Monetary standard reforms were nothing new. The gold standard itself had only been widely accepted by European countries in the past thirty to fifty years. Even then, there had been setbacks along the way. To prevent large-scale gold outflows, most countries had introduced various restrictions during their reform periods. The most representative example was the Holy Roman government’s Financial Control Act, which explicitly imposed limits on large-scale capital outflows. This was also one of the main reasons financial capitalists disliked the Holy Roman Empire. With large capital movements restricted, money could not flow in and out quickly, severely hurting profit efficiency. Before the war, Britain had been the global financial hegemon. Capital had been abundant for decades, so there was no need to restrict capital outflows. Now, however, the situation was completely different. As conditions continued to deteriorate, capitalists with sharp political instincts were already preparing to flee. Anyone with eyes could see it. Once the Oceanic Alliance collapsed, even if Britain managed to withdraw intact, it would have no future to speak of. Everywhere you looked, there were enemies. Where was development supposed to come from? Capitalists could pack up their money and run. Those who benefited from the existing system could not. A capitalist could still be a capitalist after leaving Britain. The nobles and bureaucrats would be left with nothing. Capital was powerful, but in the current British Empire, it still did not have the power to dominate everything with a single hand. If there were benefits, they could be shared. If disaster struck, everyone had to bear it together. If capitalists wanted to pull out of the whirlpool, the other forces were never going to agree. If people were going to die, then everyone would die together. It was unacceptable for soldiers to fight and bleed on the battlefield while capitalists stabbed them in the back from behind. “Reforming the monetary standard” was the countermeasure they came up with. If capitalists tried to withdraw funds on a massive scale, then the pound would be completely severed from gold. Just like what the French government had done at the end of the European War. When abandoning the gold standard, they also suspended the free exchange of francs for gold. Under the gold standard era, a currency that could not be freely converted was worthless. International capital markets did not recognize it. Take it abroad, and it was nothing more than scrap paper. With no reserve constraints, the French government had printed money without restraint to raise funds, and inflation quickly swept across the entire country. To preserve their wealth, capitalists holding large amounts of francs were forced to buy real assets. After the war was lost, those capitalists who had piled into assets found themselves completely trapped as France’s vitality was shattered. A few especially unlucky ones were even put on trial as war criminals. The nobility, originally at an economic disadvantage, gradually gained the upper hand in the struggles that followed and ultimately returned France to an era dominated by nobles and bureaucrats. With such a ready-made example right in front of them, the British government naturally used it to scare domestic capital. Running away was acceptable. Taking the money with them was not. Either they coughed up cash to buy government bonds and keep the war machine alive, or they flipped the table, crashed the market, and dragged everyone down together. Or rather, to be precise, it would be the big capitalists and financial conglomerates who would truly be finished. Other interest groups would suffer heavy losses, but not necessarily fatal ones. Anyone paying attention would notice that recently, correspondence between Britain’s great nobles and their European relatives had become far more frequent. Whether this was simply normal family contact, or quiet networking to build bridges and prepare escape routes, was hard to say. After all, the Holy Roman Empire was the stronghold of conservative forces, and when it came to preserving traditional privileges, it was notoriously stubborn. Just look at postwar France. Aside from a few unlucky nobles who had been dragged before military tribunals, the rest were let off lightly. With such a precedent, it was hardly surprising that people suddenly became more proactive. After all, when the ship was sinking, everyone aboard had to find a way to survive. The most obvious sign was this. Across the British Isles, calls for negotiations were growing louder by the day, and more and more voices were demanding that the British government end the war. As for how the war should end, that was the government’s problem. For now, being “anti-war” was never the wrong choice. … Inside Buckingham Palace, a deeply unsettled Edward VII stared at an encrypted telegram that had been crumpled into a ball and then smoothed out again. Compared to the contents of the message, what truly demanded secrecy was the origin of the transmission: the Vienna Palace. As the two great royal houses of Europe, the House of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha and the House of Habsburg had naturally been linked through marriage, and more than once at that. Franz and Edward VII were, in fact, proper in-laws. But in European politics, it has always been “family is family, war is war.” The First World War of the original timeline had been a massive brawl among relatives, and this time was no exception. Edward VII’s tragedy lay in the fact that he, the so-called elder uncle of Europe, had ended up standing on the opposite side of nearly all his relatives and was now being beaten from all directions. At the start of the war, Edward VII had deliberately reduced contact with his relatives to avoid suspicion. Unfortunately, reality proved merciless. With defeat looming, for the sake of the British Empire’s future and to preserve his own throne, he had no choice but to reopen those channels. Unlike the original timeline, where a single call could rally the crowned heads of Europe, the butterfly effect had shifted the center of gravity. Now, Franz was the core figure of Europe’s royal circle, not Edward, the so-called elder uncle. Edward VII’s reaction alone was enough to show that his “in-law” in Vienna had shown him no courtesy at all. Once he calmed down, Edward VII quickly accepted it. When national interests were involved, sentiment meant nothing to anyone. The war had reached a point where it could no longer be stopped just because someone wanted it to stop. The surge of anti-war sentiment among the British public was largely driven by bombings and shortages. Daily life had become nearly unbearable for ordinary people. But the Holy Roman Empire was different. From top to bottom, everyone wanted to drag the British Empire off its pedestal and take the throne of world hegemon for themselves. Under such circumstances, any ceasefire negotiations Britain sought were bound to come with brutal terms. Just as the telegram demanded, there were three conditions: First, the transfer of all British colonies. Second, independence for Ireland, Scotland, and Wales. Third, compensation for the losses suffered by all Continental Alliance member states involved in the war. Aside from the third clause on war reparations, which did not specify an exact amount and still left some room for negotiation, the first two conditions were absolute red lines. Meet them, and talks could proceed. Fail to meet them, and there was no point in negotiating at all. If Edward VII dared to agree to such terms, Buckingham Palace would have a new owner within three days. Even though he already sensed how grim the situation was, George, who stood nearby, could not help but ask, “Father, what does the telegram say?” “Read it yourself.” Edward VII handed the telegram over as he spoke. His dejection was obvious. He clearly had no desire to say more. “This is impossible! It is utterly outrageous. The great British Empire can never tolerate—” Before his son could finish venting his anger, Edward VII cut him off, “Stop saying useless things. They mean nothing. Franz dares to be this hardline because of our performance on the battlefield. We have given him every reason to believe that the Holy Roman Empire has victory firmly in hand. The war has been going on for more than half a year, and the Empire has suffered defeat after defeat. We have not won a single major battle. Now countries across the world are flocking to join the Continental Alliance, and the enemy’s strength is growing like a rolling snowball. If our positions were reversed, I would do exactly the same.” Calmness was Edward VII’s greatest strength. Even with the situation this dire, he could still think rationally, without railing against fate or blaming others. “But we—” George began. “There is no ‘but.’ In this era where the strong prey on the weak, weakness itself is the greatest sin. In the past, when Britain was strong, we treated other nations the same way, often even more ruthlessly. Now Britain’s strength has waned. We have fallen behind in the international race, and it is our turn to suffer the consequences. Unless we can turn the tide in the coming battles, the final armistice terms will only be worse than this.” Edward VII said this with heavy emphasis, every word laden with gravity. After hearing his father’s explanation, George frowned even more deeply. “This armistice agreement… I’m afraid the public won’t accept it. And for the royal family—” Perhaps it was tradition. Queen Victoria had never thought highly of Edward, believing him frivolous and unfit to rule. Now Edward, in turn, was dissatisfied with his own son, feeling a deep sense of despair at George’s political instincts. Fortunately, Edward VII was not a transmigrator. Otherwise, if he knew that George would one day pull off the historic stunt of voluntarily giving up royal power, he would probably have tried to replace the heir on the spot. “Accept the armistice?” What a joke. How could the royal family be the one to shoulder that responsibility? The entire nation could testify that ever since the outbreak of the war, His Majesty Edward VII had fallen ill, entrusting all state affairs to the cabinet government. Anyone with even a basic understanding of politics knew that what had been delegated was not just power, but responsibility as well. From beginning to end, Edward VII had never personally participated in the war. Even if he wanted to stir things up, it would have been done behind layers of disguise. Since he had not been involved, no matter how disastrous the consequences, they could not be pinned on the royal family. All responsibility lay squarely with the cabinet. Maintaining contact with the Habsburgs now was simply an added layer of insurance, ensuring that after defeat, the monarchy would not be purged. … While capitalists were scrambling to flee and the royal family and high aristocracy were busy preparing escape routes, the British government, already dancing on a knife’s edge, was struck by yet another piece of devastating news. On October 2, 1905, the Indochina Peninsula campaign, which had lasted four months, finally came to an end. Britain suffered yet another crushing defeat. The Continental Allied forces swept all the way into Burma, their spearhead pointing directly at India. Before there was even time to mourn, more bad news followed. On October 7, 1905, the Suez Canal, which had been blocked for nearly a year, was reopened. The Joint Fleet could now freely sail east. The biggest constraint on a Continental Alliance advance into India, logistics, could now be solved via sea routes. The Joint Fleet daring to split its forces did not mean the Royal Navy could do the same. After all, the internal Mediterranean routes were far shorter than the detours the Royal Navy had to take. If the Royal Navy split its forces, it would inevitably be caught by the Joint Fleet exploiting the time gap, striking them off guard and threatening the safety of the homeland itself. But if they did not send reinforcements, the connection between India and the British mainland would be severed, leaving India to fight alone. Just imagine it: colonial Indian troops versus the Continental allied armies. The outcome would be nothing short of tragic. And without India, could the British Empire still be called an “empire”? The question placed before the British government was stark: choose “India,” or choose “the homeland.” There was no doubt that this was a deadly dilemma. Before the British government could even make a choice, the wavering members of the Oceanic Alliance made their decision in an instant: abandon ship, at all costs. Even Japan and the United States, which had yet to finalize their terms, immediately cut ties with Britain, hoping to dilute their association with opposing the Continental Alliance as much as possible. With everyone jumping ship, John Bull was left completely alone. Under such circumstances, the war was no longer sustainable. If Britain did not negotiate while it still had some bargaining chips left, and instead dragged things out further… the consequences would only be worse.
[Previous | Table of Contents | Next]
Comments
Post a Comment