novelnext Chapter 34 Wrestling in the Mud
Chapter 34 Wrestling in the Mud
In Pittsburgh's South Side, a brand-new sign hangs in front of a row of simple prefabricated houses made from white shipping containers.
"Pittsburgh Urban Renewal Commission Field Office".
This is Leo Wallace's current headquarters.
He moved his desk directly to the front line of the construction project.
He wore mud-covered overalls every day and ate cheap boxed lunches with the other workers on the construction site.
He personally supervised the paving progress of each road and personally inspected the quality of pipe repairs in each apartment building.
The Pittsburgh Renewal One project is progressing smoothly at an astonishing pace after clearing away all political obstacles.
Over the past two months, this community has undergone a complete transformation.
The bumpy road has been repaved with smooth asphalt.
The overgrown park has been transformed into a community activity center with a brand-new basketball court and children's playground facilities.
The old apartment building's exterior walls have been painted in bright colors.
More importantly, hundreds of steelworkers in this community who had been unemployed for years found new jobs.
They receive salaries no less than those of the union and build their homes with their own hands.
The name Leo Wallace was highly regarded among the working class in Pittsburgh.
He is no longer just a young man who posts videos online; he is a pragmatist who can bring real changes to everyone.
On a sunny afternoon, Leo was at the construction site, discussing the next phase of the construction plan with the project supervisor.
His phone rang; it was Congressman John Murphy calling personally.
The other person's tone was full of anxiety.
"Leo, we're in trouble," Murphy said bluntly.
"The latest primary polls are out, and my support and that damn radical kid Alex Cortez's support have entered the margin of error. I could be overtaken by him at any time."
Alex Cortes.
The young challenger who received support from the "American Democratic Socialists" organization.
Over the past month, he has used his enormous online influence to launch a fierce attack on Murphy.
He portrayed Murphy as an establishment figure detached from the masses, who had spent twenty years in the swamp of Washington and had long since become complicit with those interest groups.
"The worst part is," Murphy's voice was filled with anger, "that he actually called the two and a half million dollars in federal funds that I worked so hard to get for you a piece of bread crumbs."
He said that Pittsburgh needed a radical revolution, not to live off the charity of the Washington gentry.
"This bastard is using my achievements to attack me!"
"Leo, you must keep your promise immediately. I need you and your 'Heart of Pittsburgh' to campaign for me right now! I can't lose this primary!"
Leo hung up the phone, his brow furrowed.
His ally's election prospects are in dire straits; this is just the first problem he faces.
Another problem comes from the city hall.
After his initial setback, Mayor Cartwright began to attack Leo from another direction.
He can't stop Leo from spending money, but he can create obstacles in Leo's spending process.
In the past few weeks, Rio's project site has begun to experience frequent "routine inspections" from various municipal government departments.
A city fire department inspector might issue a stop-work order for rectification if a fire extinguisher on a construction site is placed in a way that does not comply with the latest regulations.
Officials from the city's Environmental Protection Administration may impose hefty fines on construction sites for "inadequate" dust control measures.
Bureaucrats in the city’s building permit office may delay issuing the next phase of the construction permit by citing “the need for additional technical materials.”
These inspections are always disguised as "legal and compliant".
But Leo knew very well that this was all Cartwright's doing behind the scenes.
He wanted to use this drastic measure to slow down Leo's project progress, deplete his funds and energy, and prevent him from achieving more outstanding results before the primaries.
For the first time, Leo felt the immense pressure of fighting on two fronts.
On one side are calls for help from allies, and on the other side is constant harassment from enemies.
That evening, Leo convened a meeting with his core team members in his simple prefab office.
Sarah, Frank, and Margaret.
"That's the situation," Leo told everyone, delivering the two pieces of bad news. "We have to fight on two fronts simultaneously."
Sarah was the first to offer her suggestion.
"We should immediately produce a new video to directly refute Cortez's remarks. We need to tell the citizens of Pittsburgh that this $2.5 million is not breadcrumbs, but the fruit of our fight, and at the same time, we need to clearly express our support for Representative Murphy."
Frank, on the other hand, proposed a ground-based combat plan.
"I don't know anything about campaigning, all I know is how to canvass for votes," Frank said. "Starting tomorrow, I'll mobilize all my union brothers to go door-to-door in Murphy's district, handing out flyers. We have to keep our legislator."
Leo took their advice and, in his mind, relayed the battle plan to Roosevelt.
He had expected Roosevelt's approval, but instead, he was met with a cold shower from his mentor.
"A naive, foolish plan doomed to failure."
Roosevelt's voice echoed in his mind.
"Kid, do you think politics is a debate competition where whoever makes the most sense wins? Do you think elections are an addition game where whoever hands out the most flyers wins?"
"You don't understand the politics of this country at all."
"Positive propaganda is certainly necessary, and ground mobilization is also essential," Roosevelt said. "But it's like a guard of honor and a military band on the battlefield; it looks impressive and grand, but it doesn't kill anyone."
"To win an election this close, you have to learn to use another weapon. An older, more effective, and dirtier one."
"What is it?" Leo asked curiously.
"Negative attacks"
Leo felt a little uncomfortable.
"You mean, we should fabricate some lies to smear Cortes?"
"No," Roosevelt immediately rejected him. "Fabricating lies is the lowest form of tactic, and it's easily exposed. What I mean by negative attack isn't teaching you to be a liar, but rather how to be a precise hunter."
"You need to learn to dig up and expose the real dirt on your opponents."
Roosevelt began to explain to Rioco the other side of American political struggle.
"When I was president, the director of the FBI was a man named Edgar Hoover. He served as director from the time of President Coolidge until the time of President Nixon, spanning eight presidents and holding that position for a full forty-eight years."
"Do you know why no president has ever dared to fire him? Because there's a secret filing cabinet in his office that everyone fears. That cabinet is filled with dirt on all the important people in Washington, from the affairs of members of Congress to the financial problems of Supreme Court justices—he knows everything."
"This isn't justice, Leo, but this is one of the most authentic ways power operates in this country."
"Now, let's return to the opponent before you."
"That young radical, Alex Cortez, packaged himself as the perfect political saint. He refused any political donations from big corporations, always stood with the poor, and his private life was impeccable."
"But you must remember, the more perfect a person presents themselves, the more likely they are to have a fatal weakness hidden in some inconspicuous corner."
"Because perfection is a lie in itself."
Leo fell silent.
He knew Roosevelt was right, but deep down he still felt resistant to such methods.
"So where should we start?" he asked instinctively.
"Don't investigate those baseless private scandals," Roosevelt advised. "Those things may attract attention, but they have limited impact and are likely to alienate voters."
"We need to start with two key areas: money and freedom of speech."
"First, investigate his finances. Go to the Federal Election Commission's official website and download all of his publicly available campaign finance reports since he announced his candidacy."
"Don't look at the records of large donations; he's smart enough not to leave any evidence there. What we should look at are the thousands upon thousands of small donations."
"You need to have Sarah organize a team to cross-reference the information of every donor who makes a donation of more than fifty dollars. See if there are any aliases hiding special identities among these seemingly ordinary donors."
"Are there any foundations that come from special interest groups, or non-profit organizations that use environmental protection as a front but have funding from energy companies behind them?"
"In the United States, there are so many legal loopholes in political donations that they're like a sieve. If you're patient enough, you can always find something interesting in those seemingly insignificant numbers."
"Second, examine his statements; this is called opponent research."
"You need to dig up all the articles and comments he's published since college, on the internet, in the school newspaper, and on various forums."
"It's normal for a person's thoughts to change over time and with experience, but a politician's past remarks can become his biggest stumbling block now."
"Look at his college days. Did he make any extremely immature remarks? Did he support policies he now opposes? Did he praise figures he's now attacking?"
"What we're looking for are these contradictions. Then, we package them into a political integrity report and throw it in front of all voters when you need it most."
Leo felt a chill run down his spine as he listened to Roosevelt's "dirty teachings".
This is completely contrary to his long-held belief in an upright and honorable political ideology.
"Mr. President, isn't this too despicable?" he asked.
Roosevelt's voice became serious.
"Son, let me emphasize again, this is not a gentlemanly debate held in a university debate team, this is a street fight in the mud."
"When your enemy is ready to stab your ally in the back with a sharp knife, are you still naively considering whether your boxing stance complies with the rules of fair play?"
Leo remained silent, his heart filled with struggle.
He felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, with the education he had received since childhood and the political ideals he believed in, the belief that truth becomes clearer through debate, and that justice will eventually prevail over evil.
On the other hand, there was the real political world Roosevelt revealed to him, a quagmire and traps, a cruel jungle where one had to dig up dirt on their opponents to survive.
"Mr. President, I still feel...this is wrong." Leo's voice was filled with pain. "I don't want to become the kind of person I hate most. If we use despicable means to achieve a noble goal, what difference is there between us and our enemies?"
Roosevelt's voice echoed in his mind, this time with a gentle tone.
"Child, do you think I was born to enjoy these dirty tricks? Do you think I enjoy having that Hoover fellow, with his little black ledger, like a watchdog, spying on my friends and enemies?"
"I'm telling you, my first thought after becoming president was to completely dismantle Hoover and his FBI. I hate him, I hate everything he represents, that kind of behavior of hiding in the shadows and trading other people's privacy for power, which is the thing I despise the most."
"But in the end, I didn't do that," Roosevelt said with a hint of helplessness in his voice.
"Because I soon discovered that my enemies—those Wall Street bankers, those racist Southern congressmen, those industrial oligarchs who wanted to drag America into the quagmire of fascism—were all using methods a hundred times dirtier than Hoover's."
"They bribed the media to spread rumors about my health; they hired private investigators to try to find scandals in my family's private lives; they even plotted a military coup to overthrow the elected government when I was facing the most difficult time in implementing my new policies."
"I realized that I was fighting a life-or-death battle with a pack of beasts who would stop at nothing to protect their own interests."
"Leo, in that situation, I needed a dog even fiercer than them to guard my yard. Edgar Hoover was the dog I chose."
Roosevelt paused, giving Leo time to process this brutal history.
"I'm telling you this story not so that you'll idolize Hoover, nor so that you'll glorify these dirty methods."
"I want to tell you the simplest truth: politics is, first and foremost, a game of survival. Before you can achieve any lofty ideals, you must first make sure you are not completely kicked off the table by your enemies."
"This is the situation you are facing now. Your enemies have started to use all sorts of underhanded tactics against you. They will use administrative approvals to stall your projects, use negative publicity to smear your reputation, and use money and power to buy off your allies."
"In such street fighting, if you still insist on using an outdated set of chivalrous dueling rules to judge yourself, then you are not noble, you are foolish, you are not defending your ideals, you are destroying them with your own hands."
Roosevelt's voice softened, yet it was full of power.
"Leo, I chose you because I saw the same flame in your heart as I do. But flame alone is not enough. You also need to learn how to protect that flame and not let it be extinguished by the storms of politics."
"Learning to use these weapons you don't like isn't about turning you into a bad person, but about enabling you to survive in this dirty world and live long enough to create a cleaner world with your own hands."
"That's the difference between us and them. They use these methods to protect their own ugly self-interest, while we use them to protect a greater goal."
Roosevelt's words unlocked the lock in Leo's heart.
He finally understood that this was not depravity, but a necessity for the fight.
Leo nodded.
He found Sarah, who was discussing campaign strategies with Frank.
"Sarah, I need your help," he said. "I need you to find a few absolutely reliable friends who are extremely skilled in data mining and information retrieval."
"We need to conduct a full background study on Mr. Alex Cortes."
Sarah stopped sketching out a map of the selected area on her notebook.
She looked up at Leo.
"Background research? Leo, what do you mean by background research?" Her voice was filled with confusion. "Do you mean... digging up dirt on him?"
Before Leo could answer, Frank next to him burst into laughter.
"Dirty stuff? Of course, dirty stuff!" Frank slammed his hand on the table. "This kid's finally got it! He should have done this a long time ago! Political elections are all about stripping your opponent bare!"
Sarah ignored Frank's profanity; her gaze remained fixed on Leo, her eyes filled with disappointment.
“Leo, I thought we were different from them,” she said. “The reason we have so much support is because we’re clean; we’ve earned trust through reason and action. If we start using these dirty tricks, how are we any different from Cartwright’s gang?”
Leo looked into Sarana's clear eyes, paused for a moment, and then spoke in an unprecedentedly serious tone.
"Sarah, look at me. Do you think I enjoy doing this? I hate it. I wish I could put all the scheming politicians in jail."
"But you also need to see our current situation clearly. How many shady methods has Cartwright used against us in the past? If it weren't for that anonymous meeting minutes, we wouldn't even be able to keep our community center now."
"Right now, Representative Murphy is our only line of defense in Washington. If he falls, our federal funding will be cut off immediately, all our ongoing community redevelopment projects will be halted immediately, and the workers who have finally managed to get back to work will be unemployed again."
He pointed out the window to the figures busy at the construction site.
"Everything we've done, all the hope we've brought to this community, will vanish overnight."
"Alex Cortez has packaged himself as a perfect saint, saying that the two and a half million dollars we brought in were just breadcrumbs. But what if he's not as perfect as he claims? What if his perfection is just a lie to win votes? The voters of Pittsburgh have the right to know what kind of person they are electing."
He took a step closer, lowering his voice even further.
"Sarah, we're not making up lies, we're just looking for the truth that he's deliberately hiding."
"This isn't just about helping Murphy; it's about protecting everything we've already won, it's about the future of Pittsburgh."
Sarah fell silent.
She couldn't refute Leo's words; she was simply having a hard time accepting the change emotionally.
Frank muttered something beside him.
"You can't fight the devil using the methods of angels."
Finally, Sarah took a deep breath.
"I understand." Her voice was weary. "I'll go find someone, but Leo, I hope you remember what you said today: we're just looking for the truth."
Leo watched Sarah's departing figure, his feelings a mix of emotions.
Politics is like wrestling in a quagmire.
No one is cleaner than anyone else.