Chapter 48: That Time I Handed Out National IDs in South America. (2)

TL: Skye

Darkness had settled over the night sky.

But Publica Street, where nearly every government ministry was clustered together, blazed with light as if it were the middle of the day.

The massive undertaking known as the Resident Registration Project had come crashing down from the Presidential Palace, striking every ministry like a hammer.

"Come on, people, get your heads on straight! His Excellency is watching!"

The first screams erupted from the Ministry of Internal Affairs.

As the lead ministry on the project, the place looked like an actual war zone.

"Have you finished the population survey for District 3?"

"Not yet, sir! The field agents are going door to door, but more than half the residences are empty..."

"Are you stupid?! Then go at night! People sleep at home, don't they?!"

"Then when do we get off work..."

"His Excellency gave the order and you're worried about clocking out?! Do you all want to be dragged off to the plantations?!"

At the Bureau of Statistics director's roar, the staff scrambled to grab their radios and rushed out the door.

The other ministries were no better off.

"What? There are students not on the registry?"

Sergio grabbed the back of his neck as he read the report handed to him.

"Yes... well, there are children who don't attend school, and conversely, there are children attending school who were never even registered at birth, so..."

"Then you need to compile the list and hand it over to Internal Affairs! You think you can just sit on your hands because it's not our problem?!"

The Ministry of Education officials pulled an all-nighter compiling student records.

Meanwhile, the Ministry of Construction and Housing and the Ministry of Labor joined forces to tear through every construction site.

"Hey! Stop work over there!"

"What's going on?"

"Orders came down to shut down construction indefinitely if you've got unverified workers on the payroll."

"Come on, this is a labor site, where does that kind of rule even... And what are we supposed to do about people who were never registered in the first place?"

"Shut it! Then go get registered and come back!"

The Ministry of Defense had it slightly easier, at least.

Enlistment was impossible without being registered in the first place.

And amid all this chaos, Ricardo from the Ministry of Finance sat there laughing to himself.

"Heh heh heh... once you identify the people, you identify the tax base, and once you identify the tax base, the treasury gets fat."

The cause of all this commotion was singular.

It was all to build the perfectly managed nation His Excellency desired.

And so, after a full, grueling week, the civil servants of San Marcos poured out every last ounce of their souls, and the result was complete.

"Everything is ready."

The report Isabella presented had real weight to it.

[Administrative Computer Network: setup complete.]

[Temporary National ID Card issuance centers: 12 locations installed throughout Libertad.]

[Fingerprint registration equipment and personnel: deployment complete.]

"Every ministry worked around the clock to carry out Your Excellency's will."

"They must have had a rough time. I should give them bonuses or something."

"They merely did their duty as civil servants."

Yu-jin smiled warmly at Isabella's modest reply.

At this pace, it was barely any slower than how things would have gone in Korea.

"Well, it looks like preparations are more or less done... Let's get started right away."

"Understood. I will issue the order to commence immediately."

And so, the next morning.

Temporary tents bearing banners that read "National ID Card Issuance Center" went up at key locations throughout Libertad, starting with City Hall Plaza.

"What's all this?"

"National ID Cards?"

Passing citizens peered curiously around the tents.

Inside the tents, uniformed officials sat alongside computers and fingerprint scanners, all displayed with great ceremony.

"Step right up! Form a line! Every last person must receive their ID card!"

At the official's megaphone announcement, people shuffled forward hesitantly.

The first to muster the courage was Jose, a fruit vendor from the market.

"So, do I get paid for this?"

"No."

"Then do I at least get bread?"

"No."

"Then why the hell should I do it? I'm busy enough as it is."

Jose's grumbling voice set the surrounding citizens murmuring as well.

"Yeah, what a hassle."

"Why does the government want to take my fingerprints?"

"Isn't this just a scheme to squeeze more taxes out of us?"

"I already have an ID, don't I?"

Just as the mood was starting to turn, the middle-aged official sitting at the registration desk pushed his glasses up his nose and spoke.

"You asked what's in it for you?"

"W-well, yeah..."

The official glanced around once, then spoke in a hushed, solemn voice, as if he were leaking a state secret.

"This National ID Card, you see... it is not a mere identification document. The moment you receive it, you will be entered into the national registry, and..."

He paused for dramatic effect.

"...you will receive the protection of His Excellency."

"...!"

A hush fell over the plaza.

"H-His Excellency's... protection?"

"That is correct. No matter where you are in this country, once you register your fingerprints and receive your National ID Card, it means His Excellency himself will watch over you. But if you choose not to..."

The official trailed off and gave a casual shrug.

"...it means you will not be recognized as a citizen of San Marcos."

Everyone fell silent.

Who was His Excellency?

The man who had torn the gangs apart, swept out the rotten politicians, educated the children, and struck oil. The living legend of San Marcos.

He had even recently stood shoulder to shoulder with the president of the world's greatest superpower, the United States.

If receiving that man's protection cost nothing more than ten fingerprints, who would hesitate? They'd register their DNA if they could.

"I-I'm going first!"

"Move! I want His Excellency's protection too!"

"We need to register our kids too! Hey, go get your little brothers and sisters, quick!"

"ID cards are only issued to those eighteen and older! Children just need to complete their resident registration!"

The lukewarm reactions from moments ago vanished without a trace, and the plaza instantly descended into pandemonium as people scrambled to receive His Excellency's protection.

***

While crowds flooded every corner of Libertad to get their National ID Cards, I was in my office with a full map of San Marcos spread out before me.

Libertad, the capital, showed impressively high numbers of issued ID cards, but the figures for everywhere else had barely budged.

"The government's reach doesn't extend to the provinces at all."

"No. It's practically a state of anarchy out there."

Isabella's report was blunt.

San Marcos's rural areas, unlike Libertad, consisted of scattered villages, and the people living there went about their lives barely aware that a national government even existed.

No roads, no running water, no electricity, no law enforcement. If you told people who received none of the state's services to register and pay a 10% income tax?

'Honestly, even I'd grab a pitchfork.'

Who in their right mind would hand over hard-earned money for nothing?

As a result, the central government had almost no idea how many people lived in the provinces or what the population makeup looked like.

"But that changes now."

I tapped my finger on the empty spaces of the map.

"The rural population will want the services the state can provide."

"Services, you say...?"

"Education."

San Marcos's officially recorded birth rate was a staggering 4.0 children per woman, among the highest in the world.

It was likely a reflection of a society where labor was wealth, but for us, it was an opportunity.

"No parent wants to pass down the same life they've lived to their children. That's just how parents are."

In fact, one of the key reasons the demand projections had failed during the last education reform was the influx of students from the provinces.

That alone proved how much parents saw education as a great asset they could pass on to their children.

I was living proof. My parents, who passed away when I was in my second year of high school, had scraped by on a tight budget, cutting back on their own food and clothing to pour everything they had into my education.

Thanks to them, I never fell behind, and I made it into Hankuk University.

'They probably never imagined I'd end up doing politics in South America, though.'

Regardless, a parent's heart is universal across all nations. The desire for their children to live comfortably instead of scraping by in the dirt... that was exactly the nerve I needed to hit.

"However, it's not realistically easy for rural families to send their children to study in Libertad. Housing is expensive and living costs aren't trivial either. In practice, most students from the provinces are either children of local elites or have relatives living in Libertad."

She wasn't wrong.

'Renting a place and sending a kid to school is no small feat. They'd be worrying about putting food on the table, too.'

That was why I had prepared for this.

"Let's build dormitories."

Korean-style welfare benefits.

Ever heard of a Regional Public Dormitory?

It's a publicly operated dormitory run by local governments to ease the burden on parents and students by providing food and housing for a minimal fee.

I intended to apply that system to San Marcos.

Completely free of charge.

"Dormitories, Your Excellency?"

"Yes. Large-scale dormitories capable of housing students from the provinces. We provide room and board so they can focus entirely on their studies. With one condition: only those whose parents and they themselves have completed resident registration."

"That would require a considerable budget."

"Once the Resident Registration Project is complete, income tax revenue will increase noticeably. And besides..."

Sure, it would cost a fortune. But.

"We're an oil-producing nation, aren't we? If we take the windfall from selling oil and invest it in the nation's future, there's no better way to spend it."

Convinced it was a flawless plan, I allowed myself a satisfied grin, but Isabella's reaction was not what I expected.

"Your Excellency, I'm afraid this time, even that won't be enough."

"Why not?"

Isabella hesitated with a troubled expression before speaking.

"Because the plantation owners will oppose it."

"Ah..."

Her point brought back a fact I had briefly forgotten.

"Right."

The majority of the rural population earned their living as day laborers on massive coffee plantations.

The plantations were so vast that it was commonplace for an entire village to be tied to a single one.

Naturally, this created total economic dependence, and the plantation owners wielded power in their villages that went far beyond mere employers; they were feudal lords in all but name.

Think of a European medieval nobleman granted a manor and the serfs beneath him. That was roughly the picture.

"The plantation owners will fight tooth and nail against resident registration. If they and their workers register, their income gets tracked and the scale of their operations becomes transparent. They'll undoubtedly threaten their workers not to register."

And the most galling part...

"They're farming on state-owned land for free, and they still pull this."

Every last acre those plantations sat on was state-owned land.

San Marcos had never had a concept of private land ownership to begin with.

People had simply hired workers and equipment, bulldozed empty land, and set up plantations to make a living.

The reason the government had never done anything about it was simple.

From the government's perspective, land outside Libertad was considered worthless.

It was idle land anyway. If someone cleared it and exported coffee beans, the government could at least collect tariffs. So they looked the other way.

"This just got a lot more complicated than I expected."

What I'd thought was a straightforward project of handing out ID cards had turned out to be, once I peeled back the layers, a war against entrenched rural power brokers.

"The resistance will be fierce. They might even go into hiding and wait it out. It might be wiser to complete registration for Libertad citizens first, then gradually expand outward."

That was certainly the safer approach. Especially with administrative capacity already stretched thin.

But.

"No."

I shook my head.

"When you do it, you do it all at once. There can't be a situation where some people pay taxes and others don't."

Honestly, wasn't that absurd? Earning money and not paying taxes.

'In 2025, no less.'

That wasn't going to fly.

"Let's use this opportunity to sweep away the old rot once and for all."

"Understood. I will discuss strategies with the senior secretaries."

Isabella nodded, her eyes hard with resolve.

*****

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