now that the election is approaching, it is not appropriate to use guns on a large scale, otherwise other parties will inevitably attack us.
Politics is so troublesome. Everyone understands some things, but you still have to do the superficial work.
This is the situation of the Sur family's control in the southeast region. There are 12 more districts in the central and northern parts of the Pufancha region, totaling 93 constituencies.
Only six constituencies have clearly expressed their intention to join their camp, so there is still a long way to go.
However, for the Suhr family, which was participating in politics on a large scale for the first time, it was already quite good, as they were able to control 30 constituencies.
There are only 117 seats in the Pufancha district, and the Sur family directly occupies a quarter of them, so no one dares to underestimate them.
It’s frightening to think what the Pufancha District will look like in a few years.
Of course, no one can predict what the outcome of the election will be until the dust settles.
To be on the safe side, Ron is also ready to use his money to bribe voters!
“What do you think voters in Purvancha District would prefer?” he asked.
"Money!" Aditya insisted.
"Okay, everyone likes money, but you can't really spend it, right?"
"Why not? Those northern constituencies are too far away from us. Without enough benefits, voters won't easily switch sides."
"Then how many people do you think should be given money? And how can you guarantee that they won't vote for someone else after receiving the money?"
"It's simple," Aditya said, clearly understanding the situation. "We'll pay 30% of the promised amount the day before the election, and the remaining 70% after the election."
Mortgage payments? Futures bribery? Ron looked peculiar.
"Actually, there's no need to worry about this. After Tripathi and Tilaka's forces were wiped out, no one dares to take the Sur family's money and not do the job." Aditya added.
The two gangsters died for a good cause; they became the best stepping stones for the Sul family to climb up.
There are no secrets in the East. Everyone knows why those two men died.
It is true that they are die-hard supporters of the current Chief Minister, but so what? Even the Chief Minister can't do anything about the Sur family.
If any voter is tired of living, he can just take the money and do nothing.
Aditya believes that just giving money is simple and efficient.
"Uncle, how much money do you think is a suitable gift?" It seems that Ron was really considering it.
“If we give 100 rupees to each household and 100,000 families, we can basically cover all six constituencies.”
India has a large population, with each family consisting of seven or eight people. Among 100,000 households, there are at least 500,000 to 600,000 adults eligible to vote.
It just so happens that the northern part of Pufancha District is relatively backward, with each constituency having a population of only about 100,000 people, so this amount of money is just right.
"Ten million rupees, six seats, not bad." Ron nodded.
The north is not their base, so for the time being they can only rely on money to maintain their patronage network.
"As for other constituencies, we have to give something."
"In rural areas, we can send seeds, fertilizers and cattle, and women can send saris. If all else fails, we can also help them find jobs."
"Second uncle, please make a list. We'll go buy the goods tomorrow and deliver them to your door the night before the vote."
"Okay, I'll take care of it." After all, Aditya had been a municipal committee member, so he did have some organizational skills.
"Muna, what are your thoughts on the southern constituencies?"
"Master, there's no need for large-scale vote-buying in the south. We just need to seize a few key areas."
"What do you mean?" Ron asked with interest.
"Most poor people are controlled by a small number of people. As long as you deal with a small number of people, you don't have to worry about the rest."
Ron and Adiya looked at each other and saw the surprise in each other's eyes.
"Okay, the constituency near Songbadra is now yours."
"Yes, sir."
Muna is very experienced in dealing with the grassroots, as he had experienced several such elections when he was a child.
After roughly reviewing the campaign strategy, Ron and his team split up and took action.
Second brother Aditya will be in charge of the affairs in Varanasi. The eight constituency candidates are all relatives and friends of the Sur family.
Muna is in charge of the Sonbadra constituency, where the situation is similar to that of Khanna Village.
As for Mirzapur, it had long been run by Ron like an iron barrel. There was no need to worry about voting or anything like that.
Ron himself is not idle either. He is going to Lucknow to talk with the BJP and the Bahasa Samajwadi Party about post-election matters.
Time flies, and two days before the general election, the Progressive Party held its last rally in Songbadra.
As usual, Muna went up to give a speech. He was full of fighting spirit and his words were very inflammatory.
After the rally, the priests performed a special ritual to pray for victory for the Progressive Party.
They distributed mutton biryani on paper plates in front of the temple and there was free liquor in the evening.
The next morning, a large group of police came in a menacing and dusty manner.
After entering the village, a police officer read out the voting instructions aloud at the market.
The general meaning is that no matter what they did, it was for the good of the villagers.
The enemies of the great Progressive Party are trying to steal this election from us poor people.
They wanted to take the rights from us poor people, and the great Progressives mercifully broke the chains for the poor.
But they want to put chains and shackles back on the poor, do you understand?
After saying that, the police went back, and the dust was raised behind the car again.
At night, the villagers gathered together and whispered.
"What's going on with this Progressive Party? I've never heard of it before."
"Who knows? It's always like that. I've been to twelve elections: five national elections, five state elections, and two regional elections. And every time, someone else voted for me."
"I've heard that in this other India, the India in the newspapers, people vote freely. That's pretty amazing, isn't it?"
The villagers discussed the election but didn't care about the results at all, because they knew it had nothing to do with them.
The day of voting finally arrived in Songbadra. A ray of sunshine penetrated the darkness, bringing warmth to the coal slag-covered Songbadra.
The walls of the village square are covered with slogans and posters of the Progressive Party.
The so-called polling station was just a table, where Muna sat in person, using a hammer to nail the Progressive Party flag on the wall.
Following the instructions of the landlord or other officials, the villagers voted for the Progressive Party.
It was a yellow box with a sun printed on it. It was very eye-catching and there was no mistaking it.
Suddenly a rickshaw driver left the team and walked straight to the side.
He is a short, dark-skinned man who has always been unknown.
I don’t know what’s wrong with him today.
A group of rickshaw pullers surrounded him and tried to dissuade him, but they were just pretending.
They had seen this kind of thing before, and they knew that it would be useless to try to stop him now.
The rickshaw puller declared himself a citizen of democratic India and had the right to vote freely.
Well, that's what he thought. He declared that he would leave the filthy land and be a free Uttar Pradesh citizen from that day on.
He walked quickly to the polling station in the square, shouting as he walked: "I should stand up against the rich, isn't that what they always say?"
When he arrived at the polling place, supporters of the Great Progressive Party had already written the results on the blackboard outside:
They received a total of 2,341 votes at this polling station.
Everyone voted for the Great Progressive Party, even though many villagers were still queuing.
What difference does it make? Whether they vote or not, the result is the same.
Muna climbed up the ladder and nailed the Great Progressive Party flag to the wall.
The flag had a slogan printed on it: Warmest congratulations to the great Progressive Party for their great victory in Mangal!
Seeing the rickshaw puller, Munna dropped the hammer, nails and flag in his hands.
"What are you doing here?"
"Vote," he roared. "Isn't the election today?"
"You've already voted." Muna looked at him.
"No, I don't! I want to vote in person. It's my freedom!"
“You live in India, why do you have such naive ideas?”
"India is independent, we have free voting rights!"
"Independence?" Muna scoffed. "Perhaps not being independent would be better for everyone."
This country is a big zoo. After the British left, the politicians in Delhi opened the cages of the zoo.
Birds and beasts escaped from their enclosures and attacked each other in a life-and-death struggle. The laws of jungle survival replaced the laws of the zoo.
The most ferocious and hungry animals ate the other animals, and their bellies grew bigger and bigger.
The size of your belly can explain everything today. No matter you are a woman, a herdsman, or a pariah, as long as your belly is big enough, you will have the confidence to speak.
In short, there are only two castes in India today: the big-bellied and the flat-bellied.
Either eat or be eaten.
Muna's eyes turned cold. This time he would not let his "candy store" be robbed.
He waved and two policemen rushed over behind him.
(End of this chapter)
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