Failing to pin down the main French forces, Hutier and the others also lost interest in pursuing the Egyptian colonial troops. After the battle ended, the Eighth Division immediately launched a large-scale conscription campaign. In just a week, the Eighth Division’s size tripled, with all able-bodied men in the surrounding area being conscripted. Fortunately, they still had some conscience and didn’t go as far as bandits, drafting women, children, and the elderly as cannon fodder. The massive army marched grandly along the Nile River, ignoring the cities along the way and instead targeting rural plantations. While destroying estates, they also recruited enslaved Egyptians into the ranks and spread the idea of national independence. Thanks to their strategy of bullying the weak and avoiding the strong, the Eighth Division advanced smoothly, swelling rapidly like a rolling snowball. In contrast, the progress of the main rebel forces was much slower. Unlike Hutier and his group who came and went, the rebel leadership had bigger ambitions. Wanting to become warlords, they naturally needed territory. Mahdi, the movement’s leader, could no longer hold things together, and major factions began scrambling for land. Some even resorted to infighting over territory. If not for the continued threat of the French, the rebels might have already splintered. To keep the rebel forces united against the coming French counterattack, Lieutenant General Jarrett had to step in multiple times to mediate between the various factions. However, chaos was inevitable. The rebel forces were made up of a highly complex mix of factions, and internal conflicts were endless. It was only the looming threat of the French that kept their fragile unity barely intact. As the leader of the uprising, Mahdi was deeply dissatisfied with this situation. Yet the earlier incident of blowing up the Aswan Dam had severely damaged his reputation within the rebel ranks. If it weren’t for British support, it was uncertain whether he could even hold onto his position as the top leader. By this point, if Mahdi still didn’t realize he had been played by the British, then he wouldn’t have earned the fierce reputation that history remembers him for. Once again, reality proved that one can take on any burden except being the scapegoat. Branded as ruthless and merciless, Mahdi had a hard time attracting new followers. No one felt comfortable siding with a leader who could betray his own men at any moment. As a result, the rebel army’s second-in-command, Rethenis, directly led his own forces toward the Nile River Valley, planning to carve out his own territory. There was nothing Mahdi could do to stop it. Although he had won the first round of the counter-insurgency war, his political standing had taken a major hit. With no real structure to hold it together, the rebel army, built solely on personal charisma, was a loose coalition from the start. Left with no other choice, Mahdi also joined the scramble for land. This deeply frustrated Lieutenant General Jarrett, who had wanted to lead a direct campaign against the heart of the enemy. At the rebel headquarters, Lieutenant General Jarrett spoke with solemn authority: “Gentlemen, the crisis has only just begun. We are far from the time to savor victory. The French will not accept defeat. It won’t be long before they regroup, and when they do, we will no longer be facing disorganized colonial militias. The title of ‘World’s Finest Army,’ I trust you’ve all heard of it, was not earned through French boasting, but forged in battle, blade by blade, shot by shot. We won this fight by luck, but the same tactics will not work twice. Having been fooled once, the French won’t fall for it again. What lies ahead is a struggle unlike any we’ve faced before. To gain the upper hand, we must first seize here.” Following the tip of Jarrett’s baton, all eyes turned unsurprisingly to Cairo. The ancient city, with its political, economic, and military significance, was crucial to the rebels’ survival. Only by taking Cairo could they hope to carve out a chance for independence from the French. A middle-aged man asked skeptically, “Lieutenant General, hasn’t the Eighth Division already advanced on Cairo?” In his view, the French forces in Cairo had been severely depleted in recent battles and were now at their weakest, utterly incapable of stopping the Eighth Division. Jarrett shook his head. “Essen, you’re being too optimistic. Cairo is nothing like the small towns you’ve encountered. In truth, our swift progress owes less to rebel strength and more to the fact that the French in those minor settlements were terrified, failing to mount any meaningful resistance. Cairo is different. It’s the heart of Egypt so the French will never relinquish it without a fight. News of our earlier victories has surely reached them by now. I’d wager the remaining French forces have already rallied a new garrison. Without heavy artillery, the Eighth Division storming a fortified Cairo is nothing but a pipe dream.” Frankly, Jerrett held some grudging admiration for the Austrian-led Eighth Division. Whether it was raiding cotton plantations along their route or pushing toward the Delta, their actions aligned perfectly with British interests. From the current situation, Egypt’s cotton output was poised to plummet this year and unlikely to recover for years to come. For British textile enterprises, this was undeniably the best news. As competitors falter under dwindling raw material supplies and collapsing production, the moment to dominate the market has come. Though Jarrett hadn’t orchestrated this outcome, he saw no harm in claiming credit. Politics, after all, thrived on quid pro quo. As the architect of Egypt’s rebellion, he’d return home to a shower of rewards from British industry—financial, political, or both. The man stood to gain immensely. Urging the rebels to assault Cairo was merely one piece of Jarrett’s scheme. Ideally, he hoped to push them toward the Suez Canal or better yet, to blockade it. Such chaos would grant Britain the perfect pretext to “protect maritime freedom” and entrench its influence over the strategic waterway. … Capital markets proved ruthlessly perceptive. News of France’s setbacks in Egypt sent textile stocks in Paris into freefall. Many companies tied to Egyptian plantations collapsed outright. The storm clouds gathered. Within a week, the Paris stock exchange plunged 11.4%, erasing billions of francs in market value. Simultaneously, global cotton prices experienced severe fluctuations and on the London’s futures market, prices surged by a third. Under this double assault, France’s cotton industry faced its darkest winter. The sharp reduction in raw material supplies forced countless businesses to announce layoffs and production cuts. Unemployment soared overnight, plunging the French economy into renewed turmoil. Though Napoleon IV had braced himself for this outcome, the reality struck him like a blow to the gut, as though the world had shifted beneath his feet. Bitter as it was, solutions had to be found. A new economic crisis, he knew, could unravel the very foundations of his rule, a lesson seared into him by the fires of the Paris Revolution. “With the domestic economy deteriorating, what plans does the Ministry of Economy propose?” After a measured pause, Minister of Economy Ezra replied cautiously, “The current turmoil stems primarily from Egypt’s rebellion, which has devastated cotton production. Compounding this, drought in North America has further slashed global cotton yields. A surge in international cotton prices is inevitable. The Ministry of Economic Affairs recommends temporarily suspending cotton import tariffs to lower raw material costs for textile firms, coupled with low-interest loans to help them weather the storm.” Would tariff cuts suffice? The answer, unspoken yet clear, was no. The global cotton shortage meant some companies would inevitably fail to secure adequate raw materials. In the world of capital, precedence mattered. Cotton wholesalers, when faced with comparable prices, would always prioritize reliable, long-standing clients. Many of these supply relationships had endured for decades, if not generations, making them nearly unshakable for newcomers. Most of these entrenched buyers were based in Britain. France’s textile industry, a relative latecomer, had only flourished after seizing Egypt’s cotton fields. Unless French firms paid exorbitant premiums, they stood little chance of procuring enough cotton on the international market. Foreseeing this, many French manufacturers had preemptively announced layoffs and production cuts even before exhausting their reserves to brace for the looming crisis. Foreign Minister Terence Bourquin warned, “It’s not that straightforward. International cotton merchants aren’t fools. They won’t miss this chance to extort us. If I had to guess, they’ll leverage this crisis to demand that France permanently abolish cotton import tariffs.” Those very tariffs had been the linchpin of France’s domestic cotton plantation economy. By imposing steep duties, the government had rendered cheaper foreign cotton uncompetitive in French markets, allowing local plantation owners to reap staggering profits. Driven by profit motives, the number of capitalists investing in cotton plantations had surged in recent years, allowing France to achieve near self-sufficiency in cotton. This, however, came at the expense of overseas cotton growers and wholesalers, who eyed the French market with covetous frustration. Under normal circumstances, such grievances mattered little as France’s might dwarfed these disgruntled interests. But now, with its cotton supply chain fractured, the empire had no choice but to turn to the global market. Minister of Economic Affairs Ezra objected, “Abolishing cotton tariffs is unthinkable. Without profit incentives, domestic capitalists would never invest in plantations. Moreover, this isn’t solely about cotton and it sets a precedent. Once we concede here, demands to dismantle tariffs in other sectors will follow. For the foreseeable future, France must maintain protective tariffs to shield its fledgling industries.” Her argument held weight, validated by past economic crises. Competing globally remained beyond France’s current capacity. Minister of Finance Roy Vernon added, “There’s more. Our foreign exchange reserves have plummeted. Procuring cotton internationally now would drain reserves already at critical lows. As of today, we hold 31.876 million pounds, 65.423 million guilders, and smaller sums in other currencies, totaling approximately 1.78 billion francs.” Since the gunfire of the Paris Revolution, the French economy had languished in chronic trade deficits. Tariff barriers had briefly restored balance, but the respite proved fleeting with deficits now looming anew. Prolonged capital outflow stifled national growth, and reversing the trade imbalance became an urgent priority for the French government. Minister of Economic Affairs Ezra concurred, “The Marquis is correct. To revive our economy, we must escape this trade deficit quagmire. Increasing exports is not a viable short-term solution. Even without foreign tariffs, our industrial goods lack global competitiveness. For now, the priority is curbing foreign exchange outflows. Our major imports are grain and coal. Domestic coal production falls short, and no large deposits have been found in North Africa. The only large mine under our control lies in distant Indochina. Its output barely meets local needs, let alone justifies exorbitant transport costs. Self-sufficiency is impossible here. The solution lies in grain. Algeria, Tunisia, and Morocco all boast arable regions capable of meeting domestic demand if developed. However, low returns on agricultural investment deter private capital. This must be state-led. This is not a bad thing. With careful planning, we can achieve grain self-sufficiency without harming local farmers, saving foreign reserves, undermining European rivals, and ensuring our food security.” Since proposing the African Agricultural Development Initiative, Ezra had become a vocal advocate for the policy, continuously extolling its benefits. Of course, this was merely the public perception. In reality, Ezra’s fervor was born more out of necessity than conviction. Exiting the free trade system came with both advantages and drawbacks. While France gained certain benefits, it also had to shoulder the policy’s negative consequences. The imposition of high tariffs triggered retaliatory restrictions from other nations, leading to a sharp decline in exports for French industries and commerce. These were minor issues, however. Through trade protectionism, international competitors were driven out, and the market share retained in the domestic sphere was enough for capitalists to offset their losses. But France remained heavily reliant on imported industrial raw materials. The Great African Development Strategy, initiated years earlier, had been the French government’s attempt to reduce this external dependency. Though underfunding slowed progress in North Africa, the results were deemed somewhat successful. France had achieved near self-sufficiency in several cash crops, such as cotton, and significantly reduced import demands for others. Yet this was insufficient. Not all resources could be sustainably secured internally. Coal and grain remained critical vulnerabilities. For non-renewable coal, Ezra could do little. Confronting the trade deficit, he turned instead to the solvable issue: grain. *** https://postimg.cc/gallery/PwXsBkC (Maps of the current territories of the countries in this novel made by ScH)
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