Eagle, I don't want to form an alliance anymore.

As for the humanities, it's not that we won't expand, but rather that we will expand slowly, in a planned, rhythmic, and moderate manner, with a focus on practical humanities subjects that are "useful," such as foreign languages, international relations, and economics and management.

As for those pure literature and pure philosophy majors, Slava specifically instructed that they should not be expanded too rapidly—he knew better than anyone what kind of people would be produced by stuffing a large group of young people who did not engage in labor production into the humanities college.

The plan also includes a special "National Urgent Needs Professional Scholarship," which provides special treatment to students in in-demand majors, and they will be assigned to OGAS construction units upon graduation.

Expanding undergraduate programs alone is not enough. Slava understands that what OGAS truly lacks is not a large number of undergraduates, but top-notch PhDs and engineers. Therefore, the plan also significantly increases the scale of doctoral and master's degree programs, improves the treatment of scholars, and revives the political honor of "red professors."

The group of PhDs and Masters in science and engineering are naturally inclined to be technocrats rather than radical democrats in politics—this is a sure-fire deal for Slava.

In an effort to appease the respected older generation of intellectuals, the CPSU reopened the path of "experts entering party and government organs."

Lenin had already practiced governing the country through expert guidance. Slava revitalized this tradition by allowing renowned experts from academies and universities to join government advisory bodies as non-Party members, giving them a path to participate in decision-making.

This is more effective at winning people's hearts than raising their wages.

As for whether one can actually participate in decision-making? One can only say that the multi-party cooperation and political consultation system that Lao Zhong (Zhong Qiqihar) established is a good system.

Next came reclaiming the right of interpretation; Slava had to take back control of the discourse on the reform of the workers' Soviets.

We are not talking about reducing the power of the workers' Soviets; we are talking about clarifying the scientific positioning of the workers' Soviets. The Soviets should manage what they are good at managing, and delegate system-level decisions that they cannot manage to a scientific planning system.

The overarching principle that "the masses supervise the national economy through OGAS" must not be changed in a single word; this is the source of the legitimacy of the Slava reforms. Furthermore, to provide "compensation" for intellectuals, the plan specifically proposed establishing a "Conference of Representatives of Scientific and Technological Workers," giving them a channel for political participation similar to that of the workers' soviets.

Finally, there's Slava's own stance. He wants to hold regular discussions with representatives of intellectuals, and he wants to quote literature, philosophy, and science in his public speeches, moving away from official jargon and platitudes. He also wants to publicly praise several prestigious non-Party intellectuals.

Gorbachev initially won the favor of intellectuals by appearing cultured, willing to listen, and not arrogant. Slava, as a time traveler, had much more confidence in this matter than Gorbachev.

Patience! Patience! At this time, you should play the submissive role. Slava is least afraid of being patient.

Slava also made an additional investment to raise the salaries of researchers, aiming to make those semiconductor engineers into stars of the new era, just like how aerospace engineers were made during the space race in the 1960s, with the media, movies, and biographies following suit.

As for the recently deceased Academician Kantorovich, he was posthumously awarded a high-level honor, and his works were included in the required reading list of the Party School. In any case, the gesture must be made properly.

The plan was passed smoothly at the Politburo meeting. Veteran cadres like Ligachev had no objection to the goal of "keeping intellectuals in check and preventing them from causing trouble," and the plan's clear and scientific definition of its positioning gave ample face to the strengthening of the Party's leadership.

However, on the very night the plan was approved, Director Nian poured cold water on Slava's hopes.

“Brother, the plan is good, but the more successful you are on this path, the more likely you are to sow a huge hidden danger.”

"You said."

“Think about it,” Director Nian flicked a sunflower seed shell into the wastepaper basket, “the better and smoother your system of ‘informatization plus planned economy processing and supervision’ operates, the more it will depend on a huge, specialized bureaucratic core to run it.”

What does this core do? It controls the algorithm, the data, and the key nodes of OGAS.

She raised her eyes, her rose-red pupils appearing exceptionally clear under the light.

"As the reforms deepen, a new privileged class will emerge from this core itself."

The Soviet Union's old problem was that party and government bureaucrats turned themselves into a privileged class that rode on the backs of the people. This problem, on another timeline, ultimately dragged the country down.

Will Slava's approach give rise to another version of a privileged class—a technocratic class that controls algorithms and the interpretation of data?

The former dragged down the Soviet Union, will the latter also drag down its path?

Director Nian added, "Once your system is truly rolled out, governance will become increasingly technical."

At that point, where do you think the boundaries of Soviet democracy will be drawn? What can the workers' Soviet possibly do in the face of your OGAS?

You ask workers to supervise, but can the workers understand those algorithms and models? If they can't, how can they supervise?

If you don't understand it, in the end you still have to listen to those who do, right? How is that any different from listening to bureaucrats in the past?

No, there is a difference. The people know where the bureaucrat's wrongdoing lies, but the technocrat's wrongdoing involves interpreting data and algorithms out of context, making it impossible for anyone to understand the truth.

This is an obstacle that Slava can never get around.

When governance becomes a highly specialized skill, how much of the democracy for ordinary people is left?

The office was quiet for a while.

Slava pondered for a long time. He walked to the window, gazing at the lights of Moscow gradually going out, and after a long while, he slowly spoke.

“I understand what you’re saying,” he said calmly. “But I can’t give you a perfect answer right now.”

He turned around.

“Every generation has its own revolution,” Slava said. “There is never a perfect policy—not even Lenin could do it!”

Lenin implemented War Communism, but it became unsuitable for the national conditions, so he switched to the New Economic Policy. The New Economic Policy created new problems, and on his deathbed, he was worried about how to prevent bureaucratization.

He spent his entire life fighting one new conflict after another, and he never finished fighting them until his death.

“Marxist principles tell us that contradictions are in motion,” he continued.

"Contradictions can transform. Today I solve the talent shortage and the dissatisfaction of intellectuals, but tomorrow new privileges of technocrats will emerge, and the day after tomorrow something else I can't even imagine will appear."

This is the inevitable law of historical development; there's no escaping it.

He looked at Director Nian and said firmly:

"Now the Party faces two paths: either stagnate, then lie on its laurels and slowly rot away, eventually being hollowed out by the privileged class it has nurtured—this is something that has already happened on another timeline."

Either we keep fighting and relentlessly revolting, resolving old contradictions and then tackling new ones, and so on.

"I choose the latter."

Director Nian looked at him with satisfaction.

She followed him from the double dormitory assigned to Andropov all the way to the General Secretary's office, witnessing his moments of tenderness and his moments of strength.

She knew that the person before her wasn't offering an answer—there's no such thing as a one-size-fits-all solution in this world—he was offering his determination:

Knowing full well that there are countless pitfalls ahead, and knowing that every problem you solve will lead to another, you still have to keep going.

"Alright, Brother Lao." Director Nian stood up, pushed his sunglasses up his head, and walked towards the door, leaving behind a final remark.

"Then we're going to be busy for the rest of our lives."

The door closed gently behind her.

Slava stood alone by the window, gazing at the city sinking into the night, at the vast country he had vowed to pull out of the abyss of another timeline.

The road ahead is long and fraught with challenges.

The battle never ends.

I'll research and read literature, and update this post tonight.

As the title suggests, the Soviet ethnic question that needs to be addressed next is an extremely complex and troublesome issue...

I will try my best to come up with a logically plausible, or at least self-consistent, solution for everyone. After all, the Soviet Union is already in 1987 in the novel's timeline. Given the national conditions at that time, following the mentor's ethnic policies of 1920 would have been a dead end, and they would have just been waiting for the collapse of the Soviet Union.

Chapter 75: Can I only see Ivanov by taking the left path? Really?

Since the plan to appease intellectuals was passed by the Politburo, Slava decided that no matter how much work he had on hand, he would take a few days each month to personally travel to the constituent republics and sit down to talk face-to-face with the local intellectuals and scholars.

This move was intended to appease both intellectuals and local authorities. He knew better than anyone that the fire burning beneath the pot of the Nationalist Republic was far fiercer and more dangerous than the discontent raging in the Moscow study.

Slava, however, had a winning hand that Gorbachev didn't: before he took the position of General Secretary, during his years of hard work in Ukraine, the Far East, and Almaty, he genuinely helped and protected many local people in the constituent republics.

The people will not forget his contributions, so when he, as General Secretary, sat down in the constituent republics, the local ethnic groups immediately had a favorable impression of him.

On July 28th, Slava arrived in Riga, the capital of Latvia.

The main event of the day was an interview with a group of local nationalist scholars. The meeting went fairly smoothly—the scholars had initially come with skepticism, but Slava was neither pretentious nor bureaucratic, and spoke fluently about Latvian history, mentioning his past experiences in the local area, which gradually eased the atmosphere.

After finishing their conversation, it was still early, and Slava was in high spirits, so he discussed with Director Nian about going for a walk on Fortress Hill in downtown Riga.

Accompanying him up the mountain was Boris Karlovic Pugo, the First Secretary of Latvia.

Fortress Hill is a slightly elevated hill in Riga, shaded by green trees, with a canal running through the city not far below. The group slowly walked up the hillside path, and Slava praised Latvia sincerely as they went—

The local culture is vibrant, the language beautiful, and the old buildings with their pointed roofs possess an indescribable refinement compared to those in Moscow. (To...)

In short, it's about praising the local ethnic culture to the fullest extent and providing plenty of emotional value.

After praising him for a while, Slava steered the conversation to business: "Boris Karlovic, tell me, how well is the Party's ethnic policy being implemented here? What's the real situation on the ground?"

Pugo is a pragmatic man, but as the first secretary of the region, there are some things he cannot say directly.

He carefully chose his words and gave Slava a relatively restrained account of the truth.

The economy has indeed improved. In the past two years, there has been a much greater variety of goods available than before, and people's lives have become visibly more comfortable.

But trouble is also brewing on the other side.

Pugo said that local students, under the call of some intellectuals, have recently taken to the streets to demonstrate, wanting to continue down Gorbachev's path of openness and transparency to the very end.

What they want is to expose everything that the CPSU has been hiding from the people all these years, without reservation!

Pugo leaned close to Slava and whispered, "These students' attacks were ultimately aimed at Comrade Stalin and the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact."

He brought up an incident that had just occurred. On June 14th, a Latvian human rights organization called "Helsinki-86" had taken the lead—they organized a flower-laying ceremony at the Freedom Monument in Riga to commemorate the victims of the mass expulsion on June 6, 1941.

Slava listened, then asked calmly, "Oh, so what do the local people think about this? And what about you? What do you think?"

Pugo's answer conveniently glossed over how the local people viewed the situation. As for his own opinion, he simply reverted to his usual watertight, official rhetoric—

The Party's ethnic policies are correct, and all ethnic groups are united. The instigation by a few people with ulterior motives does not represent the vast majority of the people.

Slava simply nodded after listening and didn't ask any further questions.

He knew perfectly well that the distance between the part Pugo skipped and the rhetoric he presented was precisely the true depth of the nation's ethnic issues.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

While Slava and his group were heading up the mountain, on the other side of Fortress Mountain, a group of college students on summer vacation were also climbing up the mountain, chatting and laughing.

As we walked, a fork in the road appeared ahead.

The girl at the front, named Katya, stopped, panting, under the blazing July sun.

"Hey, there are two roads here, which one should we take?"

The young man beside her was her brother, Seryozha. Seryozha turned to the local young man at the front of the group, who knew the place like the back of his hand, and asked:

"Hey Yannis, which way should we go?"

Yannis pointed ahead: "The scenery on the right is beautiful and easy to walk, I suggest we go there."

The path on the left is much more difficult and treacherous; I don't recommend taking it.

Upon hearing the word "dangerous," Seryozha's spirits rose. He stood beside his sister, puffing out his chest:

"We young people are full of energy! The most beautiful scenery is at the most dangerous peaks, so we'll charge forward wherever there's danger!"

Katya slapped her brother on the shoulder: "I agree with my brother!"

"Shall we take the dangerous route?" Seryozha asked.

Yannis waved his hand and said, "Forget it, let's take the beautiful one."

"Huh?" Seryozha was stunned.

Yannis turned to look at the road on the left and said, "Look at that road, there's not a soul in sight. It must be quite dangerous. You'd better be careful!"

Seryozha found it a bit strange: "No, this isn't like you, Comrade Yannis. Don't you love mountain climbing and exploration the most?"

Yannis smiled and reached out to pat the shoulder of the person next to him—it was Li Jianguo, a Chinese student who had come with the group.

“This is to take care of our socialist comrades from China,” Yannis laughed. “Let’s go to the right.”

Seryozha slapped his thigh: "Alright! We'll take the risky route, and you guys can take the easy one. Let's see who gets to the top first! Whoever gets there first gets to plant a red flag on the summit!"

The group split into two. Seryozala, carrying his sister, plunged into the dangerous, deserted path on the left, while Yannis led Li Jianguo and the others up the beautiful path on the right.

The brother and sister were climbing uphill, covered in sweat, when a few middle-aged men came down and walked past them, chatting as they went.

"...Why would General Secretary Ivanov come to this mountain?"

"...How could it be impossible! I just heard that the Party Secretary of Riga is also there, and I heard they're going to take a picture with the General Secretary today!"

Katya paused, tugging at her brother's sleeve: "Brother, did you hear that? They said General Secretary Ivanov is on the mountain?"

Seryozha strode forward and grabbed the middle-aged man: "Hey comrade! Did you just mention General Secretary Ivanov?"

"Yes!" the man replied, "The General Secretary is climbing the mountain ahead right now, you'd better hurry up and see him!"

Seryozha turned around and grabbed his sister's hand: "What are you standing there for! Chase after them! Haven't you been saying you wanted to meet the Alliance's new secretary all this time? Come on! Let's catch up!"

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

At the summit, Slava stood with his hands behind his back, gazing into the distance. Although Fortress Hill wasn't particularly high, from the top, almost the entire city of Riga was laid out before him—the spires of churches, the red tiles, and the canals that flowed through the city, all bathed in the afternoon sunlight.

“Great!” Slava exclaimed sincerely, turning to the Riga City Party Secretary beside him, “Standing here, the entire city’s scenery is laid out before you; it’s truly breathtaking!”

Director Nian followed beside him, holding a jacket in his hand. Slava had been climbing the mountain and was quite hot, so he took off his jacket halfway up, leaving him only in a vest. Now that he had reached the top, the mountain breeze made him feel a bit chilly.