The television studio was a deliberate statement. No gilded eagles, no soaring Kremlin halls. Just a man in a simple grey suit, Alexei Voronkov, sitting at a plain desk, looking tired, human, and serious. In the control room, Kirill and Dasha monitored the broadcast feed, their fingers flying across keyboards, hunting for any sign of a cyber-attack from the regime’s digital ghosts. The entire country was holding its breath.
Voronkov looked directly into the camera, into the living rooms and kitchens of a stunned and fearful nation. He began not with promises, but with an acknowledgment of their terror.
“For a generation,” he said, his voice calm and steady, “we have lived under a system of plunder. A system that enriched a few at the expense of the many. I know that many of you now fear what comes next. Some believe the only alternative is a return to the failed ideologies of the last century. To mass seizures, to state control, to the punishment of success. They are wrong. We will not replace one form of tyranny with another. This will not be a witch hunt. It will be a reckoning of a different, and a better, kind.”
In his dacha, Viktor Orlov watched the screen, a glass of single malt in his hand. His entire fortune, his very life, hung on the next words. He had bet everything on Voronkov being a pragmatist, not a Bolshevik.
Voronkov’s gaze seemed to intensify, as if he were looking past the camera and into the eyes of every ordinary citizen. “For too long,” he continued, “you have been told that the vast natural wealth of our land—our oil, our gas, our minerals—belongs to the state, or to the corporations that the state licenses. This is a fundamental lie. That wealth does not belong to the state. It belongs to you. You are the citizens of Russia. You are the owners.”
He let the revolutionary simplicity of that idea hang in the air for a moment.
“Therefore, effective immediately, my first act as the head of the provisional government is to institute the National Prosperity Dividend. A significant portion of the profits from the sale of our national resources will no longer disappear into a labyrinth of state budgets and offshore accounts. It will be paid directly to you, the citizens of Russia, every single month. This is not a gift from the government. This is not a handout. It is your rightful share, as a citizen-owner of this great land.”
Then, he turned his attention, his voice becoming hard and clear, to men like Orlov. “To our business leaders, I say this: the era of plunder is over. But the era of enterprise is just beginning. Work with us. Build a new, transparent, and prosperous Russia, and you will have a stable and profitable future. Fight us, try to return to the old ways, and you will find you have no future at all. The bargain is simple. Build for Russia, and you can build for yourself. Build only for yourself, and you will be left with nothing.”
He finished by looking back into the camera, his expression one of weary but determined hope. “The choice is ours. A future of shared prosperity, or a past of shared ruin. I believe in our people. I believe we will choose wisely. Thank you, and God bless Russia.”
The broadcast ended.
Viktor Orlov stared at the blank screen, a slow, thin smile of pure, unadulterated relief spreading across his face. He raised his glass in a silent toast. It was brilliant. A masterstroke. A bargain he could not only live with, but one he could champion.
In her small office, helping to coordinate humanitarian aid, Elena Petrova allowed herself a small, genuine smile. It was the first time she had heard a leader speak of the Russian people not as a resource to be exploited, but as owners to be respected.
And in a thousand grim, concrete apartment blocks across the country, families stared at their televisions in stunned silence. A father looked at his wife, a flicker of something he hadn’t felt in years in his eyes. It wasn’t belief. Not yet. It was something far more fragile, and far more powerful. The possibility of hope.
Section 32.1: The Psychological Pivot: "Citizen-Owner" vs. "Ward of the State"
Voronkov’s speech is a masterclass in political psychology, centered on a single, revolutionary pivot in language. Traditional welfare systems, whether socialist or capitalist, frame the citizen as a recipient or a ward of the state—a person to be "cared for" with handouts or a "safety net." The "National Prosperity Dividend" reframes the relationship entirely. By describing the payments as a "rightful share" and the citizen as an "owner," the policy transforms the public’s relationship with the nation's wealth. It is no longer a plea for charity from a powerful state, but a demand for a dividend from a shared enterprise. This is a profound shift in mindset that fosters a sense of ownership, empowerment, and a vested interest in the nation's success, rather than a sense of dependency.
Section 32.2: The "Grand Bargain" as Modern Statecraft
The speech is not an act of class warfare; it is a "Grand Bargain" that represents a sophisticated form of modern statecraft. Voronkov deftly navigates the treacherous post-revolutionary landscape by offering a clear, compelling deal to the two most powerful, and potentially antagonistic, forces in his new society: the oligarchs and the masses. To the oligarchs, he offers not a guillotine, but a path to legitimate, stable, and predictable future profits, conditional on their participation in a transparent system. To the masses, he offers not a vague promise of future prosperity, but a direct, tangible, and immediate share in the nation's wealth. This strategy effectively isolates the hardline rejectionists, leaving them with no significant constituency to rally to their cause.
Section 32.3: Economic Theory: Distributism vs. Socialism
The economic philosophy underpinning the Dividend is not traditional socialism, which advocates for state ownership and control of the means of production. Instead, it aligns more closely with the principles of Distributism or Universal Basic Income (UBI) models, specifically those funded by resource revenues (a "sovereign wealth fund for the people"). The goal is not the abolition of private enterprise, but the widest possible distribution of ownership and capital. The policy tacitly accepts the efficiency of the oligarchs' businesses in extracting resource wealth, but radically alters the social contract regarding the distribution of the profits from that extraction. It is a pragmatic hybrid, attempting to harness the dynamism of private enterprise while achieving the societal stability and equity goals of a more socialized system.