By deliberately leaking the date of the declaration of war in advance, Franz once again inadvertently set a historical precedent. As an emperor, every move Franz made was inevitably subjected to political interpretation. What appeared to be a frivolous gesture was, in fact, another round in the contest between royal authority and religious authority. The struggle between throne and altar in Europe had lasted for more than a thousand years. The Reformation that began in the Middle Ages was justified by the famous words attributed to Jesus: “Render unto God what is God’s, and unto Caesar what is Caesar’s.” Yet what truly belonged to God and what belonged to Caesar was never clearly defined. The commonly accepted distinction was between the religious and the secular. However, in Europe, religion had long been woven into daily life. Religion and secular affairs were fundamentally inseparable. Whether royal authority stood above ecclesiastical authority, or the reverse, was never definitively settled within the Holy Roman Empire. Even when church assets were confiscated in the past, Franz did not act directly in the name of the government. Instead, he struck a deal with the Pope and used papal authority to pressure local bishops into compliance. The objective was achieved, but such methods could be used once or twice at most. They could not serve as a long-term reliance on the Roman Curia. For that reason, over the following decades, Franz had quietly worked to weaken the influence of the Church, seeking to place religion under the supervision of the state. By now, the moment for open reckoning had essentially arrived. The deliberate handling of the declaration date was itself a clear political signal. It was meant to force everyone to recognize reality. Even the Pope was required to act in accordance with the emperor’s will. On what grounds, then, could the lower clergy claim to stand above worldly authority? Public attitudes are constantly changing, and so are the limits people are willing to accept. Had this happened several decades earlier, such a signal would have had little effect. But the situation is different now. The Church’s power had already declined significantly. Governments had long intervened in religious affairs, even if this had not been openly acknowledged. Bringing the issue into the open was both a message to Catholic believers at home and a signal to the Protestant population in the north. The primary purpose was to make one point clear to everyone: within the Holy Roman Empire, the Church obeyed the emperor, and therefore religious conflict was meaningless. As for leaking the date of the declaration of war and giving the British advance warning, that was not an issue at all. Blood was already close to flowing freely in the colonies. Any places that could be defended had long since been reinforced, and those that were not defended no longer needed to be. … No matter how tense the situation became, the City of Fog remained the City of Fog. Even though the air was already thick with the scent of gunpowder, it was insignificant compared with the dense mist itself. The roar of mechanical turbines echoed without pause, and ships entering and leaving were as numerous as stars in the sky. Beneath the heavy fog, the Port of London remained as busy as ever, seemingly untouched by the changing situation. In fact, the looming war had led to an increase in shipping traffic. The difference was that the direction of trade had shifted. Vessels that once shuttled back and forth through the English Channel had now turned to the open seas, engaging in long distance ocean trade. Ships that chose to remain were no longer focused on imports and exports. Instead, they had taken up passenger transport. In reality, ever since news of the attack on the Suez Canal reached Europe, trade between Britain and the countries of continental Europe had come to an end, and evacuation operations had been placed on the agenda. The rise of every great city depends on drawing resources from its surroundings. As the world’s leading metropolis, London was no exception. More than a million immigrants from across Europe were concentrated there. As the footsteps of war drew closer, these expatriates naturally could not remain. Fortunately, they came from more than a dozen different countries. Otherwise, evacuating so many people at once would have been impossible to manage. … The dock was shrouded in thick fog, with visibility reduced to less than fifty meters. The towering lighthouse had already begun its repetitive cycle of work, dutifully guiding each vessel along its course. As the thunderous noise of approaching ships grew louder, more and more people gathered on the pier. Every one of them carried large bundles and bags, looking very much like refugees fleeing disaster. A middle aged man dressed in blue barked sharply, “Keep up, Andrew. If you miss this ship, you can stay here and deal with it yourself…” Before he could finish, the teenage Andrew jerked his head back and retorted with disdain, “What is so bad about staying here?” Feeling that his dignity had been challenged, the man exploded in anger: “Andrew, you really are an idiot. Do not forget that you are a Sicilian. If you ask another stupid question like that, do not call yourself the son of me, Rudolf. Look at this damned weather. How could it possibly compare to Sicily? And look at the way people around us are staring…” In name, it was an evacuation of expatriates. In reality, it was nothing more than flight from danger. When people could barely take care of themselves, no one had the energy to pay attention to a father scolding his son. Scenes like this were playing out in countless families at that very moment. It had to be admitted that Britain in this era was indeed full of attraction for ordinary people. Second and third generation immigrants who had grown up in Britain had already developed genuine feelings for the country, while the concept of their ancestral homeland had faded to almost nothing. Unfortunately, as an island nation, Britain was inherently lacking in inclusiveness. It could not even fully accommodate the Irish, let alone these wanderers from abroad. Discrimination was everywhere. As the footsteps of war drew closer, life became even harder for immigrants. Surveillance, interrogations, and even arbitrary detention became commonplace. Whether driven away by the hostile looks around them or by anxiety over an uncertain future, countless immigrants were forced to choose to return home. In fact, those leaving at this point were either penniless drifters or overly greedy people clinging to wishful thinking. The truly astute ones had already begun selling off their assets in the British Isles as soon as the situation started to deteriorate, quietly preparing their escape. Greed always comes at a price. Those who failed to cut their losses in time could now only sell at a tearful discount, symbolically recovering a fraction of their investment, or even seeing their businesses forcibly seized. From the exchange between the two, it was clear that Rudolf and his son Andrew were not wealthy. Anyone with even modest means would have bought their own tickets and left long ago. There was no alternative. The Holy Roman Empire’s planned declaration date had already been leaked by the media. No matter how slow one was to react, it was obvious that if they did not leave now, they would soon be unable to leave at all. There were, of course, people who chose to stay behind and share Britain’s fate, but such fools were few. Even if one wished to stay, it still depended on whether the host country was willing to accept them. In reality, returning home at this moment was hardly free of problems either. Employment had to be secured, and surveillance was unavoidable, creating the uncomfortable feeling of being unwelcome on both sides. Still, Rudolf had no real choice. Remaining in Britain meant facing not only discrimination, but the very real possibility of mortal danger. Thanks to Britain’s well developed press, Rudolf was well aware that the British Isles had limited grain output and had long relied on imports. Worse still, the enemy they were about to fight happened to be the world’s leading exporter of agricultural products. If the war dragged on, famine was a very real possibility. Although the British government repeatedly assured the public that it possessed vast colonies and many allies rich in grain, capable of ensuring domestic supplies, Rudolf found it difficult to place any trust in those promises. His Irish coworkers never tired of recounting the darker chapters of British government history, steadily eroding any remaining confidence. At the height of Britain’s power, a single famine had already starved millions of its own people to death. If that could happen in peacetime, what chance would there be in war? Yes, in the eyes of ordinary people the British Isles were a single entity, and Ireland was likewise regarded as an integral part of the British Empire. The tangled history of grievances and bloodshed between them was never something the British government actively publicized. Most Britons only understood it in fragments, and for someone like Rudolf, who had come abroad simply to make a living, it was even harder to grasp clearly. By comparison, returning home at least guaranteed food on the table. His homeland, Sicily, was well suited to agriculture and was one of the few regions in Italy that exported agricultural products. The Holy Roman Empire was also the world’s leading exporter of foodstuffs, so even if war broke out, it was highly unlikely that grain requisitioning would extend as far as Sicily. In any case, the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies was only playing a token role in this war. The likelihood of its homeland becoming a battlefield was minimal. The government’s attitude toward the conflict would probably not be one of all-out commitment either. Even if returning migrants were subjected to monitoring or investigation, it would most likely be a mere formality. There were simply too many places where intelligence work was actually needed. Unless the British had completely lost their senses, they would not focus their espionage efforts on the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies. Scenes of quiet misery like this were not confined to the docks of London. They were unfolding in nearly every major port across Europe. The difference was that far fewer Britons lived on the European continent than Europeans who had gone to Britain to seek a livelihood, which made the London docks appear especially noisy and chaotic. … Time passed quickly, and the annual Christmas season arrived once more. Beneath the festive atmosphere, the smell of gunpowder hanging over Europe seemed to fade somewhat. Had the media not previously exposed the Holy Roman government’s planned declaration date and stirred up such an uproar, those unfamiliar with European customs might even have thought the crisis was blowing over. Buoyed by the holiday spirit, both sides tacitly pressed the pause button. Even colonial clashes temporarily ceased. The only ones still suffering were the Russian troops in the Far East. The Japanese army did not observe Christmas, so the fighting continued unabated. That, however, was not considered anything unusual. Orthodox Christmas fell the following month, and there would be time enough for reflection then. In Saint Petersburg, the Russian government also received notice of the Holy Roman Empire’s plan to declare war. As the footsteps of war drew closer, disputes over strategic direction once again became a major topic in Russia. Military technological innovation, at its core, was nothing more than the study of how to kill more efficiently. The use of machine guns, trenches, and barbed wire tactics did help the Russians stabilize their lines. However, the emergence of armored tanks opened an entirely new door for the Japanese army. As a result, casualties on both sides were significantly higher than they had been in actual history. These were, in themselves, minor issues. The Russian government had no shortage of expendable manpower, while Japan, steeped in bushido ideology, likewise possessed a spirit that did not fear death. Both sides could afford to lose men. Yet once human wave tactics suddenly lost their effectiveness, the situation became deeply embarrassing for the Russian government. Even so, those were still secondary concerns. What truly shook the Russians was the problem of logistics and supplies. As tensions escalated, relying on the Holy Roman government to help smuggle strategic materials was clearly no longer realistic. What Russia could still access was only the stockpiles accumulated earlier. Once those were exhausted, the only option would be to transport supplies directly from the European heartland, which was a grim prospect. After French laborers worked day and night, the Trans-Siberian Railway was finally completed and opened to traffic before the end of the year. Yet this railway, which had carried such high expectations, failed to deliver the results everyone had imagined. In fact, an accident occurred during the very process of opening it to service. Had the crew not responded promptly, no one could say what might have happened to the train that ran off the tracks. If failures could occur even during the initial opening phase, the strong scent of Russian manufacturing could be detected from miles away. It might sound unbelievable, but neither the train nor the railway itself was fundamentally flawed. The primary cause of the accident was insufficient compatibility between the rolling stock and the rails. A tiny deviation led to massive consequences. Once again, reality proved that the Russians were ill suited to precision manufacturing. Even after importing a complete set of train production technologies from the Holy Roman Empire, accidents still occurred at the critical moment. The tracks themselves could not be altered, so resolving the compatibility problem fell on the trains. As a result, even the locomotives and carriages that had already been produced now had to be sent back for reworking. These were only fine adjustments and did not require major financial input. The greatest cost was time. This was only the beginning. In the future, supplying logistics to several hundred thousand troops at the front would present even more concrete and difficult problems. Even if supply could be guaranteed and Japan defeated, there would be no prospect of continuing an eastward advance in the short term. The reason was simple. The longer the front line was extended, the greater the logistical pressure would become. Moreover, Japan was an island nation surrounded by seas. Victory on land could only be regarded as a partial success. Only a victory at sea would truly mark the end of the war. Everyone had confidence in the Russian Empire and did not doubt its ability to defeat Japan. The real problem was that all of these war plans required enormous sums of money to sustain. Unlike in the past, the major financial backers were now also preparing to go to war with Britain. No matter how close the relationship, at such a moment every country had to put its own interests first. “Full self-financing” was a phrase terrifying even to contemplate. If it were truly implemented, it would drain the financial markets of the Russian Empire dry. By comparison, the southern option looked far more favorable. The Holy Roman Empire’s army also had plans to advance into India, and the two sides could cooperate. Politics was inseparable from interests. An advance by the Russian army possessed sufficient strategic value, which meant that it was still possible to reach out to the Holy Roman government for financial support. Matters involving the future fate of the nation could not be decided in a few words. They required study, further study, and endless meetings… For the indecisive Nicholas II, this prolonged dispute over strategic direction was nothing short of mental torment. The advantages and disadvantages of both routes were clearly laid out. On the surface, it seemed like a simple choice between two options, one only needed to weigh the pros and cons and select the more favorable path. Unfortunately, Nicholas II was incapable of doing so. There was no room for muddling through. On the battlefield, time waited for no one. Without early preparation, once an opportunity was missed, it would be lost for good. … As expected, on the day after Christmas, the investigative commission into the canal attack made its findings public. The evidence pointed squarely at the British government as the culprit. Before the British government could offer any explanation, the Holy Roman government issued a final ultimatum, demanding that Britain hand over the perpetrators within twenty four hours and compensate for economic losses amounting to twenty eight million guilders. Immediately afterward, the countries of the Continental Alliance produced their own lists of losses and demanded compensation from the British government. Handing over anyone was out of the question. The British government had firmly insisted that it had no prior knowledge of the attack. If it surrendered suspects, it would amount to admitting that it had planned the canal incident itself. Paying compensation was even more impossible. With war imminent, there was no such thing as providing funds to the enemy on the eve of battle.
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Thanks for the Chapter!
ReplyDeleteI've finally arrived in the infinite chapter loop.
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