The first major event in the Far East in 1904 was not the trial in Tokyo, but the founding of Nanyang University, an institution that would have a profound influence on later generations. Even though the university had only just received its name and the campus location, faculty, and regulations had yet to be decided, this still could not stop Nanyang University from causing a sensation across Asia. In this era of chaotic ideas, admiration for the West had reached its peak. Many people believed that even the moon in Europe was rounder. When Wilhelm personally endorsed the project as an imperial prince, the impact became even greater. Enrollment had not yet officially begun, yet people were already lining up to inquire and apply, to the point that it interfered with the normal operations of several Holy Roman diplomatic missions in the Far East. The reason was simple. At a banquet, Wilhelm casually revealed that Nanyang University would admit students from across Asia without restrictions on nationality or ethnicity. There was no other choice. Although the population in Austrian Southeast Asia was not small, the top students all went to the mainland. As a colony of the Holy Roman Empire, the region enjoyed many benefits, including certain privileges in higher education. Based on population ratios, major universities in the empire guaranteed a minimum number of admission slots each year for Austrian Southeast Asia. The education model was also a copy of the system used in the homeland. Aside from slight adjustments for local geography, the textbooks were uniformly compiled by the Ministry of Education. From elementary school to university, students advanced entirely through proportional entrance examinations. In theory, all citizens of the Holy Roman Empire enjoyed equal rights to education. Of course, this only applied to government-funded education. Those who paid for their own studies were not bound by admission limits. Educational resources were extremely valuable in these times. Self-funded study in primary and secondary schools was manageable, but once one reached university, tuition fees were counted in the tens of thousands. It was not only ordinary people who could not afford such expenses. Even minor nobles and members of the petite bourgeoisie found the costs overwhelming. According to statistics from the Austrian government, more than ninety-eight percent of the students admitted to the Holy Roman Empire’s regular universities each year were accepted through entrance examinations. Fewer than two percent were those who paid their way in. No matter how loudly Wilhelm promoted it, he still could not change the fact that Nanyang University was viewed as a second-rate institution. It might fool outsiders, but it could not deceive the nobles, capitalists, and middle class within the empire. Even if the colonial government intended to allocate resources to Nanyang University, the shortage of qualified teachers was something that could not be fixed overnight. Everyone was practical, especially when it came to their children’s education. The German people in particular were known for taking such matters seriously. If the quality of education was lacking, even an imperial prince could not make it acceptable. Of course, Wilhelm had no intention of forcing these students to stay. Leading young people astray was something that invited universal resentment. Besides, most families had their wealth and roots in Austrian Southeast Asia. Even if their children went back to the homeland to study, many would eventually return to the region. These people would still become high-quality talent. The purpose of founding a university was to cultivate talent. As long as Nanyang University produced people who could serve the region, it did not matter where the students received part of their education. If they wanted to retain local students, they could wait until the university’s faculty became stronger. For now, the most important task was to build a solid foundation. If the school’s educational quality was poor and the students were also weak, then it truly would become a second-rate institution. Given this situation, opening admissions to all of Asia was something they had no choice but to do. If not for the fact that its influence was still limited and it could not attract students from Europe and the United States, Wilhelm would have opened enrollment to the entire world. Of course, the main reason Nanyang University was so attractive in Asia was because of its military program. Unlike other disciplines that lacked substance, the military faculty was well-staffed. Whether retired noble officers of feudal estates or high-ranking active-duty commanders, Wilhelm had brought them in to serve as visiting instructors. The army, navy, and air force together provided a total of seventeen generals, which was an impressive lineup by Asian standards. Although these generals could not possibly attend classes every day, the regular instructors at the university were all graduates of the empire’s military academies and had real battlefield experience. Their experience might not be as deep as those of senior officers, but after some adjustment, they were more than qualified compared to instructors at ordinary military schools in the homeland. This was already enough. The true purpose of establishing a military program was to give the university prestige and attract students from across Asia. Having lived in Southeast Asia for so long, Wilhelm already had a good grasp of the region’s situation. For students from Asian countries studying abroad, military studies were always the first choice, followed by economics and literature. Fewer chose medicine or the technical sciences. In a sense, this was actually beneficial for the newly established Nanyang University. Compared to the strict requirements of medicine and the sciences, subjects like literature and economics were clearly much easier to handle. … Director of Education Sanchez said, “Your Highness, this is the site plan and layout for Nanyang University. Please take a look.” As expected, the final location of Nanyang University was on Sulawesi Island, on the outskirts roughly thirty kilometers from the governor’s residence. The layout was largely copied from the University of Vienna, although many buildings were omitted, making it a very standard and balanced design. After reviewing it and finding no major issues, Wilhelm picked up his pen and signed his name on the document. He then said calmly, “Begin construction as soon as possible. Try to complete the main structure before the end of the year so that it can be ready for next year’s incoming students.” It was clear that Wilhelm was satisfied with the education department’s plan. A conservative and balanced design meant stability. At over forty years old, Wilhelm had long passed the age of wanting to show off. Besides, even if Nanyang University were built with the most astonishing design, what difference would it make? He was already the undisputed ruler of Southeast Asia. No one here would be impressed anyway. They could not possibly design something eccentric just to send a few pictures home and show off. Of course, if someone wanted to return early and spend the rest of their life doing nothing, that would indeed be a good way to do it. Director of Education Sanchez immediately assured him, “Your Highness, please rest assured. We have already hired the best construction teams. We will definitely complete the main structure before the end of the year.” After a pause of more than ten seconds, Sanchez added, “Your Highness, since we are recruiting students from all across Asia this time, many of them have to travel for several months just to get here. To make sure the new students can begin their studies smoothly next year, would it be possible to start the admissions work earlier? There are already many applicants expressing interest, and this is putting a great deal of pressure on our selection process. Starting ahead of schedule would give us more time to prepare.” In reality, the situation would only become more difficult. Recruiting over a thousand students from the whole of Asia might not be one in ten thousand, but choosing one out of a hundred was almost guaranteed. Although the education department had plenty of experience with admissions, this was their first time handling recruitment across different countries and regions. Wilhelm nodded and said, “The admissions work will be handled by your department. I have only one requirement. Select as many capable students as possible, but do not admit anyone with anti-Austrian sentiments.” Political correctness always came first, and there could be no exceptions. The Holy Roman Empire was relatively tolerant toward new ideas, mainly because the country was strong and confident enough to withstand the impact of new ideologies. … In Tokyo, as the international trial came to an end, the young and rapidly growing cosmopolitan city once again burst with energy. The Japanese public was not defeated by the trial. Instead, its greatest consequence was that anti-Russian sentiment among the population rose even further. To ease domestic pressure, the Japanese government even established a “National Humiliation Day,” said to commemorate the so-called “heroes” who died in the Russian embassy incident. It was not only the Russians who could not stand it. Even the diplomatic corps was furious. Calling those who were sentenced to death by the international court “heroes” was clearly a slap in everyone’s face. But the diplomatic corps had already split. Britain and the Holy Roman Empire, the two leading powers, were already at each other’s throats and had no time to bother with such minor issues. Not only did the two major bullies refuse to stop it, they even fanned the flames and stirred things up, all to help provoke a war between Japan and Russia. What makes an “open conspiracy” so frightening is that even when everyone sees through it, the events still unfold. The current Japanese–Russian conflict was exactly that. Even though both governments understood that Austria and Britain had malicious intentions, they could only grit their teeth and move forward. For the Japanese government in particular, they had been pushed into a corner. Making concessions now would be equivalent to slow suicide. With the relationship between Japan and Russia in its current state, once the Trans-Siberian Railway opened, it would mean the end of the Japanese Empire. In a sense, the pressure on Japan now was even greater than in the original timeline. The war in the Philippines had emptied the treasury, leaving the Japanese government poorer, and its overall national strength was one or two levels weaker than it had been historically. Russia, on the other hand, was in a different position. Although its overall strength had not increased much, its visible size had. On the Baltic front it occupied Prussian Poland; in the center it had seized Constantinople, turning the Black Sea into an internal Russian lake and extending its reach all the way into the Mediterranean; in the south it occupied most of Afghanistan, pushing its borders close to India. The entire Russian Empire had become noticeably larger than in the original timeline. If not for the powerful rise of the Holy Roman Empire, the whole of Europe would probably have been trembling under the wheels of the Russian steamroller. Faced with such an opponent, it was impossible for the Japanese government not to feel nervous. If the Russian Embassy incident had not occurred, the Japanese government would never have found the resolve to confront Russia head-on. But reality does not deal in hypotheticals. With that spark, combined with years of conflict and friction between Japan and Russia, war became inevitable. Anyone with even a basic understanding of military affairs could sense how tense Tokyo had become. The atmosphere clearly signaled that war was about to break out. Although there were no renewed protests outside the Russian Embassy, the anti-Russian movement was growing rapidly, and even foreign students could not avoid being dragged into it. “Learn a lesson after suffering a setback.” After their earlier ordeal, the Qing Dynasty’s students in Japan had become more cautious. They no longer wanted to take part in anti-Russian activities. But no matter how much they refused, they could not withstand the persistent pressure from their Japanese “friends,” leaving many who were used to social niceties deeply uncomfortable. Everyone knew how powerful Russia was. Aside from the Japanese themselves, almost no one believed Japan stood a chance. Even if the Japanese government portrayed itself as the light and hope of Asia, it could not erase the impression everyone already had in their minds. Standing beside the loser would have serious consequences. It would be one thing to throw oneself into ruin, but the fear was that one might drag the entire family down as well. Everyone had already witnessed how strong the Russian desire for revenge could be. As for those sentenced to death, there was nothing more to say. They were already on their way to meet God. What truly shocked people were the thousands who had been exiled to Siberia. Their families had already begun to receive news of their deaths one after another. Yet refusing to participate was difficult. Social obligations were hard to escape. Living in a foreign country meant relying on the help of friends. Many students had received assistance from their Japanese classmates in the past. Even if it had only been small favors, they still owed those debts of gratitude. For young students, loyalty outweighed everything. A few rousing words were often enough to switch off their rational thinking. If not for what happened earlier, they might have ended up just like in the original timeline, a group of foreign students tricked into becoming cannon fodder. Now they had finally woken up, but once they refused to participate, they suddenly realized how awkward their situation had become. Because of his outstanding performance during the previous incident, Li Bo’an had unknowingly become the backbone of the foreign student community. Whenever something happened, everyone liked to consult him. “Brother Bo’an, the situation is becoming troublesome. Ever since we refused to join the anti-Russian movement, we have been isolated at school. Our Japanese friends have been distancing themselves from us one by one. Even our residences are often harassed by thugs, and the Tokyo police do nothing. If this continues, we may have no choice but to end our studies early and return home...” Li Bo’an had heard similar complaints more than once. He himself had been ostracized at school, though he managed to remain calm and withstand the pressure. “Brother Liu, the intentions of the Japanese are obvious. With war between Japan and Russia approaching, they need allies to share the burden. Drawing us in is only a pretext. What they really want is to use us to pull the imperial court into the war against Russia. The Japanese might not know but we know the imperial court’s condition better than anyone. If we rush into this without thinking, and Japan loses, will Russia not seek retribution afterward? And when Russia applies military pressure, do you think the court can withstand it? When that time comes, not only will we be ruined, but our families might be dragged down with us. Compared to that, the grievances we suffer now are nothing. If we truly cannot stay, then we can simply leave Japan. Besides, Nanyang University will soon begin admissions. Even if we cannot pass the entrance exam, we can still attend as self-funded students.” There was no doubt that these ideas did not originate from the students themselves. They had not endured enough of life’s harsh lessons to think this far ahead. For such views to spread widely among the foreign students, someone was clearly encouraging them. The motive was obvious. With Nanyang University about to open, it needed more high-quality students, and competing for applicants was unavoidable. After all, Japan did not have any real universities at the time. Even Tokyo University was barely a half-step above a diploma mill in the eyes of the international community, with very mediocre faculty. Most advanced technology was monopolized by Europe. Major scientific research and innovation were completely absent across Asia. The Japanese were trying hard, but effort was all they had. They lacked talent, infrastructure, and the foundation needed to catch up with the world’s leading nations. That was not something that could be achieved overnight. This was one of the reasons why, as soon as Nanyang University announced its admissions, countless people rushed to apply. Even if it was technically another diploma mill, people simply did not know it yet.
[Previous | Table of Contents | Next]
Comments
Post a Comment