Melissa frowned. "Well, yeah, but . . . Mike, it took centuries for that to evolve."
"I understand that—which is exactly why I advocate a complete separation of church and state. I'm just saying that I wouldn't lose much sleep if we wound up having to settle for a compromise. As long as non-established churches aren't persecuted, I can live with an established church." He leaned forward in his chair. "For sure and certain, better than I could live with what the Crown Loyalists propose to do with the other central political issue in the campaign. The question of citizenship."
Ed nodded. "Yes, that's really the big one."
"Can somebody explain this one to me?" asked Chad. "I have a grasp of the issue—sort of—but it's still fuzzy around the edges. We don't seem to have to deal with this problem much in our neck of the woods."
Ableidinger grinned. "That's because, between you Americans and we Ram folk, the issue got pretty well settled in practice in Thuringia and Franconia."
"It's not much of an issue in Magdeburg province either," said Gunther Achterhof. His grin was a lot thinner than Ableidinger's. "And it won't be, no matter who wins the election."
"The essence of the matter is this, Charles," said Rebecca. "In the world you came from—I speak of your old United States of America—being a 'citizen' of the nation was quite straightforward. If you were born in America, or became a naturalized citizen, that was the end of it. You were a citizen, pure and simple."
Chad nodded. "Pretty much. A lot of states had a provision to take away your citizenship—your right to vote, I should say—if you got convicted of a felony. But, other than that, yes."
"Here in the Germanies, on the other hand, it is far more complicated. To begin with, there is nothing equivalent to national citizenship. Insofar as 'citizenship' in concerned, it is a local matter. A man may reside and work in a given city or province, and yet not be a citizen. In practice, that means that he doesn't not enjoy a great number of protections—residency rights, for instance—nor is he entitled to charity or other support."
"Most Germans in the here and now," Mike interrupted, "are not really citizens of anything. They are 'German' in terms of language, custom, what have you. But they are not 'German' in any meaningful political sense of the term. And, if the Crown Loyalists have their way, that won't change in the future."
"I still don't get it," said Chad. "They have the right to vote in the coming national election. So how can they not be 'citizens'?"
Becky smiled. "Being a 'voter' and a 'citizen' are not the same thing. It's far more complicated. Let's take a lower class man—an apprentice carpenter, let's say—in . . . oh, Hamburg, for example. He can vote in the coming election for whichever candidate he wants for his House of Commons district. But that's it. He cannot vote for any of the officials of the city itself. That's because Hamburg is one of the dozen or so free imperial cities in the United States of Europe. For most purposes, it is a province of its own—of which he is not a citizen. He has no rights in Hamburg, not even residency rights. He is there on sufferance, essentially."
Jenkins scratched his head. "It's sort of like Jim Crow, then?"
Mike made a face. "Well . . . there are differences. But, yes, it's a lot closer than we'd like. In some ways, in fact, it's even worse. At least black people in the Jim Crow south had the theoretical right to vote, even if exercising the vote was stifled in practice. Here, though, a lot of people in Germany won't even theoretically be citizens, if the Crown Loyalists get their whole program enacted."
"Will they be able to?" asked Chad.
Ed shrugged. "Hell, you knows? Ask that question again after the election. It'll depend how many seats they wind up winning in the House of Commons. They'll completely dominate the Chamber of Princes, of course."
"Ed's fudging," said Mike. "This question of citizenship is the one big issue on which all the small parties are in solid agreement with the CLs. There are other issues—an established church, for instance, since some of the small parties are heavily Calvinist—that I think we might be able to block. But unless we win an outright majority in the Commons, which none of us expects to happen, then Wettin and his CLs will get that citizenship legislation passed."
"At which point," said Gunther Achterhof, "all hell breaks loose."
He didn't say that threateningly, or even with a scowl. Just . . . matter-of-factly.