It is a cold day in late March. The streets of Stockholm, known to the citizens of the Workers Commonwealth as "The Revolutionary City", the world as the capital of a great nation held in thrall by a dictatorial cabal of proletarist radicals, are packed. The Fatherland Proletarian Army marches through the streets, with First Proletarian Mannerheim at its head, atop his horse. Jubilant proletarians cry out their salutations to the advancing column of soldiers. Bayonets glisten in the winter sun, and the blue and gold "Flag of the Workers" flies proudly from the roof of every building along the route of the great parade. The streets of the city are plastered in posters, the product of the "Printers Labor Union of the Workers", only too glad to contribute however possible to the Revolution of the Proletariat. The posters, generally depicting clenched fists against the background of a stark red sky, proclaim their support for the Revolution with phrases like "We the Workers ceaselessly strive to keep our glorious Revolution alive!" and "The freedom of the Scandinavian nation shall never perish from this earth!"
I, one of a paltry few of foreign journalists permitted to view the spectacle, dart through the crowd asking those who are not too swept up in the glory of the hour to speak, various questions about the Revolution of the Proletariat. Unanimously, they proclaim their admiration for First Proletarian Mannerheim. Is it not poetic justice, they ask, that a son of the military aristocracy would lead the effort to free the workers? All look forward to the glorious future of proletarian, proletarist triumph, wherein they feel certain that the workers of the world will unite. One man, through tears, told me the story of how he had been a member of one of Scandinavia's first few proletarist parties in the "dark days" of the Golden Nineties. No one in the crowd does anything but speak in overjoyed tones about the glorious future ahead for the proletariat, not only in Scandinavia, but across the world. I notice one of the many posters along the path of the parade bears the First Proletarian's likeness. Across the boulevard, I can make out Mannerheim asking us all to contemplate the suffering and struggle by which the workers have achieved liberation, and the suffering and struggle of future generations ensuring the liberation of all workers across the world.
I ask one man if he does not feel the Revolution is backed up, almost as much by the will of the workers, by the will of the league of military officers and figures that have assumed leadership of the provisional government, the "Revolutionary Council". His response is uniform, "Scandinavia has always had faith in its military. Even before the Revolution, even the haughtiest of the aristocrats recognized the honor and privilege of military service. It is right that the army should come to the aid of the Revolution." Indeed it is. Colleague Mannerheim himself (it is now a fashion for all persons in any position of authority to be referred to as "Colleague" in referral speech) was one of many sons of the aristocracy that took refuge in the military during the era of modernization and reformation that was supposed to end the oppressive aristocracy that so many proletarians claim was the singular woe of the Scandinavian proletariat. The Revolution's foremost thinkers, men like the playwright-turned-pamphleteer Henrik Ibsen, speak of the nobility of the army and the evil of the aristocracy. It is odd that the Revolution does not denounce the plutocracy except as an arm of the industrial complex that oppressed the proletariat, but so much ideological lip service is paid here in Stockholm even among the most staunch of Revolutionary ideologues to the "liberty, egalitarianism, fraternity" of the past century's liberal thinkers. It would not be unfair to say that the Revolution is those traits expressed in the form of pure ideological deism, a worship of the ideals presented by the parliamentarians of the 1840's. Based off his own writings, First Proletarian Mannerheim would not disagree.
The Roman salute of the previous era, made popular by imperial-minded colonialists and proud citizens watching the Litenfingret armies go off to war, has been abandoned in favor of the understated hand-to-cap practiced in the English-speaking nations, but in more prolific appearance, a fist to the breast or even a clenched fist thrust into the air, as popularized in so many of the propaganda posters that litter the city. Mannerheim is more traditionally-minded, and as he passes the citizens, he gives them the old salute. They don't seem to mind, he is a military man after all.
Moving through the crowd, I finally manage to position myself at its front, and have an intriguing conversation with one of the military guards. After exchanging pleasantries, he mentions he has family in Africa. I ask him what he thinks of the current separation. Like so many of the citizens of the Workers Commonwealth, like their leaders, he expresses dismay that the Kongo Society cannot seem to come to a compromise with the proletarist leadership of the Commonwealth. The proletarists, perhaps out of that lip service paid to their liberal forebears, perhaps out of simple latent patriotism, seem reluctant to let go of the idea that proletarism can be reconciled with the empire. They speak of bringing proletarism to Africa, setting not only the white settlers free, but the native population. The soldier tells me about his brother, apparently some kind of "Proletarian Architect" who is involved in the social and psychological aspect of the Revolution (insofar as the Revolutionary Council apparently believes the Revolution is an evolutionary shift in human history, and that a new generation of psychologists and doctors must rise to the challenge of conditioning all mankind to its new lifestyle), who already has dreams of the agricultural collectivization and "proletarization" of Somaliland and Abyssinia's native farmers. Everywhere I see nothing to disavow me of First Proletarian Mannerheim's assertion that "... this is a revolution of intellectuals and philosophers..." If anything, those who wish to speak ill of the Revolution of the Proletariat (sometimes the Revolution of the Workers, or even the Great Patriotic Proletarian Struggle of the Scandinavian Worker for Equality) might say that it is a revolution entirely devoid of practicality, an exercise in political thought and theory.
When I ask this young soldier from Stockholm if he has any fears for the future, his only words are "We are a blessed generation, living in the first truly free human society. We are accorded the great task of bringing this freedom to all men. The Lord is our shepherd, and we shall not want."