For Franz, there would always be problems to deal with. The trick was simple: as long as you ignored them, they stopped being problems. France was in chaos again, and while the media treated it as a sensational headline, to the Holy Roman Empire it was barely worth a sneeze. Since the Russians had caused the mess, it was only fair to let the Russian government clean it up themselves. The Empire had no troops stationed in France anyway, so even if the French and Russians slaughtered each other until the streets ran red, Austria would not be in any hurry. The only real inconvenience was the potential backlash from international opinion. But times had changed. As the undisputed leader of the European Alliance, the Austrian government had grown much tougher when it came to taking the heat. And besides, it was not the Holy Roman troops who caused the trouble. Even if criticism came, the worst they could be accused of was “inaction.” Inaction was not a crime. A glance at modern history showed that the Austrian government’s habit of staying out of things had been going on for years. To the governments of Europe, a proactive Austria was far more terrifying than a passive one. If the Austrian government decided to meddle in everything, the European Alliance would not be half as stable as it was now. It was the same logic as in the modern world. If the American government suddenly stopped meddling in global affairs, most countries would celebrate instead of complaining about America’s lack of action. Criticism for “inaction” usually came only from those who were used to constant interference. When you involved yourself in every trivial matter but retreated when things got serious, people naturally called you out for shirking responsibility. Although the French unrest showed signs of escalating, it was still far from unmanageable. Austria’s decision to hold back and let the Russians handle it made perfect sense, at least from the perspective of the Holy Roman Empire and other neutral parties with no stake in the situation. But the same could not be said for the French and Russians, who were trapped in the middle of the storm. Without Austria stepping in to mediate, both governments found themselves cornered. Compromise? If King Carlos dared to give in, the French people would not hesitate to replace him. Failing to confront the enemy with strength was already humiliating enough. If the government could not even muster a symbolic resistance, how could it prove that it stood with its own people? The French government had no choice but to hold its ground, leaving the Russian government in an awkward position. Nicholas II had only just ascended the throne and barely had time to adjust to the absolute power that came with it, and now he was hit with this mess. There was no point in trying to assign blame. Any real investigation would almost certainly end in embarrassment. According to the Russian command in France, the entire affair was supposedly a French conspiracy—a deliberate provocation meant to stir up conflict between the Russian troops and local civilians, which then spiraled out of control. Whether others believed that or not, Nicholas certainly did not. A French plot might have played a role, but it was obvious that no mere conspiracy could have caused such a disaster. Unfortunately, the damned journalists had documented everything. The atrocities of the Russian troops were caught on camera, and the photos had already made it into the papers. No amount of damage control could wash that away. To make matters worse, someone even mailed Nicholas a film reel of the incidents complete with a polite letter pleading with him to put an end to the Russian army’s brutality. Letters were one thing, but Nicholas II had already received countless similar ones. If he gathered them all together, they could probably fill several train cars. No exaggeration, if he lived in the twentieth century, Nicholas II could have made a middle-class living just by selling the piles of wastepaper from all the letters he received every day. Especially in recent times, nearly every well-known figure across Europe had written to him. The polite ones tried to persuade him tactfully, while the blunt ones simply scolded him outright. Fortunately, Nicholas II had good self-control. If it had been another, more thin-skinned tsar, he might have sent men to silence these loudmouthed critics. However, even the best composure could not withstand the shock brought by the “short film.” If not for the distance, Nicholas II would have summoned the commander stationed in Paris immediately and shown him exactly what “a harsh reprimand” meant. He had seen stupidity before, but never anything this absurd. Being secretly photographed by reporters could still be barely excused, but being filmed on-site for a documentary was beyond forgiveness. The cameras of that era were hardly small toys. With such bulky equipment recording beside them, the Russian soldiers on the scene had done nothing to stop it. Nicholas II could not even find words strong enough to express his outrage. In short, these film materials were extremely damaging to the Russian government. After behaving themselves for over a decade and finally managing to squeeze back into Europe’s circle of “civilized” nations, Russia was now about to be kicked out again. The labels of “barbaric” and “brutal” were stuck fast, and the Russian Empire could forget about shaking them off anytime soon. The international reputation painstakingly built during the reign of Alexander III was now completely ruined in a single moment. Fortunately, the footage was blurry, making it impossible to clearly identify the Russian officers and soldiers involved. Otherwise, Nicholas II would have personally sent those fools straight to meet God. The situation was already a mess, and assigning blame could wait. What mattered now was cleaning it up. The joint headquarters, controlled by the Austrian government, directly ordered the Russian forces stationed in Paris to handle the problem themselves. Whether the Russian government liked it or not, they now had no choice but to face it head-on. … Saint Petersburg In the Winter Palace, Nicholas II sat at the head of the chamber, his expression dark. In a cold tone, he said, “What happened in France has seriously damaged our international image. To repair the damage and protect the interests of the Russian Empire, we must now take decisive measures…” Clearly, Nicholas II still did not understand the main issue. “International image” was not something that could be repaired once broken. Restoring it was not impossible, but it certainly could not be done in a short time. Rather than fixating on the empire’s reputation, it would be far wiser to focus on stabilizing the situation in France. Those were the kind of interests that were real and tangible. Pobedonostsev stepped forward and reminded him, “Your Majesty, the joint headquarters has granted us full authority over French affairs. The most urgent task now is to stabilize Paris. As for investigating those responsible, that can wait until order is restored.” (Author’s Note: Pobedonostsev was Nicholas II’s private tutor, advisor, and head of the Department of Orthodox Affairs) There was no other choice. The joint command had granted the Russian forces stationed in Paris full authority to handle the situation. On the surface, it seemed like a gesture of trust, but in truth, it was a way of making the Russian government clean up its own mess. The trouble had been caused by the Russian troops in France, and now that the situation was spiraling out of control, the Russian government could not escape responsibility no matter how hard it tried. What made things worse was that the cleanup had to be done beautifully. If not, the other allied nations, those who had suffered collateral damage from this mess, would soon come knocking for trouble. It was not even a matter of fear. The real issue was that everyone was eating from the same pot, and cooperation was still necessary. If relations were strained, the Russian garrison in France would find itself in an even worse position. To be blunt, if the French people completely rebelled, the Russian troops stationed there simply did not have the strength to keep order. Because of the distance, the Russian Empire could not send reinforcements in time, even if it wanted to. They would have to rely on the strength of their allies. Individually, each country’s power might be limited, but combined, the dozen or so nations of the alliance were not much weaker than the Russian Empire itself. Minister of Finance Sergei Witte spoke up, “The Director is right. The situation no longer allows us to delay. The Austrian government has made it clear they have no intention of getting involved. The French government has practically gone on strike. From this point forward, every expense we make in France will have to come out of our own pockets. The longer we delay, the greater the empire’s losses will be. To resolve the matter as soon as possible, I propose that we immediately send a delegation to Paris. They will investigate the cause of the incident and coordinate with the French government. “No matter what, we must first calm them down. Only once the French government resumes its work can social order be restored.” It was not that Sergei Witte opposed the idea of using force. The problem was that the situation in France had grown far too complicated for violence to solve anything. If they wanted to eliminate the people causing the unrest, the Russian troops stationed in France did not have the strength to do so. Considering the strain on the treasury, the Russian government could not possibly send hundreds of thousands of soldiers to carry out a massive purge. Since brute force was off the table, diplomacy was the only option left. Besides, France was a defeated nation and already in a weaker position from the start. Foreign Minister Mikhailovich frowned, “That may be easier said than done. The French government’s strike and protests have one main demand: they want us to withdraw our troops from Paris. But that is precisely the one concession we can never make. Without our garrison, how would we guarantee the payment of war reparations? And without that presence, how would we protect the empire’s interests in France? Even if we set those aside, we must also consider the stance of our fellow anti-French allies. If the empire were to unilaterally compromise with the French, we would only put ourselves in an extremely awkward position.” The Foreign Ministry could not simply refuse. Its capacity was limited. Trying to talk the French down with mere rhetoric was an impossible task. The Russian government’s bottom line lay plainly on the table. The largest concession they could offer would be this: next time we will not personally go out to collect taxes. That would be the end of it. As for punishing those responsible, that would be handled internally. The likely outcome would be nothing more than a slap on the wrist. If the perpetrators accepted punishment, it would not be because of the Russian army’s brutality, but because they had failed to keep the incident under wraps. Their poor information control had put the Russian government in a passive position. On the question of the Russian troops’ atrocities, the government could not admit anything at this stage. No matter how strong the evidence, they would have to stick to their story. Needless to say, the French would never accept that kind of resolution. To solve this diplomatically, at minimum a few scapegoats needed to be produced so the French could vent their anger. Clearly, the Foreign Ministry would not be the one to offend the military in that way. Nobody wanted to alienate their colleagues or bear the cost of a failed negotiation. Mikhailovich therefore put the ugly truth on the table early, so that if things went wrong later he could shift the blame. The civilian officials couldn’t even agree on a unified position, and the military, needless to say, was even more fractured. Their only answer was armed suppression, followed by more armed suppression. In any case, taking responsibility was utterly out of the question. The empire’s interests mattered, but personal status and career prospects mattered more. Anyone sitting in the post of Minister of War would first protect his own troops. ... For Nicholas II, who was soft at heart, the endless quarrels among his senior ministers were pure torment. Each argument sounded plausible, and choosing between them put the Tsar in an intolerable bind. Perhaps tired of the bickering, or struck by some sudden thought, Nicholas finally cut the discussion short. “All right. The Foreign Ministry will negotiate with the French first. If they are reasonable and accept our goodwill, fine. If the French refuse, then we will use the bayonet to wake them up.” A dual approach of diplomacy and military pressure, applied at the same time, looked exactly like the textbook solution and seemed without flaw. How effective it would be, however, remained to be seen. For now Nicholas seemed pleased. He had taken everyone’s opinions into account and felt that all angles had been covered. The only remaining headache was execution. Who would lead the operation, diplomats or the military? The great Tsar did not give a clear answer. Although they all knew it would be troublesome, the group tacitly chose to dodge the question. Who took the lead mattered more than just this cleanup mission. It would affect the standing of the Ministry of War and the Foreign Ministry within the government hierarchy. If the Tsar simply appointed someone by imperial decree, it would be only an extraordinary envoy and would not upset the balance of power. If someone else forced the issue, it would expose the hidden political struggle and leave no room to maneuver. In politics that was a cardinal sin. Everyone present was shrewd enough to know what could be done and what could not.
[Previous | Table of Contents | Next]
Comments
Post a Comment