The Popular Will: Reformism, Radicalism, Republicanism & Unionism in Britain 1815-1960

[President Conor]

V, XXXI: The New Risorgimento

The year was 1892, and the winds of change that had swept across Europe found their way to Italy. The nation's history, like a mosaic of contrasting hues, was about to be painted with the vivid strokes of a new ideology – Actionism. As whispers of revolution and fervent cries for change echoed through the streets of France, the neighboring nation of Italy stood at a crossroads. The land of ancient civilizations and Renaissance art had been grappling with its own set of challenges in the late 19th century. Economic hardships, social disparities, and political upheavals had cast a shadow over the Italian Peninsula.

In the bustling squares of Italy, where oranges hung heavy on the trees, a movement was born. The Fasci Italiano, or Fasci d'Azione Italiano emerged as a beacon of hope for the disenfranchised. Inspired by the revolutionary winds that had swept across France, the Fasci galvanized the poorest and most exploited members of society. They transformed the frustrations and discontent of the masses into a coherent vision of a better future grounded in the establishment of new rights.

Giovanni Giolitti, Prime Minister of Italy ​

The movement's demands were straightforward – fair land rents, higher wages, lower local taxes, and the equitable distribution of common land. But within these seemingly simple demands lay the aspirations of a marginalized population yearning for justice. From July to October 1892, approximately 170 Fasci were established in Italy. As the movement gained momentum, its membership swelled to over 300,000 by the time November's election loomed on the horizon. Public demonstrations became a constant source of concern for the Italian Government.

The Fasci was a federation of various associations encompassing farm workers, tenant farmers, small sharecroppers, artisans, intellectuals, and industrial laborers. They came together under the banner of change, their unity symbolized by the bundle of sticks – "Fascio" – signifying that while a single stick may break, a bundle was unbreakable.

Amidst the tumultuous sea of political ideologies, the Italian Fasci carried a unique perspective on Actionism. Many of its leaders were devout Catholics, and this infusion of faith into their movement lent it a distinct character. In their meeting halls, crucifixes hung alongside purple Actionist flags, and portraits of revolutionaries like Garibaldi, Mazzini, Sorel, and Marx adorned the walls.

Their conviction led them to proclaim, "Jesus was a true socialist and wanted just what the Fasci were demanding."

As the November 1892 Election drew near, Italy found itself standing on the precipice of change. The conditions leading up to the election were far from ideal. The working class, a significant segment of the population, remained excluded from the electoral process. The contesting parties included the Liberals under Giovanni Giolitti, the Right led by Antonio Starabba di Rudinì, and the Radicals headed by Felice Cavallotti. Prime Minister Giovanni Giolitti, now at the helm of the Italian Government, faced the daunting task of guiding the nation through these turbulent waters.

Beyond Italy's borders, the nation's allies, Germany and Britain, watched with keen interest. As members of the Accord powers, they both had a vested interest in Italy's stability. The outcome of the election held the potential to not only reshape Italy's domestic landscape but also influence its diplomatic relationships. Within the political spectrum, another new movement was brewing. The Social Democratic Party of Italy, founded in 1892 as the Party of Italian Workers, aligned itself with the principles of Pactism. This movement stood in stark contrast to the Actionists, condemning their deviation from the ideals of Pactism. In the midst of Italy's political maelstrom, the PSI sought to carve out its own path.

Amidst the fervor of the Fasci's emergence, Italy hurtled toward a pivotal moment in its history. As the nation grappled with newfound hope and mounting tension, the stage was set for the November 1892 Election, an event that would both test and redefine the nation's political landscape. The nation was poised for transformation, and the choices made in the coming days would shape its destiny. The storm of Actionism had arrived, and Italy was about to be swept up in its tempestuous embrace.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the Italian Peninsula as the nation held its collective breath, awaiting the outcome of the pivotal November 1892 Election. This election was not just a contest between political parties; it was a referendum on the path Italy would tread. As the results of the election slowly unfolded, they painted a bleak and revealing picture of Italy's political landscape. The new composition of the Chamber of Deputies did little to alleviate the growing tensions within the nation.

The Liberal faction emerged as the victor, but their victory was hardly a resounding one. Securing 369 seats, they had garnered the largest share, yet it was evident that Italy was not embracing their vision with open arms. Their message of moderation and gradual reform had, at best, struck a cautious chord with the voters. The Right managed to secure 76 seats, a testament to their unyielding conservatism. Still, their ideals faced an uphill battle against a changing political climate, and their influence seemed to wane. The Radicals found themselves with 63 seats. Their vision for radical change, though passionate, had failed to ignite a widespread fervor among the electorate.

However, the election was marred by controversy and allegations of vote-rigging and manipulation. In fear of Actionist sympathisers gaining seats in the Chamber, Radicals were arrested prior to the election and found themselves harassed and oppressed by the police. Key Actionist and Socialist figures were targetted also, and the Government resorted to vote rigging to ensure they retained their majority, with the tacit approval of the King and the Accord Powers, who wished to prevent the Actionist revolution from spreading to the Italian Peninsular.

Accusations of irregularities echoed across Italy, casting a long and dark shadow over the electoral process. Both the Fasci and the Socialist Party cried foul, asserting that the results did not accurately reflect the will of the people. Protests erupted across the nation as Actionists and Socialists took to the streets to voice their outrage. The piazzas and boulevards became arenas of dissent as citizens from all walks of life united in their demand for justice and fairness. Banners waved, slogans echoed, and impassioned speeches resounded through the air, creating a cacophony of discontent.

The allegations of vote rigging were at the forefront of these protests. Suspicion had swirled around the election process for weeks, fueled by whispers of irregularities and manipulation. Stories of tampered ballots and suppressed voices spread like wildfire, further stoking the flames of dissent.

The government's response to the protests was swift and severe. Authorities cracked down on demonstrators, attempting to quell the unrest with force. Tear gas filled the air, and clashes between protesters and law enforcement became increasingly common. The nation teetered on the edge of chaos as the discontent and frustration of the people reached a boiling point.

As the November sun dipped below the horizon, Giacomo, an art student from Turin, felt a surge of excitement coursing through his veins. Having recently relocated to Milan, the narrow streets were alive with anticipation as if the very cobblestones beneath his feet were poised for change. He was but a young man, barely in his twenties, yet his heart thumped with the conviction of a lifetime. He recorded his experience in his diaries:

“I had grown up in the shadow of hardships that had befallen his family's humble farm. Rising land rents and oppressive local taxes had cast a heavy burden on their shoulders. It was a burden shared by countless others, those who tilled the soil and toiled beneath the unforgiving Sicilian sun. These struggles had shaped his worldview, and I was determined to make my voice heard.

That evening, as I joined the throngs of fellow protesters, I felt a profound sense of unity - a renewed risorgimento. The purpose rosette I pinned to my chest having been given it by a passer-by bore the emblem of the Fasci, a symbol of our collective hope. Together, we were more than just individuals; they were a force, a chorus of voices demanding justice.

The streets echoed with chants and slogans, resonating with the grievances of the marginalized. I marched alongside my comrades, my determination unwavering. The evening air was charged with tension, yet there was an undeniable sense of purpose that bound us together.

As the demonstration swelled, I couldn't help but glance at the historical buildings that lined the streets. They bore witness to centuries of Italian history, but tonight, they bore witness to something new—an awakening. The purple Actionist flag, a symbol of change, waved proudly alongside the crucifix, a testament to the melding of faith and reform.

But our cries for justice were met with resistance. Giolotti's response was swift and harsh. Suddenly, a loud bang pierced my ears, and I felt a sharp pain shoot up my leg, and I fell, struggling to breathe. I had been hit with grapeshot and was near death. A member of the Fasci picked me up and took me to a doctor who treated my wounds. Another few minutes, he said, and I would have died. At that moment, I knew that I was part of something larger than myself. I was part of a movement that dared to challenge the status quo, a movement that believed in a brighter future. As the protests raged on, I clung to the hope from my hospital bed that their collective voice would eventually break through the barriers of oppression and ring out as a call for change.”

The Giacomo in question? Giacomo Balla, the future leader of Partito d'Azione Italiano. He would forever walk with a limp after the shooting, a distinguishing feature of the man who would haunt the nightmares of the Italian establishment over the next two decades.

Giacomo Balla, the future leader of Partito d'Azione Italiano​

As Italy grappled with the aftermath of the November 1892 Election, it was evident that the nation stood at a precipice. The Liberal faction, holding a significant majority in the Chamber of Deputies, would play a pivotal role in shaping Italy's future. Their commitment to cautious progress and reform would guide the nation through the challenges and uncertainties that lay ahead. Yet, this election had laid bare the deep-seated divisions within Italy. The discontent and disillusionment simmering beneath the surface threatened to erupt into something far more destructive. Italy's future appeared increasingly uncertain, and the echoes of a nation teetering on the brink of chaos grew louder with each passing day.

 

[President Conor]

V, XXXII: The Reluctant Revolutionary

The 1892 US General Election saw a competition between three main parties, Farmer-Labor, Republicans, and Democrats. Still, within these groups, factions existed that made tracking the support each candidate received difficult. The Republicans were beginning to divide between Progressive and Conservative wings, with a smaller faction advocating free coinage of silver, known as the ‘free silver’ movement. The Democrats were divided between those favouring free silver, who were generally more progressive and known as the ‘Silver Democrats.’ Those against it, known as the ‘Gold Democrats,’ were generally classically liberal, preferring ‘sound money.’

By contrast, the Farmer-Labor Party seemed relatively united on many issues; most notably free silver. This attracted more and more of the Silver Democrats to the Farmer-Labor Party (FLP) and made them more of a serious proposition in the eyes of the electorate. The FLP had also been boosted by the 1891 gubernatorial elections, in which S. B. Erwin became Governor of Kentucky.

Upon his term beginning, he quickly introduced legislation to purchase telegraphs and railroads for the state and introduced a graduated income tax to pay for state-controlled education. Divisions between different groups within the Kentucky Farmer-Labor Party hampered some of the progress, but overall, the administration was considered a success. Farmer-Labor members were positive that they could capture some electoral college votes leading into the elections.

The FLP's convention in July 1892 was not just another gathering; it was the culmination of diverse labor and agrarian movements, bearing the hopes and aspirations of millions. The convention hall was a mosaic of America's working class. Delegates from the Northern, Southern, and "Colored" associations of the Farmers Alliance filled the room. The powerful presence of the Colored Farmers Alliance was especially notable. Despite the initial reluctance from Southern Farmers to include them, their sheer number, over 1.2 million strong, and the strategic advantage they provided in garnering Republican support, made them indispensable.

Everywhere one looked, there were badges and symbols representing various factions, a testament to the amalgamation of groups that the Farmer-Labor Party had managed to bring together.

As delegates roamed the hall, they engaged in animated discussions, bridging divides and building consensus. Reporters from the National Reform Press Association, an alliance of newspapers rallying behind the Farmer-Labor movement, scribbled notes fervently, capturing every nuance of this historic gathering. Charles Macune's "Macune Plan" was a frequent topic, with many advocating its salient points, such as the eight-hour workday and the innovative agrarian "Sub-Treasury Plan."

The sudden demise of Leonidas L. Polk, the popular FLP organizer, cast a somber shadow. His unexpected absence was palpable, but the party needed to move forward. As Walter Q. Gresham's name began to circulate as a potential candidate, the atmosphere grew thick with expectation. And when his nomination was announced, a roar of approval swept through the convention hall. Gresham, known for his rulings against big railroad companies, was seen as a beacon of hope. Hardworking farmers, their hands bearing the marks of relentless labor, cheered in unison, marking a moment of unity for the nascent Farmer-Labor Party.

Gresham had been a Republican candidate for the nomination in 1884 and 1888, achieving the endorsement of forerunners to the FLP like the Agricultural Wheel, Grange, and Farmers Alliance in 1888. He had served as Postmaster-General in President Chester A Arthur’s cabinet in 1883, briefly as Treasury Secretary, and has extensive experience in the Federal Courts. He was a man caught between two worlds. His Republican past was a testament to his deep-rooted beliefs in a conservative, structured government.

Yet, as he witnessed the changing tide and the struggles of the common man, his heart leaned more and more towards the FLP's promise of change. The internal battle was evident every time he took the stage. One could see it in the slight hesitation before he spoke, in the way his eyes darted across the room, seeking both approval and forgiveness. Aligning with the FLP was more than a political move for Gresham; it was a personal journey of reconciling his past affiliations with his newfound vision for America.

The Farmer-Labor Party platform called for the nationalization of the telegraph, telephone, and railroads, free coinage of silver, a graduated income tax, and the creation of postal savings banks. While Gresham was unsure about accepting the nomination, the success of the FLP in states like Kentucky had led him to believe that he could launch a bid and worry the two main parties. The convention nominated James H. Kyle, a popular US Senator and one of the first FLP members elected to the chamber, as their candidate for Vice President.

Walter Gresham, Farmer-Labor candidate for President, 1892​

Gresham represented the moderate wing of the party and sought to present a respectable faction to voters. On the other hand, Kyle was a radical who appealed to the core base of workers and farmers. These factions weren’t as prevalent as in the Republican and Democratic parties (which would continue to deteriorate as the years passed). Still, they required some electoral massage to smooth the process.

In the tumultuous political climate leading up to the election, Gresham often found himself lost in deep thought, pacing the floor of his private library. As a patriot, he had always prioritized the well-being of his nation above all else. The specter of a divided nation troubled him immensely. The chasm between the major political parties had widened, threatening to bring legislative gridlock and, potentially, civil unrest. Gresham remembered the teachings of his youth, the need for unity, and the importance of seeking a middle ground. The idea of a unity government had always lingered in the back of his mind—a way to bridge divides and prevent stagnation. Many called him "The Reluctant Revolutionary," a moniker designed to convey his desire for compromise between the major factions in Washington.

Moreover, Gresham's association with the Farmer-Labor Party was one of circumstance rather than deep ideological alignment. He often mused that his run for the presidency was more of an independent endeavor, merely supported by the FLP. The party's radical elements, at times, made him uneasy, and he'd often find himself in disagreement with some of their more extreme stances. While he appreciated their support, Gresham never felt wholly at home with the FLP.

In whispered conversations in the corridors of power, Gresham was often heard emphasizing the need for unity and collaboration. His calls for compromise often met with furrowed brows from party hardliners, were an open secret in the political circles of Washington. For those who truly knew Gresham, it was clear that he was a man who would always prioritize the greater good over partisan politics.

 

[President Conor]

V, XXXIV: "Essentially Unimportant"

Unsurprisingly, President Benjamin Harrison was renominated as the GOP candidate when the dust settled, although it was a fiercer contest than anyone imagined. The Republicans had nominated Harrison in an attempt to stave off the flight of its voters to the FLP: President Harrison had been so concerned at its rise that he passed the Sherman Silver Purchase Act in 1890 to decrease the silver supply by permitting the US Government to purchase silver from producers in the West.

Ultimately, the Sherman Act was a half measure that hadn’t satisfied the free silver lobby, nor the western settlers who were moving away from the Republican Party for a simpler reason: tariffs. The McKinley Tariff was extremely unpopular in the West as it raised the price of food and other goods. The FLP remained wedded to the Georgist position of free land, free trade, and free people, which had attracted Gresham to the party: he broke decisively with the Republicans after the McKinley Tariff. Harrison’s attempts to quell the silver lobby also attracted the ire of the opponents of bimetallism within his own party.

President Benjamin Harrison was looking for a second term​

The Fifty-first Congress, under the Harrison administration, also witnessed sweeping legislative actions, asserting strong federal authority. Emblematic of the "Billion Dollar Congress," it was characterized by high spending, notably with the generous Civil War pensions. Key measures like the McKinley Tariff and the Sherman Silver Purchase Act reshaped the economic landscape, while the Sherman Antitrust Act aimed to regulate monopolistic practices. However, Congress's lavish expenditures and the economic strain from some policies led to public discontent. Despite substantial legislative accomplishments, the perceived fiscal irresponsibility and economic repercussions made Republicans increasingly unpopular.

The Conservative Gold Wing of the Republican Party dominated proceedings, managing the process as to sideline the calls for more radical policies from the Silver Republicans. Despite including bimetallism in its official party program, the Republican platform gave a nod to silver without genuinely embracing its tenets. This stance, along with the party's firm commitment to high tariffs and stricter immigration policies, reflected the Gold Wing's desire to maintain the economic status quo and appeal to industrial and banking interests.

The convention's political manoeuvrings were shocking to many within the political establishment. McKinley, perceived as a threat to Harrison’s candidature from the moderate-progressive wing of the party, was sidelined as he became the chairman of the convention, a politically neutral role. Blaine, another perceived challenger, decided not to seek nomination after being strongarmed by the Gold wing, which believed that Harrison could be controlled more effectively. These machinations demonstrated the internal conflicts and power plays within the party. While the party leadership successfully re-nominated Harrison, the internal fractures pointed to a party at odds with itself, struggling to unify its base.

The Republican platform’s mention of sympathy for the Democratic Federation of Iberia and persecuted Jews in Europe showed an attempt to cast a wider net of support. Still, the party's true commitment to these issues remained unclear. The overwhelming influence of the Conservative Gold Wing at the convention would have lasting implications for the Republican Party and its future direction.

Despite the ease of Harrison’s nomination, there was significant foreboding about the prospects of Harrison in the election. A prominent figure and former Republican candidate for Mayor of New York, Theodore Roosevelt, wrote to a colleague during the convention, “It seems that the country is moving away from the Grand Old Party. While President Harrison garners my endorsement and is the best placed, in my opinion, to force a compromise between the two growing factions of the country, I fear the President is doomed to be placed in the political vice. My choice, despite my endorsement, would be to support the candidacy of Gresham: a good Republican who is undoubtedly more popular than anyone associated with the current administration.”

The Democratic National Convention was a spectacle of division and debate. Passionate speeches filled the air, some met with resounding applause, and others drowned in a chorus of boos. The deep fissures within the party were evident, not just in words but in the very atmosphere of the convention hall. Democrats were fiercely divided between its Silver and Gold wings of the party and between the 'Bourbon' conservative wing and the growing progressive wing.

The establishment of the Farmer-Labor threat to its left had emboldened progressives to push a more radical program. At the same time, the Bourbon wing, in coalition with the conservative southern Democrats, maintained a hold on the party machinery and looked set to renominate Grover Cleveland for President. Cleveland was a member of the gold camp and was essentially a classical liberal, and with a rising threat to the party arriving, seen as ineffectual to the task. Senior figures believed that free trade, not free silver, would determine most voters' minds as it affected everyday costs.

Grover Cleveland, the Democratic Party candidate for the 1892 Election​

The 1892 Democratic Platform voiced strong opposition to Republican policies, including the Lodge Bill, designed to impose federal control of elections to prevent subversion of black voters, which was extremely unpopular with Southern Democrats. It also rallied against the extravagant spending of the 51st Congress, the McKinley Tariff, and the Sherman Silver Purchase Act. The Democrats expressed concern over the recent Republican convention's nomination process, seeing it as an affront to democratic ideals. They also sought protections for railway employees and a robust waterway infrastructure.

On the international stage, the Democrats condemned the oppression of various European governments towards their Jewish and Lutheran subjects. The platform backed the construction of the Nicaragua Canal, affirmed the need for a competent navy, and displayed an openness towards Canadian provinces joining the Republic. Domestically, they proposed rigorous enforcement of laws against Chinese immigration and contract foreign workmen but championed the rights of industrious immigrants. They advocated for liberal state-level appropriations for public schools, keeping parental rights in education decisions, and providing just pensions for Union war veterans.

In the end, while overtures were made to appeal to progressive voters, Cleveland dismissed the platform's progressive ideals, telling a newspaper reporter (believing he was speaking off-the-record in what might be the first ever ‘hot mic’ of American political history) that the measures were “essentially unimportant.”

 

[President Conor]

V, XXXV: A Party Betrayed
After Cleveland's nomination and his admission of empty promises to the progressive wings of his party, several members spent the campaign drifting from Cleveland and towards Gresham, and the intervention of the popular Irish Premier, Michael Davitt, further boosted Gresham's popularity on the Eastern Seaboard. Many Catholic Democrats switched to the Farmer-Labor ticket, as did many Republicans in states like New York that had links to the labour movement. Gresham's history as a former Republican also undermined President Harrison's support among an element of the Republican's former base of labourers.

As the results trickled in, a hush descended upon the Republican campaign headquarters. Faces turned grim, and some heads hung in disbelief. The mighty party had been dealt a blow, and the uncertainty of America's choice echoed in the tense murmurs of the crowd. Across the west, Republican slates had fallen to the Farmer-Labor Party, and in its other heartland, the east, it had lost New York's electoral votes and its state house. Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New Hampshire, and Delaware, each with a large Irish population, also defected to the FLP. When the electoral count was tallied, none had secured a majority of the electoral votes, but it was clear that President Harrison had been defeated, only securing 87 electoral votes.

1892 United States Presidential Electoral Vote
Grover Cleveland (Democratic) - 210 (16 States Carried)
Walter Q. Gresham (Farmer-Labor) - 147 (14 States Carried)
Benjamin Harrison (Republican) - 87 (13 States Carried)

In the Senate and House, both major parties took hits. The FLP swept state legislatures in the west, displacing Republicans primarily, but a number of states in the Great Plains, like Texas, fell to the FLP. In the following Senate elections, after these members had been voted in, the FLP caucus in the Senate grew to 15 seats. In the House, the FLP narrowly missed out on overtaking the Republicans. The Democrats emerged as the largest party in each, and Grover Cleveland with 4.2 million votes, Gresham second in the popular vote with four million, and Benjamin Harrison third, with three million. No parties controlled the legislature, and there would have to be a contingent election for the next President of the United States.

The results could not have been worse for the situation of the United States. With the situation in France deteriorating, and global trade hampered by the increasingly violent Civil War there, lawmakers on all sides agreed that time was of the essence. Lawmakers therefore agreed to the extraordinary step of calling the contingent election early, on November 13th, five days after the election to resolve any disputes about the transition of power. Essentially, this would take the form of an unofficial straw poll of the state delegations at the National Portrait Gallery, called to give the markets and wider populous a guide to the future plans and arrest investor worries.

US Senate after the Election
Democrats 38
Republicans 35
Farmer-Labor 15

US House after the Election
Democrats 175
Republicans 95
Farmer-Labor 84

National Portrait Gallery Straw Poll, First Round
Grover Cleveland (Democratic) - 16
Walter Q. Gresham (Farmer-Labor) - 14
Benjamin Harrison (Republican) - 13

National Portrait Gallery Straw Poll, Second Round
Grover Cleveland (Democratic) - 22
Walter Q. Gresham (Farmer-Labor) - 18
Benjamin Harrison (Republican) - 3

Seeing the global uncertainty, as part of the negotiations about an early contingent election, Gresham agreed with senior Democratic leadership to stand aside in exchange for the Secretary of State position, and the leader essentially defected immediately after the election finished. The FLP nominee then negotiated with several more conservative Republican delegations to bring them onside, promising a renewed all-party cabinet. In the National Portrait Gallery, Gresham sat in the viewing gallery. Word has spread that the nominee had sold his party out prior to the second ballot, but FLP members in the House simply couldn't believe it. It was done: Cleveland had secured a second term through the negotiation tactics of his rival.

The room was cold and silent as Gresham's betrayal became evident. 'After all we've built, Walter?' James H. Kyle, the vice-presidential candidate, called across the viewing gallery, his voice tinged with a mix of anger and disbelief. Gresham shifted uncomfortably, his usual eloquence failing him. “I believed in our cause,” he began, but his voice faltered under the weight of dozens of piercing eyes, "but a house divided against itself cannot stand." An onlooker shouted, “He lies! Gresham never once cared about the people, only power!”

A prominent member of the Farmer-Labor Party, James G. Field, stood up, his voice clear and unwavering, “You've traded the hopes and dreams of the American workers and farmers for a seat at their table. Your betrayal is a testament to your character, not our cause.” The room erupted in agreement, and the decision was unanimous. Once a beacon of hope for the party, Gresham was now an outcast. Even Democrats and Republicans were horrified at the betrayal, with some openly siding with the FLP on the steps of the US Capitol.

The room was thick with tension as Gresham's betrayal became clear. Faces once friendly now looked upon him with disdain. The silence was palpable, broken only by the solemn declaration of his expulsion from the Farmer-Labor Confederation. Showing his flippant disregard for the party that nominated him, he didn't even show up to the meeting expelling him.

The administration would immediately jettison free silver, nationalisation, and inflationary monetary policy, instead focusing on removing tariffs and promoting smaller government. The 1892 election is considered the end of the Third Party System and the beginning of the Fourth Party System, punctuated by gridlock and splintered government. Cleveland is considered the first modern Federalist President, as his alliance between the Democrats, who were primarily Southern, and Republicans from big industries in the north acted against the FLP and marginalised them from power as separate organisations. Defeat clutched from the jaws of victory. The Democratic-Republican Party considers the members who protested the election to be its first caucus. These three groups, the pro-Cleveland, pro-Unity Federalist Party, the anti-Cleveland, pro-reform Democratic-Republican Party, and the Farmer-Labor Party, would be the basis of the Fourth Party System.

Among Farmer-Labor supporters, Gresham became public enemy number one. They would be hurt but not unenthused by the disappointment of the Cleveland administration and keen to find a more morally sound candidate in 1896. As the dust settled on the 1892 elections, America stood at a crossroads, with the FLP licking its wounds but far from defeated. The coming years would test the nation's resolve and redefine its political identity.

Note: This chapter was updated as I had uploaded an earlier version of the piece. The only difference is the location of the "straw poll" and the date of it.

 

[President Conor]

Supplemental: The Balkan Kingdom under Carol I

From “The Powderkeg Kingdom: Balkan Kingdom 1886-1907” by R. Crampton, 1997
“Domestically, The period between 1886 and 1892 was foundational for the Balkan Kingdom, seeing the union of Romania and Bulgaria in a bid to resist larger European powers' influence and to realize a long-standing dream of Balkan unity.

While this text uses the unitary term ‘Balkan Kingdom’ to describe the state, it was, in practice, a loose personal union of the Tsardom of Bulgaria, Kingdom of Romania, and a created entity called the Grand Principality of Niš, which was created in the South and East of Serbia. Niš remained part of Serbia and was controlled in an uneasy condominium with Austria.

The state as a whole was described as the ‘Balkan Kingdom,’ or ‘Balkan Realm,’ as Carol I was King of Romania, Tsar of Bulgaria, and Grand Prince of Niš. Internally, ‘the Realm’ was used, and both were interchangeable when describing the Balkans outside of the Peninsular. Despite ruling his Realm as a collection of dynastic entities, during these transformative years, the Balkan Kingdom’s political, economic, and socio-cultural landscape underwent significant reshaping, setting the stage for the events leading up to the Turbulence.

The Russian intervention in Bulgaria and the death of Knyaz Ferdinand saw the rise of Carol I to the Bulgarian throne. This move, symbolizing the personal union of Bulgaria and Romania, faced Austrian resistance. However, the consequent Balkan War of Independence culminated in the formation of the Balkan Kingdom, marked by the expulsion of Austria hegemony in Serbia and the Kingdom’s territorial expansion. The walkback from Serbia to condominium status was controversial throughout the Realm, and was equally unpopular in the Hungarian half of the Habsburg lands, as it was seen as the first step to Romanian annexation of Transylvania.

Politics in the Realm was divided between national and Kingdom-wide spheres. The Realm was governed by a ‘Unified Diet,’ which contained representatives from the three realms. Carol appointed Stefan Stambolov as High Commissioner of the Realm, analogous to Prime Mininter or Chancellor. Carol insisted that six Vice Commissioners were appointed, split equally between Bulgarian, Romanian, and Serbian members, referred collectively as the Imperial Commission.

Stambolov lobbied Carol to establish a governance structure where Romania, Bulgaria, and the Grand Principality maintained their constitutions and laws to allow the states to feel at ease in the budding empire. While the Commission acted primarily as a coordination body, its influence was profound, especially in foreign policy and defense matters - two of its members were military advisors from the Bulgarian and Romanian Army.

While Bulgaria remained agriculturally driven with limited industry and resources, Romania presented a richer economic profile. The period saw efforts to harmonize economic policies, promote cross-border trade, and encourage foreign investments, particularly from the Accord Powers. The question of a unified currency remained unanswered, with both nations holding onto their monetary systems and Serbia continuing to use its currency.

While this could have been an issue, the country was sitting on relatively full coffers after Stambolov initiated a Realm-wide reform of tax collection, closing loopholes, especially for a group in Romania called the ‘lessers’ or intermediaries between landlords and peasants. Further reforms aimed at bulking up the national treasury for a program for a unification effort: building bridges and roads throughout the Realm, connecting the territories through rail, and also funding infrastructure projects within the wider Balkan region to impress what it saw as an emerging Great Power status on the region.

The split in the country that needed to be bridged extended to the armed forces. Carol had command over two distinct armies, which presented both strength and challenges. This joint force was the Kingdom’s bulwark against external threats, but balancing the interests, traditions, and strategies of two distinct military entities required constant diplomacy. Carol maintained a command structure for both armies, but the force was not tested enough to predict whether it could maintain unity in the threat of an invasion. Carol utilised Stambolov's enthusiasm for the project, and the presence of military commanders on the Commission, to further solidify cooperation. The ruler of the Balkan's attempts to foster a unified Balkan identity amidst inherent diversity were noteworthy.

While a broader Balkan consciousness began to take shape, Romanian and Bulgarian cultures and traditions flourished autonomously. During this period, the Kingdom showcased a unique interplay of culture, striving to amalgamate different traditions while still allowing individual identities to shine.

The Martenitsa Festival, a Bulgarian tradition symbolizing the arrival of spring, began to gain popularity in parts of Romania, often blending with Romanian customs related to Mărțișor. Conversely, Romanian literary works, such as those by Mihai Eminescu, saw translations into Bulgarian and were embraced for their universal themes.

Art also became a bridge between the two nations. Bulgarian and Romanian artists collaborated in joint exhibitions, showcasing the shared themes of hope, struggle, and unity in their artworks. Theater troupes from Sofia and Bucharest frequently toured each other's countries, performing plays that subtly emphasized Balkan unity and shared heritage. This cultural exchange was not one-sided; Bulgarian writers such as Ivan Vazov began to focus on themes that while intrinsically Bulgarian, resonated with the broader Balkan experiences, particularly the shared Ottoman past and the dream of a united future. His publication of Under the Yoke, a book that presents the Ottoman repression of the peninsular, was published in Romanian, Bulgarian, and Serbian, and read widely in each of the Kingdoms.

The Kingdom’s foreign policy was a tightrope walk. While fostering ties with the Accord Powers, the Balkan Realms faced non-cooperation from traditional European juggernauts Russia. While Austria officially tolerated the Balkan Realms, it continued to treat each state as separate, and sent ambassadors to Sofia and Bucharest. Stambolov's diplomacy sought to seek further recognition of the unified arrangement, and protect Balkan strategic interests without overly antagonizing any major power. While Carol still maintained autonomy over foreign affairs, it was expected that should it impact a few factors: the territory of the Realms, the Crown’s relationship with the Austrians and Russians, and decisions with implications for Pan-Balkanism, would always be consulted with the Unified Diet.

While coming from Catholic lineage, Carol confirmed the domination of Eastern Orthodoxy in his realms. The recognition of the Romanian, Bulgarian, and Serbia Patriarchs on equal footing, dominant within their own spheres, as well as Catholic and Protestants, coupled with oppressive state-sanctioned measures against non-Christians, marked this period. Carol walked an impressive tightrope between these branches of the Orthodox faith, often eternally quarrelling. Carol's pronouncement that his realms would welcome 'all of the Orthodox and Christian faiths' led to heated rivalry between the Romanian and Bulgarian Patriarchs. The Monarchs ability to play them off one another and balance their interests was testament to his ability as a unifying Monarch.

The preeminence of Eastern Orthodoxy under Carol's reign was both a uniting and divisive factor within the Kingdom. While it offered a common religious platform for Romanians, Bulgarians, and Serbians, it also meant the marginalization of other religious communities, especially Muslims, Jews, and other non-Christians. Religious festivals and holidays, predominantly Eastern Orthodox in nature, were promoted as national events, further entrenching its dominance. However, this overt favoritism led to growing discontent among other religious communities. Muslims, who had coexisted in the Balkans for centuries, found themselves sidelined, with many mosques either being appropriated or repurposed, leading to silent protests and passive resistance.

In parts of Bulgaria, where Catholic communities were significant, there were reports of subtle tensions, especially during religious festivals. The state's heavy-handed approach in suppressing non-Orthodox religious expressions was a ticking time bomb, threatening the Kingdom's internal cohesion. Although outright revolts were rare, there was an undercurrent of unrest, a silent dissent that echoed in the Kingdom's quieter corners.

The implications were deep-seated, marginalising significant portions of the population, especially non-Christian landless peasants. The years 1886-1892 witnessed a burgeoning of educational institutions in both countries of the Kingdom. Carol's personal initiatives, like learning Bulgarian and Serbo-Croat to speak with all of his subjects, symbolized the leadership's intent to bridge linguistic divides. However, each state continued its educational trajectory in its native tongue, and maintaining linguistic parity proved costly in administration, leading to a cumbersome quarrel between Romanian and Bulgarian to be the ‘primal’ language of the state.

Northern Serbia's potential inclusion in the Kingdom remained a significant talking point. Carol and the Commission were acutely aware of such a move's repercussions, especially vis-à-vis Austria. Consequently, while there were diplomatic overtures, a full integration did not materialize during this period. As the Kingdom solidified its foundations, the dream of a united Balkan State, including nations like Greece, Montenegro, Bosnia, and Croatia, began to gain momentum. The leadership envisioned a formidable entity, able to hold its own in the tumultuous European political landscape.

The years 1886-1892 marked a transformative era for the Balkan Kingdom, symbolizing a bold step towards regional unity amidst the backdrop of European politics. King Carol I's vision of a united Balkan entity sought to thread together diverse cultural, economic, and political landscapes. While successes were aplenty, from the blending of cultural identities to the establishment of an influential Unified Diet, challenges persistently loomed. The Kingdom's inception, grounded in the aspirations of unity and sovereignty, set the trajectory for future dynamics. As the Balkan Kingdom navigated its foundational years, the dream of an expansive united Balkan State continued to simmer, hinting at the vast potential and challenges that lay ahead.”

 

[President Conor]

V, XXXVI: The Early War

The forces of rebellion in France after the mutiny all had a common goal, but poor efforts at centralising leadership meant that the pro-Boulanger forces initially sat on the back foot. In the early days after Bastille Day, the country was divided between rebel-held land, controlled and patrolled by the Fédérés, the Mutineers, and the National Guard, and the lands controlled by the Legislative Assembly, the King, an organised and armed police force, and the rest of the domestic French Army.

The advantage initially held with the more organised and stronger Royal forces, even with the enthusiastic abandon and passion of the Fédérés. A fluid front line, with Fédéré-held cities and Royal cities often retaining trade between merchants and the free movement of civilians, meant there was little difference for French citizens in much of the country, except for the colour of the soldier's armbands on the streets. The truth was most of the country sat in a grey area: the dislocation of having the Republic, the State with Boulanger, then suddenly the King left many feeling a little confused, and many were not sure who was in charge anymore.

As their territory expanded around France, especially along the Southern border, the Fédérés established a 'Soldiers Executive.' This new body, featuring high-ranking militia leaders, would act as a centralized command structure. While a national body was, in theory, the sole command structure, the command was in practice divided into three divisions: South (including all of the Southern and Eastern enclaves), North (stemming from the Lille Commune out), and the West (from the Lyon Commune).

The Fédérés were part paramilitary, part anti-authority gang, and part community organisation, providing security for the communes. They would protect working-class neighbourhoods, facilitate the forced requisitioning of property to be collectivised, and attempt to intimidate the Police into submission to take over a neighbourhood - often through street murders and haphazard assassination by groups of young men, who derided Police and any state official as collaborators. If the police abandoned the area, the rebels often rid the towns they controlled of anyone with any resemblance of wealth or status - burning homes, stealing and looting, and destroying property. Wherever there were Fédérés, there were also assassinations, public murders in broad daylight, and weapons raids in Royalist towns and cities.

While workers were generally pro-Boulanger, the middle and upper classes had split loyalties. Families were divided by the conflict; many members of the same family would end up fighting against each other. Many still ate dinner together in the early days of the campaign. Though at the outset of the mutiny, the Grand Chancellery was thrown into chaos, the command of General de Boisdeffre had a positive and calming impact, and the French Army was able to regain its footing.

King Louis-Phillippe II of the French, French Head of State June 1892 - March 1893​

Initially, King Louis-Phillipe appealed to clemency and indicated that any Fédérés could return to the fold of the French Army and society if the rebellion were halted and residents could and should return to the cities. The exodus had dislocated production and disrupted deliveries, meaning the remaining residents were about to starve. In its early capacity, the Army prevented a famine by establishing temporary grain silos on the outskirts of Paris using forcibly requisitioned grain. Due to this leniency, Paris saw thousands of Fédérés among returning refugees, hidden in plain site.

Despite the King’s olive branch, the tensions between the Royalists and the Fédérés continued to escalate. Murmurings of the illegitimacy of the state in many quarters took the form of violent protests over symbols of the Monarchy, attacks on foreign-owned businesses, and subsequently a crime wave spread among many cities not held by rebel forces. The simmering discontent among these elements soon reached a boiling point, manifesting in a deadly assassination attempt on the King on September 5th. On a dreary morning overshadowed by grey clouds, the Royal entourage ventured through the heart of Paris amidst a crowd gathered in a mix of reverence and dissent. The scene was tense, with nervous glances exchanged among the Royal guards as murmurs swirled through the crowd.

Suddenly, as the King's carriage navigated through the crowd, a sharp, haunting crack of a gunshot tore through the air, immediately followed by muffled screams and gasps from the crowd. The bullet narrowly missed the King, who sat stunned, his face pale but composed. The guards acted swiftly, surrounding the King and apprehending the assailant, a 24-year-old former soldier, from amidst the chaos. The image of the King's shaken but unharmed figure amidst the stern faces of his guards was etched into the minds of onlookers, a stark testament to the simmering unrest that had gripped the nation. The front page of a leading Royalist newspaper was adorned with the headline, "The early war is over. The revenge has begun."

After this, the Army under General de Boisdeffre was given free rein to root out the rebels. The Police had found that up to 250 Fédérés were hidden around the city. When a local leader was arrested as part of the plot, the Fédérés kidnapped the Paris Police Prefect, Henri-Auguste Lozé. The streets of Paris were a portrait of chaos as news of the Police Prefect's kidnapping spread like wildfire. The city's core was paralyzed by a torrent of fear and uncertainty, with people rushing towards their homes and peering through windows at the ominous sea of unrest flooding the streets.

Paris Police Prefect, Henri-Auguste Lozé​

The Prefect's abduction was not just an attack on law and order but a brazen challenge to the authority that had, until now, held the fragile peace together. The anguish of the Police force was palpable as they rampaged into a rebel safehouse, the desperation in their eyes reflecting the gnawing fear of a city on the brink. Lozé's body was found in a suitcase on the banks of the Seine when the Government refused to hand over the prisoners. Finally, the King pronounced a full state of emergency and empowered de Boisdeffre to rid the city of infiltrators.

Two hundred Fédérés, seeing the desperation of their situation, barricaded themselves into the seat of the Legislative Assembly, so the General opened fire using Artillery on September 10th. The evening sky was ablaze, not with the colours of a sunset, but the fury of artillery as shells rained down upon the Legislative Assembly. The once majestic structure now lay vulnerable under a hailstorm of iron and fire. The sight of the Palais Bourbon, now shrouded in smoke and flames, was a harrowing symbol of a democracy under siege and a nation in chaos. As the embers cooled amidst the rubble, the hope of reconciliation seemed to be buried in the ashes of the Assembly, leaving behind a city yearning for a respite from the relentless spectre of war.

After three days, the Fédérés surrendered. Of the 204 inside, 122 had been killed, and the rest were transferred to La Santé Prison. General de Boisdeffre, using his newfound power from the first significant victory against the rebels, urged the King to dismiss the Grand Chancellery and appoint a new, more competent one. The King obliged. Dillon was dismissed, and Henri Chevreau was appointed in his place. Chevreau was a puppet for the whims of the military, and after the Legislative Assembly bombing, all grandeur of democratic values was cast aside. A makeshift Assembly was convened at, of all places, the Hôtel de Ville in Paris, and it voted to vest powers in the King and the Grand Chancellery until the Emergency had passed, which could be extended indefinitely with only the approval of the King. It would never meet again.

Henri Chevreau, Grand Chancellor of France, September 1892 - March 1893​

Chevreau and General de Boisdeffre coordinated Police, Gendarmerie units, and Army patrols to snuff out the Fédérés threat. Paris was put under lockdown, and door-to-door searches returned for mutineers, Fédérés, and CGT members. In the first weeks of September, the French Army imprisoned 800 suspected sympathisers in Paris alone and conducted raids across the North and Northeast. Outside these areas, they attempted to break strongholds by attempting to regain control of Fédéré-held cities but struggled. The remaining organisers in Paris (although there were many more sympathisers) dispersed, and many joined the Northern Division.

Outside of Paris, Insurrectionary France responded by ceasing free movement between towns and establishing checkpoints across its territory. Front lines were being drawn. Foreign powers, like Britain and Germany, sent flirtatious messages to the Royal Court with promises of sending weapons, providing finance, and even providing troops to secure the Kingdom in exchange for France’s adherence to the Accord Powers order. General de Boisdeffre, believing he could rid France of the rebels on his own, responded to guerrilla tactics of the rebels through covert and guerrilla warfare himself, including assassination, sabotage, arson, and ambushes of Fédérés conducted by the covert Deuxieme Bureau in royalist and rebel territory. The DB also found and murdered known financiers, supporters, and journalists associated with the rebellion nationwide.

In response to this, the Fédérés launched a daring raid on known armouries in Paris, the South and the West. Conducted successfully over the course of two nights, September 17th and 18th, the rebels burned out police stations, army barracks, and private stores across Royalist-held territory. They seized over 25,000 rifles and 3,000,000 rounds of ammunition from right under Chevreau and General de Boisdeffre’s noses. Seizing so much weaponry greatly embarrassed the government, infuriating de Boisdeffre and causing him to propose drastic action.

De Boisdeffre advocated launching a major offensive to retake rebel-controlled cities completely and raised a force of nearly 23,000 men, mostly conscripts and returnees from Spain, to fan out and place the entirety of the rebel-held areas under military occupation. Beginning on September 21st, the offensive was initially successful, but quickly, barricades and checkpoints were hastily built by both sides, and the Fédérés, Mutineers, and National Guard dug in.

Fresh with new weaponry, the Fédérés rushed to defend their gains, and after a couple of bloody days, a stalemate quickly emerged along the extent of the territories. The French Army Command backed off, leading to firmer and frozen frontlines in the conflict. Travel was possible but very dangerous, so the leadership of the rebels became more decentralised. Fédéré-held France was sealed off and would have to fight its way out. As the summer dwindled, over the next few days, the Fédérés and French Army had locked themselves in a rotating battle of exchanging small amounts of territory at high cost.

Exiled to Elba, General Boulanger was portrayed as the nation's saviour from this emerging hell. An editorial from an Actionist journal in Toulouse summed up the feelings of the people:

“As France navigates through the tumultuous waters of political discontent and social disarray, the spectre of Générallissime Boulanger looms large, encapsulating the aspirations and the indomitable spirit of a nation yearning for deliverance. The valorous son of our soil, exiled to the isle of Elba, has transcended the mortal coil to become a symbol, an epitome of resistance against the suffocating chokehold of a monarchy that gasps for relevance in a nation clamouring for change.

Boulanger's military prowess is but one facet of the diamond that is his enduring legacy. His philosophical musings, articulated eloquently in the shadows of exile, have reverberated through the heartland of France, kindling the flames of hope amidst the despairing souls. His vision of a united France, bereft of the shackles of class distinction, where every son and daughter of this revered land can bask in the glory of fraternity, equality, and liberty, resonates with the ethos of every true-blooded Frenchman and woman.

The burgeoning emergence of the ideology of our movement, under the astute mentorship of the exiled Generallisme Boulanger, promises a sanctuary from the tempest of royal excesses and exploitative capitalism. This solidarity seeks to bind the scattered shards of our nation into a coherent, indomitable force capable of reclaiming the inherently French grandeur.

The Fédérés are the custodians of a legacy that seeks to emancipate France from the fetters of degradation and spur a renaissance of French identity, culture, and military prowess. They venerate the essence of being French and seek to restore the luminescent halo of dignity that once crowned the brows of our ancestors.

The Royalists may barricade the gates of Paris, they may beckon the forces of the old world to cling onto a crumbling past, but the indomitable spirit of Action, forged in the crucible of Boulanger’s indomitable resolve, is poised to engulf the dark shadows of oppression and illuminate the path towards a future where the Tricolore will flutter majestically over a land of the liberty, equality, fraternity, and nation.”

As the dust settled over the embattled streets, the narrative of General Boulanger echoed through every alley and household, inciting a fervour of anticipation among the restless citizenry. Meanwhile, in the Royal courts, whispers of an uncertain yet resolute future carried the hopes of a Kingdom clinging to the vestiges of order. The paths laid before the nation were as divergent as the ideologies that forged them, each beckoning France towards a destiny intertwined with either the resolute echo of tradition or the fervent cries for change. As the silhouette of the General loomed over the horizon and the Royal standards fluttered amidst the autumn breeze, the impending clash of ideals was but a dawn away, promising to shape the heart and soul of a nation on the precipice of destiny.

 

[President Conor]

V, XXXVII: The Balkan Detente

The turmoil in France triggered a wave of consternation in Vienna and St. Petersburg, the erstwhile allies of France. The mutinies, the threats to the state, and the loss of life were reported in newspapers and journals within days of their occurrence. In the opening weeks represented a shocking but distant twist in both countries, but a greater sense of worry among economic and political elites at the financial situation grew as the implications of the breakdown of France were contemplated.

France, under its pre-Civil War governance, wielded significant influence across the two Empires. Its sphere extended beyond its immediate borders, encompassing a network of treaties and mutual defense pacts with nations such as Russia and Austria, both of which viewed France as a valuable counterbalance to the rising German and British alliance. However, tensions within France and its subsequent civil war threatened to upend this delicate balance, leading to potential shifts in alliances and strategic priorities for all the major European powers. As France grappled with its internal strife, its allies and adversaries alike watched closely, calculating their next moves in a continent where the balance of power was perpetually in flux.

Austrians commemorate the Battle of Nis in Hofburg, 1891​

The internal strife caused significant dislocation in European diplomacy. Feeling that they could become diplomatically isolated after the cancellation of the Reinsurance Treaty with Germany, Austria had found an alliance of practicality with Boulanger’s France before the Civil War. This practicality extended to financial matters: French banks had underwritten the meagre industrialisation the Austrian economy undertook in the late 1880s and early 1890s. The threat of a lack of access to credit arising from the Civil War severely worried the Austrians, who feared turning to British or German banks for help. In the cooling of relations after the Balkan Affair, German banks refused an Austrian loan in 1890 despite lobbying by Vienna, furthering tensions between the countries.

In Moscow, a St Petersburg journal wondered whether the “loss of France and its potential collapse into anarchy again begs the question of whether Russia stands defiant and alone in the Concert of Nations." Tsar Alexander III, a close friend of Boulanger, was torn between aristocratic sensitivities and his personal respect for the Généralissime. Nikolay Girs, the Russian Foreign Minister, encouraged the Tsar to maintain an aloof position, favouring neither, to ensure that Russia’s interests would be met, whatever the outcome of the internal strife in what acted essentially as Russia’s sole creditor. Complicating the matter further, Boulanger was extremely popular in Russia, as he was credited with saving many during the 1891 Russian Famine through aid donations.

Similarly, Austria’s Foreign Minister, Count Gustav Kálnoky, was unsure how to proceed following the unrest in France. Two scenarios were laid out by dour diplomats and economists in Hofburg, neither particularly appealing. The first, in the event of a victory for the Kingdom of France, would be that the destruction caused by a conflict would be so great France would step back from its international financial commitments, and French banks, looking for funds, would call in their international debts. This would cause an economic shockwave that would tear through Vienna, risking social instability. The second would be a blatant threat to the social order in Europe in the form of a Fédérés-run France - with or without Boulanger's influence. Even at this stage, the no faction looked certain to control France and at this stage the conflict had not really begun.

Austrian Foreign Minister, Count Gustav Kálnoky​

Both scenarios left the Habsburgs sweating: they both presented situations where they would be with fewer allies and surrounded by states governed by the Hohenzollerns - Germany and the Balkan Realm. In private, Emperor Franz Joseph was said to be apoplectic at the idea of the encirclement of his Empire by Prussia, and believing the Kingdom of France would surely collapse, he and his advisors aimed to insulate themselves from this strife by pursuing two objectives; maintaining equidistance from both sides in the French conflict while officially recognising the monarchy, and attempting to remove themselves from isolation by breaking the encirclement.

Calculations involving the domestic situation also weighed heavily. The Kingdom of Hungary, the partner in the Habsburg realm of Austria, was vehemently opposed to any attempt to unsettle the Balkan Realm, given the large numbers of constituent peoples, especially Romanians, within its territory. The Realm represented a different threat to the Hungarian lands: mutilation by the Romanians in a land based war to unite its lands into a single nation combined with its Balkan lands and the stoking of ethnic hatred that characterised and dominated Hungarian thinking on this domestic affairs.

The unification of the Balkan territories into a personal union on its border meant that Hungarian perspectives on the state policy of favoring Ethnic Hungarians, Magyarisation, changed somewhat. Ethnic Hungarians, or Magyars, representing 54% of the population, remained stringently supportive of the policy, which sought to standardise the Hungarian language as the language of daily life. Still, it remained a controversial policy with the country's minorities. A crucial difference between Hungary and non-Hungarian lands was the importance of the Hungarian Diet in politics. In Austria, the Imperial Council was a stoic and quiet body; In Hungary, the Parliament carried significant weight - formally the Diet of Hungary crowned the Monarch, and the Hungarian nobility in particular were influential.

The governing Liberal Party, overwhelmingly supported by ethnic minorities and the Jewish minority in urban areas, made moves to integrate minorities as a whole more into society and force Magyars to recognise and support minority rights. This was no easy task. It faced opposition from Nobles, Magnates, and elements of the Army who wished to enforce a unified Magyar identity in the region. Hungarian Nationalists also opposed the Liberal Party due to its support for the Habsburg’s compromise to create to Dual Monarchy. The Liberals' support from ethnic minorities, its support for Austria and the compromise, and its policy of reversal of Magyarisation combined to give Magyars a sense that the Liberals were against them.

Its opposition, the Independence Party, was ruinously split about how to approach European affairs. A nationalist right-wing, supporting an alliance with Germany against the Austrians, and a left-wing, which began to understand the need for cooperation with minorities and potentially countries like Iberia and Britain to save the future of Hungary, began to emerge. Its division perpetuated the rule of the Liberal Party: the January 1892 Hungarian Diet election, thanks to splits between the left and right of the Independence movement, ensured another victory for Gyula Szapáry’s technocratic government.

Gyula Szapáry, Prime Minister of Hungary​

Moreover, this split was increased as the new Parliament saw increased cooperation between the Liberals and the left wing of the Independence Party to enact new laws to unify the differing ethnic groups within the Honved, the Hungarian Army, after negotiating with the Common Ministry in Vienna in September 1892. Some of the more regressive Magyarisation policies in the army were lessened in October. While the remaining right-wing of the Independence Party was angered by the reforms, it placated a large amount of the non-Magyar population. The groundswell in support of conciliation was strengthened by the growth of Internationalism in Hungary, especially from pacifists who wanted to avoid war - a growing movement among the limited Democratic and Social Democratic scenes. The anti-war and pro-peace sentiment in Hungary, as well as Austria, impacted the course of decisions made in Vienna.

Emperor Franz Joseph travelled to St. Petersburg for a state visit in November 1892 to discuss the European situation with the Russian Tsar. The Winter Palace was a spectacle in November. Its grandeur, accentuated by the dusting of snow on its rooftops, became the stage for a meeting of two titans. Within its gilded halls, beneath crystal chandeliers and surrounded by artworks of the Renaissance, Emperor Franz Joseph and Alexander III met, surrounded by the whispers of advisors and the distant clinking of glasses.

With France seemingly turning its back on Catholicism with the movement to laicise religion, Austria was left as the major Catholic power on the continent, and with Russia seeing itself as the protector of all Orthodox Christians, the two believed a continued alliance would assist the maintenance of Christian values in the face of secular threats from liberal democracy and Actionism alike.

Without the bellicose French in their sphere of orbit, the two believed that defensive and protective measures, rather than offensive measures, would be more prudent until the situation in France crystalised. The two powers’ major point of agreement, their opposition to Carol I’s Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen dynasty and control of the Balkans, had not gone away but had subsided somewhat. After the meeting, they exchanged letters on the subject, Franz Joseph wrote the following week:

“The winds of change blowing from France have not spared any corner of our continent. In these tumultuous times, it is paramount that like-minded monarchs come together, find common ground, and ensure the stability of our realms - I am exceedingly glad of your time and appreciate your wise counsel. It seems to me that a rapprochement with Sofia and Bucharest is the best answer. ”

Alexander III replied, agreeing with the Austrian Emperor:

“Your sentiments echo my own. France's unrest reverberates in the hallowed halls of our palaces and the humble abodes of our citizens. I eagerly await our next meeting. Let us stand united in the face of uncertainty.”

Concurrently, the Balkan Crown, itself suffering from the paranoia of being surrounded by hostile Great Powers, believed that a diplomatic effort to insulate itself from wider ramifications of the conflict in France would be necessary. In April 1892, as the consternation in Europe was bubbling under the surface, King Carol I believed that instability in Europe, catagorised at that time by the fluctuation in Britain after the March Massacres, would lead to lower security for his Realm, believing that the lack of French support for Austria and Russia would push them towards to renewed hostility with the Balkans. Therefore, Carol I took the initiative in May and established an informal talks with his neighbouring hostile powers. Without the knowledge of the Unified Diet or the Commission, he had negotiated an agreement between the Balkan Kingdom, Russia, and Austria-Hungary to address key grievances - and to recognise the Realm.

King Carol I of the Balkan Realms​

Russia and the Balkan Realm dictated an agreement to avoid a land war and recognized each other's borders. Austria-Hungary agreed to the division of Serbia, an de facto arrangement since the end of the Balkan War of Independence, formally between the new rump Kingdom of Serbia, ruled by the deposed, pro-Austrian Alexander of the House of Obrenović, and the Principality of Niš ruled by the heir-presumptive of the Romanian and Bulgarian crowns, Ferdinand.

The Balkan Kingdom and Montenegrins, who had signed an assistance treaty with Austria the year before bringing the Principality well within its orbit, would split influence over Iskodre Sanjack, lands occupied by Albanian Tribes, and the Berat Sanak of in the Manastire Vilayet, which de facto remained in the Ottoman crown - although the Sublime Porte would have no influence on the region.

When details of this agreement were leaked two weeks before Bastille Day 1892, the reaction in the Balkan world was incredulous. Serbia was incensed that it had been partitioned by of all countries the Balkan Realm, and diplomats in Berlin and London were concerned they hadn’t been consulted. The results of the treaty were threefold: the Balkan Realm was recognized by all the major powers with the exception of France, whom was at war and did not take part in the negotiations, and the Ottomans, whose influence on Europe was considered null. The belief in the Sublime Porte, held since their loss in the Russo-Turkish War that they would regain the Balkans, was firmly put to bed, and this accelerated their decline.

The revelation of the secret treaty sent shockwaves throughout the Balkan Realm and beyond, making headlines in major newspapers worldwide. In the heart of the controversy, Bulgaria's Edinstvo bemoaned the betrayal of Pan-Balkanism, echoing the sentiment of many locals who felt their dreams and aspirations had been traded away by monarchs. The editorial, posted along with the leaked details of the agreement, said:

"The ambitions of the crowned heads once again overshadow the dreams and aspirations of the Balkan people. It is a bitter pill to swallow, seeing territories we hold dear bartered away in darkened chambers."

This sentiment was mirrored internationally, with The New York Times highlighting the monarchs' willingness to manipulate geopolitical boundaries, describing it as a "hidden game of chess" now exposed.

Across the Channel, the Sunday Republic from the Union of Britain sharply criticized the "duplicity of the European elite," contrasting their own nation's democratic values with the apparent readiness of Balkan monarchies to treat territories as commodities. Annie Besant responded to the diplomatic news:

"The unveiled secret pact is a testament to the duplicitous dealings of the European elite. While the Union of Britain remains no harbinger of the values of the people, monarchies like the parties to the agreement are shown to be willing to trade territories and allegiances like mere commodities."

Meanwhile, France's Action Francaise viewed the unfolding drama in the Balkans through the prism of their own national rejuvenation, urging France to be vigilant. It said:

"While France rises like a phoenix from its own ashes, the Balkans present a tapestry of intrigue and double-dealing. It remains to be seen how this revelation affects the delicate balance of power in our continent. France must watch and act wisely."

The worldwide consensus was clear: the leaked agreement had opened a Pandora's box of diplomatic machinations that could reshape Europe's political landscape.

While Carol’s influence on Romanian politics was assured, his political control over the much more revolutionary, free-minded, and nationalistic Bulgarians was looser. While being allocated the Romanian Crown, he was gifted the Bulgarian state by the people themselves through an uprising, so the relationship was tenser. Anti-Russian sentiment, stemming from the occupation after the Russo-Turkish War, continued to fester among the Bulgarians (although after the publication of a report accusing Russia of planting spies in Romania, the feeling was commonplace across Carol’s realm). Pan-Slavic and Pan-Balkan sentiment was rising, and the decision to divide Serbia was considered a betrayal of the Pan-Balkan dreams of the realm in its infancy.

In Russia, the decision was even more controversial. Among the populous, the decision to give much of the Balkans away to German ruling families was akin to treason. From the iconic steps of the Winter Palace, the voice of the people was clear. Mass protests erupted, with thousands waving Serbian flags, chanting slogans like "For our Slavic kin!" and "Down with German aggression!" The mood was one of betrayal, with many seeing the occupation as a direct challenge to Russia's historical role as the protector of the Slavs.

Russia’s position, defending its interests but abandoning its historical claims to Slavic land, furthered discontentment among a population already growing after the Russian Famine. In a particularly telling editorial in The Russian Bulletin, the sentiment was echoed: "The Austrians and Prussians move freely in Slavic lands, while Great Russia stands by and watches? The heart of every Russian bleeds at this sight. The bonds of faith, culture, and blood tie us to our Slavic brothers in the Balkans. How can we let an outsider occupy their land? Would the great General Boulanger allow anything of the sort for his French people?"

Bulgarian journalists criticised the hitherto untouchable Balkan monarch, and public anti-Austrian and anti-Russian sentiment rose exponentially. Still, Carol reserved his right to impose his will on the realm as monarch of the union and believed in foreign policy matters; he was not required to justify his actions. He would have to justify his behaviour to the rest of the Accord Powers and would choose to do so through the Foreign Commission, led by Stefan Stambolov. Carol proclaimed the annexation of his Serb lands formally into the Balkan Realm a day before Bastille Day, and a Romanian-Bulgarian joint force moved into the area around Elbasan, Berat, Fier, Vlore, and Gjirokaster.

Carol I paced his chambers, overwhelmed by the weight of decisions that lay on his shoulders. The tapestries from his Romanian homeland provided little comfort as he grappled with the prospect of dividing lands and navigating the intricate tapestry of European diplomacy. There was a fire in him, a vision he harbored for the Balkans — but with each step, he felt the crushing weight of compromise. The sentiment across his Realm, fiery and full of zeal, constantly contrasted with his more pragmatic approach, making each decision a delicate dance between ideals and reality.

 

[President Conor]

V, XXXVIII: The Sassnitz Conference​

Carol’s treaty with the Austrians and Russians caused consternation among the cabinets of Europe, further adding to the angst felt in capitals across the continent. Balkan Premier Stambolov was sent to Sassnitz to meet with Senator Cecil, Prime Minister Chamberlain, and German Chancellor Von Caprivi and discuss the situation, and a meeting was called between the core of Britain, Germany, and Italy's allies on the continent - Britain, Belgium, the Netherlands, Iberia, Germany, Italy, and the Balkan Realm.

Recognising a diplomatic effort was required, Carol I travelled concurrently to Potsdam to meet with the Kaiser for a thorough dressing down by Wilhelm. But there were the to attend to - most notably the turmoil in France, turning the event into a wider meeting of leading allies in Europe. Discussions on their collective response, the red lines for intervention, and the broader approach to the two excluded powers, Austria and Russia, were also on the table and all the more pressing, given events in Bucharest.

The conference of Foreign Ministers, Heads of State, and diplomats saw representation from the Democratic Federation of Iberia (FDI) for the first time. Concerned about the threat to its borders and fresh from ridding its territory of invading forces, the FDI could finally sit at the table. Manuel Zorrilla headed the diplomatic delegation at the German resort appointed by members of Congress to represent the Federation, now encapsulating all of the Iberian peninsular.

Isle of Rugen, where most of the diplomats and government officials stayed during deliberations. ​

Over the course of their stay in Sassnitz, the collective powers discussed three ongoing situations on the continent, with the aim of furthering cooperation among them while protecting each individual nation's interests and prestige. These issues were the situation in the Balkan Peninsular, its effect on the ongoing decline of the Ottoman Empire, and its response to the unrest in France.

Part I - The Balkan Question​

As the delegates met for a plenary session on September 28th, news was emerging from the Balkans on an almost daily basis. The morning of the first meeting between the Germans, British, Greeks, and Balkan Realm was punctuated by a messenger announcing that Montenegro annexed its gains from the Ottoman Empire into its Kingdom, a highly controversial move given the powers were discussing the issue. Russia and Vienna announced later that day that it supported the claim.

As news of the annexation broke out, the corridors of power across Europe buzzed with frenetic activity. In the British Senate, Senator Arthur Balfour, Secretary for War, faced a barrage of questions, the opposition demanding clarity on Britain's stance. Balfour indicated that the opinion of the government was that the annexation was not in line with agreements signed between Austria and Britain in the past and that despite Montenegro’s control of the territory, the British saw this as an annexation by Austria, which violated treaties signed between the Great Powers in the region. Austria sent no representatives to the conference, but while in Sassnitz, the Austrian Ambassador in Berlin was summoned to give an explanation.

In Berlin, the mood was one of strategic urgency as the German Chancellor convened an emergency session with his key advisors. Amid the shadows cast by the flickering candles, maps of Europe, especially the Balkans, were spread wide, each territory marked and potential alliances considered. 'We stand at a crossroads,' the Chancellor declared, his finger pausing at the territories affected by the Montenegro annexation. 'The stability we've sought in the Balkans faces a new test, and our strategies must evolve accordingly.'

Discussions ensued on the delicate balance of power, the potential threat to German interests in the region, and the domino effect the annexation could trigger. Proposals were tabled, ranging from diplomatic outreach to strengthen ties with Greece and Montenegro to military posturing as a deterrent and even covert support for nationalist movements to create a buffer zone. Each option was debated at length, factoring in the possible reactions from other European powers, especially Russia and the Austro-Hungarian Empire. The Chancellor, aware that any misstep could ignite the tinderbox that was the Balkans, finally drafted a multi-pronged approach. This new strategy emphasized diplomatic engagement backed by a display of military readiness, aiming to secure Germany's interests while preventing a descent into widespread conflict.

Nikola I of Montenegro​

The Principality of Montenegro, while often perceived as a satellite of Austria-Hungary, demonstrated a more nuanced diplomatic stance under Nikola I. The Prince, navigating the convoluted geopolitics of the time, had his agenda. Ensuring the security and autonomy of his realm was paramount, which he sought to achieve through territorial expansion and strategic alliances. However, the Prince was wary of the growing ambitions of neighboring powers, particularly the Balkan Realm and Austria-Hungary, whose expansionist policies threatened Montenegro's sovereignty. Understanding Montenegro's actions and the Prince's decisions requires a deep dive into this intricate interplay of regional politics, alliances, and the nation's quest for sovereignty amidst the Great Powers' rivalry.

Nikola's push for annexation was not merely opportunistic but a calculated move to fortify his nation's borders against potential aggression. He engaged in a delicate dance of diplomacy, seeking to bolster ties with Russia, traditionally a protector of Slavic nations while maintaining a cautious relationship with Austria-Hungary. Inside Montenegro, this approach was a tightrope walk, balancing the aspirations of nationalist factions advocating for greater independence and those favoring closer ties with influential neighbors for security.

When Montenegro indicated that it would reject any ultimatum put forward by the Ottomans on October 6th, Britain, Italy, the Balkan Realm, and Greece readied warships to blockade the country, but finally, the Austrians agreed to sponsor any indemnity in exchange for the formal complete withdrawal and denial of claims by the Ottomans in the Balkans. Austria, therefore, put a wedge between itself and the Ottomans, but in the end, the gamble worked.

With worries about a wider conflict to contain France abound, the Great Powers could only posture and felt insecure about an attack. The warships turned back, and the Ottomans were urged to accept the counter-ultimatum. After nearly 600 years, Ottoman claims in the Balkans were finally rescinded on October 9th - a day still celebrated across the region. The Great Powers understood this for what it was - a confirmation of the end of Ottoman influence on world politics and the green light to decimate its empire.

The breakneck speed of the diplomatic events discombobulated the delegates in Sassnitz, but once the crisis abated, the discussion turned to the undermining of Accord unity by the Balkan Realm. While Stambolov admitted he knew nothing of the discussions between Carol, Alexander, and Franz Joseph and was unaware of any illegal annexations, he reiterated the country's general commitment to its allies. He argued that the agreement was defensive and didn’t affect its general foreign policy. He said, “We are preventing the destruction of the personal union of Balkan people we fought so hard for by securing our interests and deescalating tensions between once hostile neighbouring powers.”

In a strategic move that underscores the fragile balance of power in the region, the Balkan Realm entered into intricate negotiations with Greece. The crux of the deal involved an exchange of territories, most notably Salonika, for specific areas under Balkan control. This territorial re-alignment was meticulously crafted to appeal to the British, allowing them to support the arrangement without significantly offending Russia or Austria. Key to this was a series of confidential assurances from both countries, affirming that the exchange would not upset the regional status quo or threaten their strategic interests.

However, the deal ignited contention with the Ottomans, who viewed any expansion of Greek borders as a direct affront to their historical claims and regional influence. Despite their waning power, the Ottomans leveraged their lingering ties with other European powers to voice their opposition, hinting at the potential for escalated conflict should the deal proceed without addressing their concerns.

The Balkan Realm, acutely aware of the multi-faceted geopolitical implications, saw the deal as a necessary compromise. Beyond bringing Britain onside, the exchange was part of a larger, more complex diplomatic strategy. The Realm was looking to strengthen its international standing and secure future support for its political and economic initiatives. Moreover, it recognised the value of a more cooperative relationship with Greece, which could serve as a valuable ally in the face of growing uncertainties in the region.

The deal, while seemingly straightforward in terms of territorial exchange, was deeply entrenched in the undercurrents of regional politics, each party acutely conscious of the ripple effects it would send through the Balkans and beyond. Its outcome was set to not only re-draw maps but also redefine alliances and potential conflicts in this volatile part of the world.

Part II - The Eastern Question​

According to Senator Robert Cecil, British interest in the Balkans was threefold. Firstly, a friendly regime in the region ensured that trading routes were unaffected. Secondly, the Kingdom provided a buffer between its longtime ally, Greece, and the Ottomans. Finally, and related to the second point, the Balkan Kingdom allowed British interests to be less reliant on the Ottomans.

The European Accord Powers, witnessing the Ottoman Empire's 'Sick Man of Europe' status, positioned themselves as opportunistic stakeholders, ready to seize control of strategic territories. This perspective wasn't shared by the Balkans, which, having a complex history of conflict and coexistence with the Ottomans, viewed the Empire's dissolution as a delicate matter, potentially igniting regional instability.

From their alliance's inception, Britain and Germany had eyed the crumbling Ottoman territories, particularly in Arabia and North Africa, as realms where they could extend their influence. These territories were not only rich in resources but also held significant strategic value due to their geographical locations, serving as gateways between continents and seas. Italy looked longingly across the Mediterranean, believing the Med would be the beginning of an Italian Empire to rival Rome, centring on lands currently held by France, like Tunisia.

Satirical cartoon about the Sassnitz Conference from The Sunday Republic​

Germany's imperial ambitions primarily lay in the African continent, but the allure of the Ottoman domains was too significant to ignore. Understanding the strategic importance of these regions, Germany had clandestinely brokered a treaty with Chamberlain and Fawcett. This agreement, shrouded in utmost secrecy, planned for the partition of Ottoman influence zones in the event of the Empire's collapse—a scenario seen as imminent by the involved parties.

However, as the geopolitical landscape evolved with the Ottoman Empire's continued decline and other unexpected regional developments, the initial agreement no longer suited the strategic interests of the parties involved. Recognizing the need for a more nuanced approach, the Prime Minister, Foreign Secretary, and German Chancellor found themselves back at the negotiating table, recalibrating their objectives to better align with the new realities.

Should the French and Ottoman Empires fall, Germany was to receive a protective status over an as yet undefined area in Mesopotamia, a new Red Sea concession in Jeddah to support its Pacific trade, and the French-held port of Djibouti in the Horn of Africa, completing the Accord Powers domination over the region, save Abyssinia. It would also be allowed territory in the West of Africa. The powers agreed that France could keep the Algerian coast if they could defend it, but otherwise, the emphasis was to be excluded from any arrangement.

The agreement also stipulated, at the behest of Giolotti, that the two powers wouldn’t intervene should Italy establish a colony in Tunisia and Tripolitania. Informally, Italy was also told it could claim parts of French territory surrounding the River Chad and areas currently occupied by Tuaregs in West Africa. Both measures were conditional on the future collapse of French colonial holdings in Africa.

Britain would continue to control Egypt and its territory Sudan, territories around the Suez Canal, including Vilayet of Hejaz, Mutasarrifate of Jerusalem, Beirut Vilayet, Lebanon, Demascus Vilayet, Aleppo Villayet, Adana Vilayet, and Ottoman Yemen. In addition, their existing control over Aden, confirmed in March 1891 by the declaration of a British protectorate, would ensure that while Germany and Italy would hold concessions, Britain would maintain control of the trade routes to India, the Suez, and Egypt. Evelyn Baring, head of the administration in Egypt was said to be heavily involved in these discussions.

Evelyn Baring, Head of the Egyptian Colonial Administration​

The weakening grip of the Ottoman Empire on its outlying territories presented a tantalizing opportunity for the European powers to expand their spheres of influence. However, this 'Scramble for the Ottoman Empire' was not just a matter of territorial acquisition. Each region within the Empire's control had its unique strategic, cultural, and economic importance. The European powers had to navigate a complex web of inter-ethnic rivalries, religious sensitivities, and local power structures. Moreover, the 'Eastern Question,' the debate over the Empire's fate, was a significant concern in the foreign policy of these powers, as any abrupt territorial redistribution risked upsetting the precariously balanced European status quo.

In a series of agreements throughout the latter half of 1892, unbeknownst to its other allies - the Balkan Realm and the United States - the ‘Little Concert’ of Germany, Italy, and Britain formalised these decisions through the secret treaty between the powers immediately after the 1892 General Election. Senator Cecil led these efforts and was keen to ensure the powers would not request the formal abolition of the Sultanate, nor the Caliphate, to ensure stability, only to establish spheres of suzerainty over the region.

While some territories currently held by the Ottomans were sure to be annexed - Egypt and Tripolitania were sure to be spun off from the Ottoman realms proper, as the Balkans had been - Britain and Germany supported maintaining a rump Ottoman State to pay off the state's debts over time, to maintain the powerful consortium of Western financiers, the Ottoman Public Debt Administration (OPDA), and to maintain regional stability in henceforth ungovernable lands occupied by nomadic tribes. This policy was supported by the Germans - who had grown close to Constantinople since the Russo-Turkish War as a counterweight to the Russians and were beginning to explore investments in the area - but this was contested by the Italians, even though they were promised Tripolitania.

Giolotti, recognizing Italy's burgeoning status on the international stage, advocated for a more assertive approach in the Eastern Mediterranean. He envisioned an Italian sphere of influence that extended beyond mere territorial acquisitions in North Africa. However, he proposed a gradual erosion of Ottoman power through economic and political pressure, seeking to enhance Italy's stature and control in key coastal regions and strategic islands. This approach was designed to be more palatable to his allies, intending to avoid the chaos a complete dismemberment of the Ottoman Empire might engender.

Nonetheless, Giolotti did float the idea of a Mediterranean Alliance, primarily between Italy, the Balkan Realm, and Greece, which would ensure mutual cooperation and support in their respective pursuits for influence and territory in the region and allow what he described as a ‘police force’ in former Ottoman lands, protecting strategic assets and occupying lands as Ottoman influence declined. He believed that strategic islands could serve as mutual zones for Britain and Germany, safeguarding their interests and providing naval bases critical for the security of trade routes and regional stability.

Unlike the discussions between the powers in Southeastern Europe, the plans were drawn up and confirmed entirely in secret and remained so until the end of the Turbulence in Arabia. As the 19th century neared its end, the intricate web of alliances, secret treaties, and geopolitical manoeuvrings painted a vivid tableau of a Europe on the precipice of transformation. The Ottoman Empire's declining influence, the ambitions of rising colonial powers, and the intricate dance of diplomacy in the Balkans set the stage for a new century rife with opportunity and uncertainty.

Part III - The Western Question​

In the waning glow of the days at Sassnitz, where the murmurs of diplomacy ebbed and flowed like the tides, the European landscape's complexity was drawn into sharp relief, especially concerning the tumult in France. Amidst the uncertainty shrouding the war's trajectory, the Little Concert, comprising Germany, Britain, and Italy, invited Iberia to the talks to forge a consensus steeped in cautious pragmatism.
Their collective resolve was clear: to ensure the prevention of General Boulanger's potential return to power, an event that they believed could plunge the continent into war, given his aggressive postures and his recent invasion of the FDI. The powers also sought to use the opportunity of France’s instability to foster potential alliances with powers such as Russia and Austria and bring them away from France’s orbit.

The terms, stern yet deemed essential, focused on this objective. France's re-admittance to the Concert of Nations was to hinge on its emergence as a pacified entity, a condition only to be satisfied if France itself renounced any intent of aggressive expansion, particularly under Boulanger's influence. The allies, in their pursuit of continental stability, mandated restrictions on French military presence in colonial dominions, sought reparations for Iberia — whose leaders harbored deep concerns about Boulanger's ambitions due to past skirmishes and his known expansionist desires — and required recognition of established borders, with Caprivi insisting on this including the recognition of Alsace & Lorraine within the German Empire.

As the terms of France’s reintegration were fervently debated, one of the British delegates, Senator William Wentworth-Fitzwilliam, interjected with a note of caution. 'Gentlemen,' he began, his voice carrying through the hushed room, 'we find ourselves in the unenviable position of dictating terms to a proud nation. Yet, let us not be blinded by the immediacy of our concerns over General Boulanger. A France embittered by humiliation is a France ripe for unrest. Should we not seek to integrate rather than alienate, to ensure a lasting peace rather than plant the seeds of a new conflict?' His words, met with a momentary silence, echoed the unspoken fears of many in the room.

Yet, whispers of discord threaded through the alliance's fabric. The German high command's ambitions, harboring visions of uninvited intervention to preemptively dismantle Boulanger's base of support and staunch the spread of disruptive ideologies, found echoes in Rome. However, Caprivi, understanding the precarious balance, managed to quell these rumblings, emphasizing the need for a united front to effectively neutralize the Boulanger threat without provoking widespread conflict.

Senator William Wentworth-Fitzwilliam​

Throughout the negotiations, the delegates were acutely aware of the nationalist fervor simmering back home. The British delegation, wary of expanding Russian influence, faced pressure from London to secure British interests in Asia, while the Germans, under Caprivi, grappled with burgeoning nationalist sentiments that demanded a stronger stance on territorial claims. These internal dynamics played out subtly in the negotiation room, with each decision a carefully struck balance between international accord and domestic expectation.

The allies, in their cautious approach, also recognized the importance of bolstering their strategic positions. They drew lessons from recent diplomatic successes in the Balkan regions, considering how a stable Balkan Realm, free from the influence of Boulanger's potential allies, could further insulate the continent from the tremors of war.

Negotiations tread a delicate line, particularly with Britain staunch in its defense against potential Russian encroachment in Central Asia, a matter complicated by the looming shadow of Boulanger's rapport with the Russian court. This reticence momentarily bridled discussions concerning the alliance's expansion.

However, subsequent agreements, including a neutrality pact between Germany and Austria the following and the ongoing acknowledgment of the Balkan Realm's autonomy in foreign policy, signaled a shift. These developments, met with consternation in some quarters, were strategic chess moves in the grand game of keeping Boulanger and his potential coalitions at bay. While the Little Concert’s network formalised, it would remain a fluid arrangement.

It was agreed that St Petersburg and Vienna would be invited to partake in a repeat conference the following year. Discussing a venue, Chamberlain was said to have remarked to Caprivi, “Sassnitz has been a wonderful abode for the duration of your stay; however, I should like to challenge the powers of the world to find a more contented place than Brighton, an English rose.” Thus, the Brighton Conference of 1893 was arranged.

In the immediacy, the powers agreed to a committee to monitor and coordinate responses to the situation in France. Based in London, each of the immediate nations surrounding France - Britain, Belgium, Germany, Italy, and Iberia - sent diplomats to a central mission. Further offices for this mission were established in Belgium, Italy, and Iberia along their borders with France under the auspices of the Assistance and Relief Organisation for France (AROF). The AROF was ostensibly an aid organisation, but Britain and Germany hoped that a diplomatic presence along the border could act as a launch pad for an intervention if required. This fact was unknown to Italy, Iberia, and Belgium.

In the quietude of Sassnitz's gardens, away from the fervor of negotiation tables, key figures — Chamberlain, Cecil, and Stambolov — pondered their roles in this historical juncture. They grappled with the moral quandaries their decisions engendered, particularly the ethics of intervening in another nation's internal affairs, even with the specter of Boulanger's warmongering haunting their deliberations.

On the final day before the talks were brought to a close. Chamberlain, Cecil, Zorrilla, and Stambolov convened away from prying eyes in the tranquillity of a secluded garden. The air was thick with the scent of roses, a stark contrast to the day's tensions. Chamberlain, initiating the conversation, was said to have said, "Gentlemen, we stand at the crossroads of history. Our actions will either stave off the drumbeats of war or, God forbid, hasten their cadence. Are we the arbiters of peace or the unwitting progenitors of further strife?"

Stefan Stambolov, Prime Minister of the Balkan Realm​

Cecil, reflecting on Chamberlain’s query, responded, "Our duty, first and foremost, is to our countries and the preservation of our people’s security and stability between the powers. It's a burdensome task, navigating these troubled waters where a single misstep could spell disaster. Yet, we must ponder, at what cost does this preservation come?"

Stambolov added, "A Europe teetering on the brink forces us into this grand game of diplomacy. But let us not be blind to the precarious edifice we construct. It stands, a bulwark against chaos, yet vulnerable to the merest breath of discontent."

The men fell silent, contemplative, as the first stars appeared, each lost in the gravity of their decisions, the fragility of peace a shared burden on their shoulders.

On the final day of the conference, the atmosphere was palpably different. The tensions and rapid developments of the previous days had given way to a cautious optimism. The delegates understood that they had navigated a delicate geopolitical landscape and, despite the complexity and potential for conflict, had managed to secure agreements that would shape the future of Europe and its colonial interests.

The conference room, filled with an array of diplomats and statesmen, buzzed with discussions, last-minute clarifications, and the scratching of pens on paper as final documents were being signed. The agreements reached would not only redefine territorial boundaries but also set new political courses for the involved nations.

As the conference drew to a close, there was a general sense of accomplishment. The Balkan Realm, with its newfound recognition as an independent power, had solidified its position on the European stage. The arrangements regarding the Ottoman Empire delineated new spheres of influence, marking the end of an era and the beginning of new colonial ambitions. The decisions on France offered a pathway to stability, albeit at a high cost to the French nation. And, underlying it all, the intricate network of alliances and treaties had been both tested and strengthened.

However, amidst the handshakes and congenial farewells, there was an unspoken understanding that the agreements were as fragile as they were historic. The balance of power had been maintained, but it was a delicate balance, contingent on the mutual respect of physical and diplomatic boundaries and the restraint of imperial ambitions.

The outcomes of the conference would soon be communicated to the broader international community, setting the stage for reactions that could range from celebration to indignation. The delegates recognized that the true impact of their decisions would only unfold with time and would depend greatly on the adherence to and respect for the agreements reached during those intense days in Sassnitz.

 

[President Conor]

V, XXXIX: "The Humble Home of a Soldier"

While France stumbled into a conflict between two competing visions for the country, Boulanger, the leader of one vision of France, was held up outside of the country. His exile fostered his ideology, emerging from the philosophical stew from intellectuals like Sorel, Maurras and the emerging presence of Keufer. Boulanger’s return became the clarion call for a collective French identity that transcended class distinctions and sought to return power to the common French citizen.

Boulanger was in exile, but in Elba - he was actually held on Italian soil. The Italian Government was hostile to him, so it allowed the Kingdom of France to hold him on the island outside of France in exchange for payment for his upkeep and the garrison required to keep him. Competent as ever, the Royalist Government in Paris didn’t pay the jailers, so his exile was enforced - the Italians did not want a dangerous popular leader returning to France on their watch - but it was a comfortable arrest. He was held at Forte Stella and told the garrison that he was delighted to return to “the humble home of a soldier.”

Elba, the site of Boulanger's exile​

His captivity was far from oppressive. He had rooms, a balcony, and even access to fine dining, paid for by Actionists in France and leading members of the emerging Fasci movement. He spent much of his time reading; George, Sorel, and Marx were on his early list, and his entourage was impressed with his knowledge of it by the time he was a few weeks into his stay. The Généralissme read histories of Napoleon, Bolivar, and a history of Islam and had all the most prominent journals delivered to him. He witnessed, as all over France, that Action was the byword for all things new, with new philosophical journals being shared freely, creating a dominant strain of ideology among the anti-Royalists. In rebel-controlled cities, “Action” and “Speed” were the desired outcomes of government, and many enthusiastic supporters from all classes hurried to reorganize the country.

The budding Actionist movement included CGT Chief Keufer’s organisational and scientific Action Gazette, arguing the structuring of society by trade and sector rather than nationality, ensuring representation for all workers and soldiers of France, controlling its economy and power. Another popular journal, Sorel’s Notices from Assézat, was printed in his offices in a 16th-century house in Toulouse abandoned by its aristocratic owners. From the opulent surroundings, Sorel further espoused his Marxist ideals and further hypothesise the traditional strains of French socialism with the unique situation and opportunity of Boulanger. Maurras’s original Action Française newspaper continued to further the French nationalist line.

On a breezy evening, Boulanger stood on the balcony of Forte Stella, overlooking the sea. One of the Italian guards, Giovanni Esposito, approached him. Understanding the gravity of this interaction, the Guard wrote to his wife back home:

“This evening, I had one of my usual patrols around Forte Stella, and I found myself drawn to General Boulanger's balcony. There's something about him - an aura, perhaps - that is captivating. Though our conversation was brief, it was illuminating. He spoke of his homeland with a passion that's hard to describe.

What struck me the most was his vision for a united France, one where no one would be defined by birth or class. I've always been a simple soldier, never thought much about politics, but in his words, I sensed a genuine belief in a better world. I couldn't help but wonder: what if he truly is the key to change? How different would our world look under his leadership? But for now, he's here, under our watch, a bird in a golden cage.”

All these journals, papers, and books furthered his knowledge, and after a few weeks of exile, he began to write extensively on the situation in France. He began to sympathise with the Keufer-Sorel analysis of the economy and thought himself a solution: a man steeped in the tricolour and capable of crushing military victory but able to hand power over to the people as if he was Cincinnatus. In the corners of cafés and in hushed discussions among the rebels, whispers grew. 'What if Boulanger were back in France?' some pondered. 'Imagine the tide turning with the Généralissime leading from the front!' The mere idea brought a spark to many an eye, even though it seemed an impossible dream.

Auguste Keufer, Actionist Leader​

In Elba, Boulanger insisted he will return to his prison guards, including Esposito, with whom he grew close over his internment - he was born to return. He cultivated his following with many letters printed in newspapers around the world and reprinted in France and interviews.

The core of Boulanger's emerging belief was vague nationalism, with policies aimed at nationalization of industries, distribution of lands to the peasantry, and an erasure of the division between Frenchmen. Boulanger surmised his beliefs when he wrote in “An Open Letter to the French People,” saying, “There is only one class of Frenchman.”

By September 1892, the tides of revolution were visible across the French landscape. Insurrectionary Communes began to gain traction, particularly in the South, West, and North of France. Major cities like Lyon, Marseille, Toulouse, and Lille witnessed the birth of ad-hoc 'Communal Committees' directed and organised by the Actionists and Federations of Trade Unions controlled by the pro-Boulanger workers who governed affairs. The seeds of revolt germinated through the fabric of society as rebellion resonated with the beleaguered masses, tired of ineffective and nonresponsive governance.

In Paris, the Royalist Government recruited new police heavily (drawing upon demobilised troops from the Franco-Spanish War) and began to pursue the mutineers more vigourously. The cohort of Police recruited between August and October 1892 hailed from the Western Front of the War in Portugal. These soldiers remained loyal throughout the mutiny and were only decommissioned when the French were pushed out of the peninsular. They were vehemently anti-mutiny, believing that the loss of the Northern Front was the reason the war was lost. In ordering them to desert their posts, Boulanger was a traitor in most eyes.

These recruits instigated a more aggressive approach to the rebels than even the French Government: reports of Police executing rebel mutineers and keeping a body part (usually a tooth or a scalp) were common. The Police were also at the forefront of the fighting, and were able to hold defensive positions alongside the Army with great success.

Progress through the Royalist defenses, therefore, was slow. An enthusiastic force, the mutineers were tired and ran out of momentum by the final days of September. Rebels, National Guard, and armed workers lacked the weaponry and organisation of the mutineers to engage the Police and Gendarmerie effectively. An attempt to take Cahors and Mende on the Southern Front and Béthune in the North was frustrated on September 26th, 1892. Both offensive movements relied on the National Guard and volunteers, both of whom were insufficient to overturn well-defended Royalist positions. A Fédéré involved in the attack on Cahors wrote in his diary after the battle:

“The cobblestones of Cahors are wet with rain, and perhaps the tears of rebels who have lost much. Today was a day of hardship. We made an attempt to push against the Royalist defenses on the opposite bank of the Lot River. Our spirits were high, and our cause felt just, but reality was cruel. We lacked the weapons, the organization, and all the basic necessities of warfare. How wasteful. Many good men and women fell.

I think of young Émile, a baker's son from Vauban, who joined the cause believing in a better future. He lay there, lifeless, the smell of freshly baked bread still clinging to him. It's moments like these that test our resolve. I sometimes find myself doubting, questioning if our sacrifices will ever bear fruit. But then I think of Boulanger, our beacon of hope and the dream of a united France. The path is fraught with danger, but our destination is clear.”

Communication between the Quasi-independent Insurrectionary Communes remained an issue also. An attempt to bring together the leadership of the top National Guard units on October 8th was frustrated when Police in Privas apprehended many of the delegates travelling from the Fédéré enclave around Lyon to Toulouse.

The fervent and passionate National Guard delegation attempted to convert police and the public alike as they moved, but Royalist sympathisers alerted the Police, and they were arrested and executed, decapitating the senior leadership of the National Guard in a key Fédéré outpost. Thanks to a campaign sealing off rebel-held territory, blocking roads, demolishing bridges, and cutting telegraph lines, the North and Western enclaves were cut off and left to fend for themselves.

Sketch of the aftermath of a street battle between Royalists and Actionists in Cahors​

This put the “Southern Command,” led by the triumvirate of leaders in the Southern territory; Keufer, Maurras, and Pyrenees native, instructor at École Supérieure de Guerre in Paris, and one of the few leading military men to defect to the Actionists, Colonel Ferdinand Foch, to the forefront of leadership of rebellion. Foch was reluctant to commit treason but was partial to listening to his men, who convinced him to join the rebellion, and with a company of his own recruits, he took off to fight in Lyon when the Monarchy was restored. His mantra of Pas de protocole and his rebellious streak made the 41-year-old malleable to the ideas of the revolution.

These three men chaired the joint meeting of the National Guard, the Committee of Soldiers, and the Committee of the CGT in Toulouse on October 10th. Organisations from the empire, including French Algerians and Tunisians, sent delegates to the meeting. Amid the discussions in the dimly lit room in Toulouse, the noise of the bustling streets outside masked the footsteps of an urgent messenger. Suddenly, the doors burst open, and a young boy, panting and covered in grime, staggered in. Everyone turned their gaze to him, their discussions interrupted.

"News from Paris!" he cried, holding up a crumpled piece of paper. The room fell silent as Keufer took the message, his eyes scanning its content. He paled, his eyes betraying a mix of alarm and resolve. "The Royalists are preparing a massive assault on the rebel cities. They've garnered support from the British and Germans and are amassing an army the likes of which we've never seen."

The room erupted in a cacophony of disbelief and concern. Over the noise, Jean Allemane stood up, slamming his fist on the table to draw attention. "All the more reason we need the Généralissime!" he declared. "If Boulanger leads us, even a formidable force will think twice before confronting us."

The Algerian and Tunisian delegates then set out a plan of their own to free the leader. "Our plan to free Boulanger is not just a glimmer of hope," one said, his voice steady and determined. "Now, it's a necessity." The room was thick with tension. Outside, the wind howled as if nature itself sensed the storm that was coming. The leaders exchanged decisive nods. The next move was clear: they had to rescue Boulanger, not just for the revolution, but for the very survival of their cause.

 

[President Conor]

V, XL: All to the French! ​

The annals of history turned a significant leaf when on the clandestine night of October 12th, 1892, under the veil of darkness, a band of fervent Algerian French Arabs, self-styled the “Insurrectionary Communal Militia of Algiers,” dared the impossible.

The mission was perilous, the Royalist dragnet was tightening yet, under the shroud of secrecy, the group rescued Boulanger from the jaws of despair. In a daring mission, the group collected a wax print of the key, swiped from a priest in the jail he was interned in, buried outside the prison by sympathetic local Actionists. Boulanger didn’t run, but walked through the front door of the prison. The group even had time to telegram the leadership in Toulouse with a simple message “Augustus is free.”

As whispers of Boulanger's escape coursed through the veins of France, the nation's pulse quickened. Finally, the Toulon Committee announced to euphoria across the South that the vessel Boulanger boarded had contacted the commune to “prepare the city for the return of the Généralissime to France.” The saga of his escape was recounted in hushed tones, and then in bold declarations across the nation, spurring imaginations, igniting the spirit of resistance.

The mood was summed up in a newspaper article speculating on the escape, saying, "The tales of Généralissime's escape are the bards' songs of our time. His name resounds through the factories and fields, a beacon of courage in the looming darkness. We see in Boulanger not merely a man, but a symbol of our indomitable spirit. His narrative is now etched in the annals of our struggle, a tale of defiance against tyranny, a promise of a dawn awaiting beyond the night's tyranny. His sacrifice and the sacrifice of the Frenchmen from Algeria motivates us to keep going, keep pushing for the victory over the politicians and the so-called King."

During his rescue, the Généralissime was extremely grateful to his rescuers, further developed, and deepened his understanding of the symbiotic bond between the metropole and the colonial territories. As he set foot on friendly soil, welcomed by both continental and colonial compatriots, the vision of a Francophone realm united by commonality and unity of belief crystallized before him.

The collective endeavour that fuelled his liberation became emblematic of the potential synergy that could flourish under a shared flag and common cause. Through numerous dialogues with his diverse cadre of rescuers and supporters, who represented a microcosm of the broader Francophone spectrum, Boulanger’s convictions matured. The mosaic of cultures, backgrounds, and shared fervour for a unified Francophone identity resonated deeply with Boulanger, he wrote in a letter upon his return.

The City of Toulon, 1890, site of the return of Boulanger​

The revelation that the strength of the French ethos was not confined to the borders of the mainland, but vibrantly echoed across continents in the hearts of all French speakers, birthed a renewed vigour within him. His ideologies evolved to embody a more inclusive, global vision of French identity, transcending geographical and racial divides. This epiphany further galvanized Boulanger's resolve to champion a cause that aspired to unify all corners of the Francophone realm, nurturing a cohesive bond between the colonialists and the metropoles, under the virtuous and indomitable banner of La France. With this fresh in his mind, he spoke to a crowd as far as the eye could see in Toulon after his arrival on October 15th.

"My esteemed countrymen and compatriots of the greater Francophone realm,

Today, as I stand upon this embattled soil, I am reminded not just of the passion of 1789 and 1792 but the scars of betrayal and the sting of our losses. Our forefathers fought and bled, challenging both tyrants at home and enemies abroad, expelling the poisonous influences that dared threaten our sacred land. The revolutions that lit the fires of liberty in 1889 and 1892 also kindled the embers of revenge against those who would betray us.

The indomitable French spirit, birthed from our hallowed revolutions, wasn’t content remaining within our borders. It surged forth on a noble mission, planting seeds of enlightened society across continents. From the Saharan sands of Africa to the dense forests of Indochina, the tricolour flag was more than cloth and dye – it was a battle cry, a testament to French valour, justice, and progress.

To my brethren in arms and heart across the globe, never forget this: Our ancestors did not brave oceans and deserts for mere plots of land. They sought to spread our birth right, to forge a Francophone empire united in purpose and resolve. Wherever the French tongue is spoken, wherever liberty and justice reign, wherever the elite and oppressors are cast down, there is the spirit of France, alive and fierce.

The machinations of the old regime, the Royalists, and their treacherous ilk sought to shatter our unity. They are the very leeches that have sucked our land dry and conspired with outsiders to keep France on her knees. There are no distinctions among us - no Royalists, no Communards, no Bonapartists - only true Frenchmen and those who betray her. We are bound by a shared destiny, unyielding against those who seek to divide and conquer us.

The world now witnesses the Royalist menace, who in their blind ambition, trample upon our legacy. In cahoots with the Germans and the perfidious British, who once stole from us our rightful dominion in Suez and now conspire to isolate us, they aim to throttle our grand civilization. But we will choke their ambitions with our resolve. Every Francophone, from metropolitan streets to distant colonies, must rise! Repel the Royalist oppressors, denounce their foreign allies, and roar your allegiance to the unified might of the Francophone world.

Here, in the beating heart of France, the trinity of workers, farmers, and soldiers stands ready, ever-vigilant against betrayal. Under my guidance, with the force of our reinvigorated Popular Army, we will strike down those who dare tarnish the French legacy. Our mission spans not only our homeland but every land where French culture and spirit thrive. Every village, every city echoing with our language and culture is hallowed ground.

France isn't mere borders and maps; she is a burning ideal, a living testament to unity, sacrifice, and revenge against her foes. From the iconic landmarks of Paris to the farthest colonial outposts, we rally under our sacred tricolour. We will raise an army, a force of vengeance and justice, to wrest control from traitors and foreign meddlers.

I dream of a France that is once again the jewel of the world, where industries prosper, and our lands flourish under our vigilant watch. Every Frenchman, at home or abroad, will bask in the glory of a nation reborn, fierce and uncompromising. In our shared vision runs a single, potent truth – we are one, indivisible and unyielding against all who threaten us.

To achieve this, we must unite, organise, and roster a Popular Army of the people of France and all those who yearn for its ideals beyond. This army will fight the Royalists and drive them to the sea. In the name of our storied past and a future yet to be written, I summon every Francophone to arms. Together, we'll defend our way of life, ensure our rightful place in the world, and vow that every inch of French land, every drop of its waters, shall be reclaimed and defended.

For the glory of France and the indomitable spirit of the Francophone realm - All to the French!"

The eloquent proclamation by Généralissime Boulanger sent ripples through the hearts and minds of the Fédérés and further afield, into the territories of the Francophone world. This potent rhetoric, laden with historical references and unifying sentiments, rekindled the revolutionary flames reminiscent of the bygone eras of 1789 and 1792.

The stirring oratory struck a chord with the Fédérés, evoking a palpable sense of nationalism intertwined with the unyielding ethos of Francophonie that transcended beyond mere geographical bounds. His audacious call for the restoration of a society led by the workers, farmers, and soldiers mirrored the core ideology of nationalistic syndicalism, resonating profoundly with the Fédérés who envisioned a realm free of royalist and aristocratic yoke.

Across the expansive colonies, the speech was received with a blend of hope, fervour, and discernment. The colonies, each with its unique socio-political landscape, interpreted Boulanger's address through lenses tinted with their distinct experiences under the French aegis. In French Africa, where the yoke of colonialism had been perceived with varying degrees of acceptance and resentment, Boulanger's words spurred discussions, debates, and in some quarters, ignited the spark for a shared Francophone identity irrespective of racial or territorial delineations.

In other areas, like French Indochina, the Monarchy’s client patronage network held firm and the Crown would retain sway. The notion of a united Francophone society found a foothold among many who yearned for an equitable representation and shared prosperity under the tricolour. For many, the speech called to those who felt they were progressing and advancing to become French - an upper class of sorts in native populations, known as the Évolué.

The neighbouring European realms with French-speaking populace, such as Belgium and Switzerland, found themselves in a difficult position. Boulanger’s rhetoric, while evoking a sense of shared cultural heritage, also incited debates on the extent of allegiance to the broader Francophone narrative - something that would increase in the near future. The dichotomy of preserving national sovereignty while aligning with the grander Francophone ethos presented a complex tableau of diplomatic and ideological deliberation. Angst across France’s neighbours grew as they knew, deep down, that Boulanger would reunite France.

 

[President Conor]

V, XLI: The Panic of 1892​

The growing descent of France into Civil War, while not a surprise given the instability that plagued the country leading up to it, still shocked many worldwide. However, its effects, distant upon the eruption of hostilities, came closer to home in the following weeks. Financial markets had remained stable initially, but after the return of Boulanger to France and its expected effect on the outcome of the conflict, countries faced a world with a significantly handicapped France, the world’s fifth largest economy as the Winter of 1892 set in.

Finance and Trade witnessed a financial cataclysm on November 18th, 1892, that would be etched in the annals of economic history as a stark reminder of the delicate interdependence of global trade and finance. At the heart of this maelstrom was the return of Boulanger to mainland France and the subsequent worsening of the French conflict into a civil war that tore through the tapestry of European commerce and sent shockwaves across the Atlantic, precipitating the so-called "Panic of 1892."

Part 1 - Dislocated Trade, Dislocated Opportunities​

As France descended into chaos, with the strife between the Royalists and the Boulanger-led Actionists intensifying, trade routes that crisscrossed the continent began to wither. The Actionist capture of key ports like Marseille and Bordeaux led to acute shortages, sending staples soaring prices. The famed wine harvests of Bordeaux, a commodity once poured liberally at the tables of the affluent from London to St. Petersburg, became a scarce luxury, with prices doubling, then tripling by the end of October.

The repercussions were not confined to France. The rebellion disrupted the colonial resource flow, especially from Algeria, where the insurrection against Governor-General Jules-Martin Cambon's administration culminated in his tragic demise and the expulsion of French authority. This cessation of resources from North Africa sent ripples through the economies of nations dependent on these raw materials, causing manufacturing slowdowns in Germany and textile shortages in Britain as the Autumn hit.

Dakar Port, 1892​

Maritime trade routes underwent an involuntary renaissance as British and German navies, seeking to protect the French Royalists informally, patrolled the waters with a vigilant eye, compelling shipping to circumnavigate conflict zones. Chamberlain and the War Secretary, Senator Arthur Balfour, announced to the commons on October 3rd that the Navy would patrol shipping routes and protect ships from attack as they travelled the French coast and in the vicinity of French colonies. This serendipitously benefited the United States and the British dominions, which experienced an uptick in maritime traffic, offering a brief economic boon amidst the burgeoning crisis.

Careful international traders avoided major French-held colonial ports for fear of the supposed anarchy that awaited them. The Royalist Government’s Colonial Minister, Émile Chautemps, urged the other Great Powers to both lift the blockade on French shipping from these ports and encourage their governments to inform traders and merchants that French colonial ports remained both safe and open on October 6th, as ports like Dakar, one of the biggest refuelling stations in the world, were turned to ghost towns.

Part 2 - The Crédit Lyonnais Affair​

The most pernicious effect of the French conflict was the pervasive climate of uncertainty that settled over European markets. Skittish at the prospect of their capital being ensnared in the continental tumult, investors began withdrawing from European ventures. The investor panic was spurred by Crédit Lyonnais, a major European financial institution, when it was forced to declare on November 15th that its assets had been seized by the rebel administration of the city, leading to a loss of around 10,000,000 francs. This collapsed the value of the Franc, destabilised currency markets, and led to massive inflation in the French mainland.

The developments sent shockwaves through the international financial community beyond the immediate borders of France. This economic upheaval rippled outward, affecting the stock exchanges of London, Frankfurt, and New York as investors scrambled to assess the potential impact on their own economies and financial systems. European companies, already cautious in the face of France's internal strife, tightened their purse strings further, and a credit squeeze ensued, putting additional pressure on trade and industry. This economic contagion threatened to spiral into a broader financial crisis, with the possibility of a banking collapse that could engulf Europe and even across the Atlantic.

In response to the crisis at Crédit Lyonnais, foreign branches in Alexandria, Cairo, New York, Smyrna, and Brussels found themselves in precarious positions. Local financial authorities placed these branches under heightened scrutiny, ensuring that operations complied with local laws and safeguarded the interests of domestic investors.

A series of negotiations ensued, led by diplomats and international finance experts, to determine the fate of these branches and the accounts therein. The talks aimed to balance the need to protect investors and the complex legalities of international finance. The outcomes of these discussions varied by location, with some branches agreeing to enhanced oversight by local financial authorities. In contrast, others negotiated joint administration agreements, sharing oversight responsibilities between bank officials and international representatives.

Crédit Lyonnais Headquarters, Lyon​

Breaking with recent foreign policy, Britain and Germany led negotiations with the Royalist Government to prevent a greater financial contagion. Restrictions on French assets in Egypt and other British colonies were relaxed; Chancellor Randolph Churchill and President-Regent Stanley spearheaded a negotiation with the Royalist Government to secure the Bank of France using loans from an international consortium of British, American, and German banks. While the deal was humiliating and debilitating for the French Government, it was necessary for survival. Britain and Germany, in particular, used the loans to increase influence over the Royalist Government.

The response to the plight of Crédit Lyonnais' foreign branches was marked by a concerted effort to avert a legal quagmire. Recapitalized, the Bank of France took a leading role in brokering arrangements, allowing for shared oversight and ensuring that the bank's operations could continue under a cooperative framework. These delicate negotiations resulted in a patchwork of agreements, reflecting the countries' diverse legal systems and economic interests. The resulting arrangements were complex and often provisional, but they staved off the immediate threat of a more extensive financial collapse.

In the wider melee, the Royalist Government closed the Paris Bourse for a week after November 18th, leading over the next year to a rush to delist and head to Britain and the United States for major European companies. Equally, Frankfurt positioned itself to take over a percentage of stock trading. As a financial and economic hub for Western Europe, Paris was taken by a terminal illness in November 1892 that would not recover for some time. Fears about France’s status post-war took a significant turn for the worse after

This investor trepidation hastened the Panic of 1892. European capital, which had flowed generously into American railroads and industries, retreated abruptly. The American economy, already reeling from speculative excesses and overinvestment, was ill-prepared for the European withdrawal. The Philadelphia and Reading Railroad, a titan of American industry, became an early casualty, declaring bankruptcy and igniting the panic that engulfed the nation's banking system. The Harrison administration, focusing on the transition to the incoming Cleveland administration, was blindsided by the development and would be blamed for the dithering that led to the Railroad’s collapse.

As commodity prices fluctuated wildly due to the conflict, global trade balances shifted. France's inability to export its luxury goods and agricultural produce created a vacuum quickly filled by competitors. A worldwide market for Spanish wine, British-produced silk, and Italian agricultural products grew. Nevertheless, the sudden shifts led to economic instability transcending borders, exacerbating the financial crisis.

The search for safe-haven assets saw a global rush for gold, exacerbating the strains on U.S. gold reserves. The United States, steadfast in its commitment to the gold standard, watched its reserves dwindle as investors sought the security of the precious metal, fearing currency devaluations amidst the growing crisis. The gold crisis emboldened the Free Silver movement, whose two wings, the moderate Anti-Administration Democrats and Republicans and the Farmer-Labor Party, allied with one another to call for immediate action. This crisis precipitated the decision by lawmakers to bring forward the Portrait Gallery straw poll of the contingent election to alleviate fears of an unstable transfer of power following the Presidential Election a few weeks earlier.

Part 3 - A House Divided​

The shockwaves of Credit Lyonnais' collapse rippled across the Atlantic, igniting fierce debates within the United States' political arena. The Farmer-Labor Party seized upon the crisis, viewing it as vindication of their long-held stance on monetary reform. At rallies and in the halls of Congress, FLP leaders called for immediate implementation of free silver policies, arguing that a more inflationary stance would shield American workers from the international financial storm. They advocated for the nationalization of railways and telegraphs, pointing to the successful state-run models established by S. B. Erwin in Kentucky as a model for national policy. Some called on the electors to overturn their expected election of Grover Cleveland as President and instead elect a unity candidate committed to Free Silver.

In the Republican camp, the Credit Lyonnais debacle exacerbated the existing schism between the Progressive and Conservative wings. Progressive Republicans, while not fully aligning with the FLP, called for robust regulatory frameworks to protect American industries. Conservative Republicans, led by outgoing President Harrison, held firm on the gold standard, advocating for austerity measures as a bulwark against the encroaching economic turmoil. The Conservatives urged lawmakers to stay the course and, through gritted teeth, confirm Cleveland’s appointment as President.

Within the Democratic Party, the Silver Democrats found new ammunition against the Gold Democrats' platform. They pushed for bimetallism with renewed vigour after the Panic of 1892, aligning with the FLP's criticism of the gold standard. Despite his victory in the contingent election, Grover Cleveland found his position on free trade and smaller government increasingly at odds with the shifting mood of his country as a whole.

The expected ascension of Grover Cleveland to the presidency in a contingent election marked a pivotal moment in American politics. Though seething at Gresham's defection, the Farmer-Labor Party looked forward to leveraging the crisis to further their populist agenda in the upcoming congressional session. Meanwhile, the debate over monetary policy intensified, with anti-French sentiment stoked by those who viewed the French Civil War as the catalyst for America's financial woes. Xenophobic rhetoric grew in intensity, particularly in regions with significant French immigrant populations, as politicians capitalized on nationalistic fervour to rally support for protectionist and isolationist policies. All over the country, there was a wave of anti-French rage directed at businesses and individuals linked to France.

As the United States grappled with the economic fallout, the Panic of 1892 and the French Civil War catalysed a profound realignment in American politics. The Farmer-Labor Party's growth in both houses of Congress heralded a new era of populist influence. At the same time, the internal divisions within the Republican and Democratic parties suggested a redefinition of their core philosophies. The United States, like many nations observing the tumult in France, turned introspective, questioning the tenets of its economic and political identity on an increasingly interconnected yet unstable global stage.

Part 4 - The French against the World​

Another regrettable facet of the financial turmoil was a collective belief that Boulanger’s return was a plot of all French speakers, not just the Actionists in France, that led to a virulent anti-French sentiment sweeping through nations, particularly those with significant French minorities. In Switzerland, home to a peaceful French-speaking populace, tensions mounted as refugees from the conflict sought asylum, straining local resources and stoking fears of the conflict spilling over the border. Belgium, with its deep cultural and linguistic ties to France, saw a rise in xenophobia as French nationals were increasingly viewed with suspicion, accused of harbouring sympathies for the Actionist cause. Flemish northerners, ever weary of French influence on their daily lives, began to question the nature of the Belgian state itself.

The influx of French capital in the preceding years now appeared a poisoned chalice as calls for financial purges and the repatriation of German wealth grew louder in Germany. German financiers, once keen on French investments, now faced public scorn, and the French communities in cities like Berlin and Frankfurt found themselves marginalized, their contributions to the local economies forgotten amidst the rising tide of nationalism.

The broader military and economic concerns led to more significant calls from the Prussian elite for Kaiser Wilhelm II to exert control over the Government and use the military-industrial elite to guide policy rather than the Reichstag. This tug-of-war between parliamentary politics and real economic and military power would become a defining feature of German politics in the years to come.

In Milan, Italian Nationalists even attempted to raid a French-majority neighbourhood and expel the populous, but found local Fasci supporting the French-speakers. Two days of rioting ensued as Fasci build barricades around the city.

Milanese Police attempt to break down Barricades during the 1892 anti-French riots in the City. ​

Each of these attacks on the French-speaking populace across Europe tightened the unity of the community across national borders. Calls from French populations outside France to rebel and join the French crusade against European hegemons grew. Wherever there were significant French-speaking populations within Europe, Actionism grew. Actionists seized upon the growth in anti-French sentiment within France, mainly in Belgium and France. In a letter to his paper, Maurras declared, “The global crisis has unveiled the true nature of world diplomacy - it is the French against the World.”

The Panic of 1892, thus, was not merely an economic event but a catalyst for a social and political upheaval that reshaped the contours of international relations. Nations turned inward, protective of their interests, and the vision of a collective European identity, already fragmented, crumbled further. The French conflict, through the intricate interplay of economics, politics, and society, had redrawn the map of France and the lines of global cooperation, trust, and unity.

 

[President Conor]

V, XLII: Paris Falls, The Actionist Triumph

The period between November 1892 and January 1893 was a crucible of intense military planning and societal transformation. The meticulous organization of the Popular Army by Boulanger and his associates was a monumental task aimed at integrating an overwhelmingly civilian force into a cohesive military entity. Much of this was left to a Boulanger ally and the former Chief of Staff of the French Military, Eugène Galland, who defected to aid Boulanger and became the General of the Popular Army’s pivotal and influential Southern Division. Among the key moves General Galland made was to promote Ferdinand Foch to Divisional General, giving the leadership vigour and energetic leadership.

The period between November 1892 and January 1893 was a crucible of intense military planning and societal transformation. The meticulous organization of the Popular Army by Boulanger and his associates was a monumental task aimed at integrating an overwhelmingly civilian force into a cohesive military entity. Much of this was left to a Boulanger ally and the former Chief of Staff of the French Military, Eugène Galland, who defected to aid Boulanger and became the General of the Popular Army’s pivotal and influential Southern Division. Among the key moves General Galland made was to promote Ferdinand Foch to Divisional General, giving the leadership vigour and energetic leadership.

Backed by a ransacked Navy from Toulon, the Fédérés began to arm Actionists in Algeria to overthrow the rule of Jules-Martin Cambon, the Governor-General. Earlier in his career, Boulanger had been expelled from Tunisia on the insistence of Cambon, so the Généralissme took great pleasure in his downfall. Boulanger promised the formation of some form of home rule for Algeria within the reunited France. Algerians rose in support of Boulanger on December 18th, 1892, murdered Cambon, and expelled the French Army from Algiers. At Home, tentative attacks by the emerging Popular Army and successful defences of strongholds meant that the ultimate aim of the Civil War - to liberate Paris and occupy Versailles - became paramount to the Popular Army High Command.

Jules-Martin Cambon, Governor of Algeria​

January 1893 was a tipping point, wherein the consolidation of the Popular Army was at a stage that posed a substantial threat to the Royalist forces. The hinterlands of France were rapidly aligning with the Actionist cause, leaving the Royalists clinging to a precarious hold over Paris and parts of Central and East France. The Royalists began to lose control of the rear and home front, with disturbances pot marking France throughout January, stalled only by bitterly cold temperatures throughout the month, falling to -11.6c at the peak of the cold snap in Paris.

Once the weather improved in February, and seeing the situation as critical, Britain and Germany convened representatives in London to devise a method of protecting and containing the revolution exploding in France. The powers, including Britain, Germany, Iberia, and Italy, reached out to the Kingdom and offered increased weapons deliveries to the port of St Malo. The city had been targeted by guerrilla campaigns by pro-Boulanger forces. To ensure the deliveries were safe, the French Crown allowed the British Navy to dock and the Union Army to patrol the port.

In the East, Germany stepped up its troop numbers in Alsace and Lorraine, fearing an intervention by the Popular Army. It informally agreed with France to deploy its soldiers on the Franco-German border to protect German and French territory from Actionist attacks and to assist the Royal Army several miles inland. Five thousand troops were stationed on the Italian border in preparation for an invasion.

With foreign soldiers on French soil, the pro-Boulanger coalition, hastily organised up to now, looked to build key institutions to legitimise their rule and present themselves as an alternate government. The decision to call in foreign soldiers also ended any hopes of a peaceful compromise that could have restored a reformed status quo: after the decision to call the English in, the Kingdom and all of its supporters had to be destroyed. Foch, stressing the need for a “lightning army” to continue the rapid liberation of Royalist cities, announced a new general offensive on January 23rd.

The Popular Army’s Eastern Division pushed out from their western enclave, captured key towns like Saint-Louis, and overtook the Swiss border crossing on 31st January 1893. The Swiss Government announced that 15,000 troops would be deployed to the French border to ensure security and prevent a spillover. Adding the Swiss presence to the German, Iberian, Italian, and British presence around France’s border meant the country suddenly had the most fortified frontier on the planet.

Simultaneously, more and more Army units defected to the Popular Army. The group had better rations and pay and looked to be on the winning side. The drain of resources from the Royalist Army was palpable: the force lost around 1/3rd of its men between September and January 1893, according to Emile Zola’s The Breaking Point. Further humiliation for the Royalists occurred on February 2nd when forces from the Popular Army’s Northern and Eastern Divisions met at Troyes, creating the first land bridge between two rebel-held areas.

A victory for the combined Popular Army on February 7th in Nancy, overrunning the town as stranded Royalists defected, showed the Germans that intervening further into French territory would be fruitless, the Popular Army was an effective fighting force, and the primary objective for Germany should be to protect Alscace-Lorraine. Fearing a battle between the Imperial Army and Popular Army imminently, on February 8th, the order came to retreat from all lands not currently within the German Empire.

The February 16th capture of St Etienne after three days of fierce fighting confirmed the momentum of the Actionists, as they joined up the three divisions of the Popular Army and created a contiguous land mass under the Généralissme’s control, split the Royalist-held territory in two, and prevented the creation of successful supply lines, disrupting the government critically. The victory at St Etienne, which had passed between Royalist and Rebel control several times over the last few months, was symptomatic of the demoralised Royalist Army viewing the conflict as fruitless. Major Ferdinand Walsin Esterhazy was placed in charge of a new lightning force to ensure the expulsion of all foreign troops from French soil.

Major Ferdinand Walsin Esterhazy​

After St Etienne, Boulanger declared a general amnesty to any non-commanding soldier in the Royalist Army. The command and supply structure was utterly broken, and the victories of Troyes and St. Etienne also disrupted rail transport for Royalist police and soldiers around France, as both were crucial interchanges. Essentially, after St Etienne, the situation was dire for the Kingdom of France. The British, German, and American Governments advised all citizens to leave Paris on the same day as the general amnesty, as each power realised that the Kingdom couldn’t survive. In an extraordinary step, the countries closed their embassies in Paris, and diplomats were hurried out of the rapidly emptying capital.

The capture of a section of the Paris-St Etienne Railway allowed the Popular Army to push up the line, securing cities along it. The capture of Vierzon placed the Actionists just over 200km from Paris, with one major city between them and the liberation of the capital: Orléans. General de Boisdeffre quickly assembled a group of what remained of his effective fighting force, around 5,000 Royalist soldiers, to defend the city and the road to Paris on February 21st.

De Boisdeffre spoke openly about the importance of the upcoming battle, describing it as “the defence of liberty in France from a militaristic band of rebels.” The Kingdom of France’s European allies accepted that the war was probably coming to an end. Despite a stubborn defence led by de Boisdeffre, Orléans fell on February 24th, and de Boisdeffre was killed in the battle, extinguishing the best General available to the Kingdom. General François Claude du Barail was appointed to replace de Boisdeffre, but his impact would be negligible.

In Paris, after the death of de Boisdeffre, morale among the Royalists plummeted. The refugees used the defended corridor from Paris to the North West and into the British-held port of Saint-Malo to escape to Britain. Of a heavily depleted population of just over 95,000 in the city on the day of the fall of Orléans, only 55,000 remained by the beginning of March. The road from Paris to Saint-Malo, a four-day journey, was referred to as “The Trail of Tears” by the Royalist community.

While the Actionists thought that the Royalists would defend the capital with a ferocity unseen in much of the conflict, the leaders of the rebellion, chiefly Généralissme Boulanger, decided the time had come to send the top leadership north to build morale. Boulanger used the opportunity presented to him.

On the 26th of February, Boulanger, in the smouldering streets of Orléans, declared that his army represented the General Will of the French People, Grand Chancellery was an illegal government, and, given the situation and the apparent investiture of the power of the French people in him, he had the right to appoint a temporary Provisional Government comprised of leading Fédérés to assume control. The Généralissme also declared the adoption of the French Republican Calendar (making the date 8 Ventôse, 101) as the state's official calendar.

As the proclamation was held on the day marked ‘Violette’ in the Republican Calendar, the government was colloquially called le Directoire Violette. Auguste Keufer, Fernand Pelloutier, Charles Maurras, Maurice Barrés, René Boylesve, and Frédéric Amouretti were appointed as members of the Government, along with General Galland and General Foch.

This was, significantly, the first time a rival government to the Grand Chancellery had been appointed: the Actionists didn’t believe that they would have the right to declare a government without Boulanger, so they insisted that while the King and Government were illegal, a provisional government wouldn’t have a mandate without Boulanger, and they would have to simply await the return of the Head of State to appoint a new government, and therefore spent most of the early parts of the war with completely decentralised leadership.

With a new government in place, the Actionists and Boulanger assumed power by assuming they were in control. Contact with embassies and colonies was established but not completely reciprocated - many refused to listen to the Fédérés. The rebels only really had a foothold in Algeria, parts of Tunisia, Senegal, French Guinea, Upper Volta, and French Sudan, where sympathetic (and power-hungry) colonialists had quickly seized upon the contents of Boulanger’s October speech and decided to turn local native populations against the colonial officials. Still, control was patchy in French Africa and nonexistent in French Indochina and the Pacific territories. In Senegal, only the ‘Four Communes,’ a group of the four oldest French settlements - Gorée, Dakar, Rufisque, and Saint-Louis - continued to recognise the King’s authority after the fall of Paris in Senegal.

To support and foster support for the rival government in Asia, Actionists sent future Foreign Affairs Director Louis de Geofroy to China to court favour with the Qing Government, which would soon bring benefits. Boulanger also sent plenipotentiaries to Moscow and Vienna to curry favour with France’s erstwhile allies. Lukewarm in their support for the restored Kingdom, seeing it as weak and a lackey of the Accord Powers, Russia recognised the new government. Not wishing to support the renewed abolition of the French monarchy but keen to protect its financial health and, hopefully, restore financial support, Austria followed a few days later.

Louis de Geofroy​

Still, the small matter of recapturing the capital, plus a swath of territory in the North West and East, remained the new government's primary task. Now able to move freely around the country, General Galland rostered a force of around 22,000 from surrounding regiments, completing the troop movements on March 5th. From there, they marched to the Palace of Fontainebleau, southwest of Paris, where they overran a Royalist patrol, killing 150 and opening the road to the capital. The next day, the Popular Army marched to Melun, liberating the town with next to no fighting: those who escaped Fontainebleau warned the Melun Garrison that the Actionists were approaching, so their commander, Henri de Gaulle, negotiated a surrender of his men, most of whom subsequently defected to the Actionist side to join the assault on Paris.

In Versailles, the seat of the French Royalist Government, senior military figures urged King Louis-Phillippe to evacuate. General du Barail declared that “every man and boy must be used in the defence of the capital from the rebels,” but few took his call seriously. The King insisted he must be alongside the soldiers defending Paris, but summing up the chaos engulfing the centre of the Kingdom, his escort and the military company attached to him never arrived. The Popular Army, by 9 p.m., had reached the edge of the city and La Santé Prison, where many surviving Actionists had been interned. They freed all the prisoners, and many joined the growing caravan of men rushing towards the city centre.

General Foch, commanding the first battalion that arrived at the Triangle de Choisy, entered buildings and dispersed literature that said the Popular Army would not take Paris by force, reiterated the call for amnesty to all non-commanding officers in the Royalist Army. Finally, the Grand Chancellery travelled to Versailles at 10 p.m. to evacuate the King to Rouen in Normandy. While he protested fiercely, he was ultimately convinced to pack up and go, not without a significant portion of the estate’s remaining valuables and the King’s personal treasures. The Palace at Versailles was abandoned by roughly 1 a.m. on March 7th.

There was a sense of foreboding everywhere in Paris on March 7th. Few slept, and most awaited some kind of action patiently. After news of the King's flight spread during the night, the sympathetic working-class neighbourhoods gathered to support Boulanger around 4 a.m., as the remaining, beleaguered Royalists battled 20km away against the rapidly advancing Popular Army. It would take until around 7 a.m. for the last Royalist units to be captured. Boulanger was whisked to the Hôtel de Ville at 9 a.m., in front of thousands of soldiers and residents of Paris, and declared the monarchy had been overthrown and the Provisional Government had assumed power. All police, army units, and other government workers were to report for duty as usual, but first, they would need to swear allegiance to Boulanger.

The Généralissme reiterated the desires expressed in his Toulon Address and the call for “learned Frenchman, those wronged by the previous regime, and those who felt afraid: return to a country opening its arms.” The next day, the rostered French Army units gathered in the centre of Paris and declared their allegiance to Boulanger. While the Kingdom would struggle for a few weeks, the glorious return of Boulanger to Paris is the defining image of the Second French Revolution. Royalism was practically defeated there and then.

After the fall of Paris, refugees fled in two directions. Some went to Normandy and Britanny, where the remaining French Army had set up its defensive lines, and the King had declared the seat of power. However, Royalist officers fighting in the north of the country were said to be fleeing with their men across the thin border between the Kingdom of France and the Kingdom of Belgium. Poperinge on the border saw nearly 28,000 refugees, fleeing police - targetted viciously by the National Guard and Fédérés - and deserting soldiers squeezed through a strip of about 60 km controlled by the Royalists from Dunkirk to Tourcoing.

Most travelled by trains, constantly running out of Paris between March 5th and 8th. Others walked or hitched rides or rode carriages. Still, all attempting to escape Actionist France finally encountered a thin, hotly contested 15km wide strip of road and land, complete with the constant gunfire of the Popular Army's Northern Division, the only safety route. Still, many of the refugees successfully spilled out over the border in the days leading to and after the fall of Paris, as the Socialists, Anarchists, and Republicans had in 1889. The humanitarian and diplomatic crisis caused by the actions of just a few days would continue to reverberate as the events completely changed our world's travel direction. Against the odds, the Actionists looked set for victory.

 

[President Conor]

Excerpt from "Years of Decision: American Politics in the 1890's" by R. Hal Williams​

Chapter 9: A House Divided - The Contingent Election of 1892 and Cleveland's Ascension

“The contingent election of 1892, held in January 1893, marked a watershed moment in the annals of American politics. In the wake of the Credit Lyonnais collapse and the ongoing French Civil War, the United States found itself at a crossroads, both economically and politically. The election of Grover Cleveland, while expected, did not pass without intense debate and the crystallization of a profound partisan split.

As Cleveland prepared for his inauguration on March 4, 1893, the political landscape of America was undergoing a seismic shift. The Farmer-Labor Party, galvanized by the financial crisis, found their populist agenda gaining traction. Meanwhile, deep fissures were emerging within both the Republican and Democratic parties.

The term "Federalist" re-emerged in this tumultuous era, finding a new resonance. The moniker was first resurrected by a keen political journalist, Eleanor Randolph, who wrote for the Washington Post. In a column dated January 15, 1893, Randolph described the pro-Cleveland faction as "modern Federalists," evoking the early American political party that had advocated for a strong national government. This new Federalist group, rallying around Cleveland, was driven by a desire for national unity and a firm stance on isolation from the escalating European conflicts.

In stark contrast, opposition to Cleveland's presidency coalesced into what became known as the "Democratic-Republican" faction. The term, harking back to the early political rivalry between the Federalists and the Democratic-Republicans of Jefferson's era, was first used by Theodore S. White in a New York Times editorial. White argued that the opposition represented a blend of ideals from both major parties, unified in their resistance to Cleveland's policies and his approach to the national crisis.

This Democratic-Republican faction was a diverse coalition consisting of members from both traditional parties who opposed Cleveland's stance on monetary reform and isolationism. They criticized his commitment to the gold standard and his reluctance to engage more assertively in international affairs, particularly in light of the upheaval in France and its economic repercussions.

A sense of subdued urgency marked the inauguration of Grover Cleveland on March 4. In his address, Cleveland spoke of unity and resilience in the face of national challenges. However, the growing divide in the political fabric of the nation was palpable. The Federalists, although not yet an official moniker, championed policies aimed at steering the nation through the economic crisis with a focus on internal stability and a cautious approach to foreign entanglements.

As Cleveland took the reins of a divided nation, the Democratic-Republicans began to coalesce into a more formalized opposition. They advocated for more radical economic reforms and a reevaluation of America's role on the global stage. This opposition was not just a rejection of Cleveland's policies but a broader critique of the status quo, signalling a deepening discontent with traditional political alignments. They maintained an equidistance between the Federalists and the Farmer-Labor Party, believing a new course between the two would be needed to solve the country’s mounting issues.

The year 1893 thus began with the United States embarking on a path fraught with internal divisions and an uncertain future. The dual emergence of the Federalists and Democratic-Republicans marked a new era in American politics, one where old allegiances were questioned, and new coalitions were formed in response to unprecedented economic and global challenges. The stage was set for a decade that would redefine the American political landscape.”

 

[President Conor]

V, XLIII: Founding a New Society

Surprisingly, little thought had been given to the ruling of France post-victory; it became clear over the first few days of the ‘liberation’ of Paris in March 1893. Rival divisions, factions, and agencies of the rebel movement all competed to occupy just about every building in Paris over the first few weeks. Having emptied considerably, an almost entirely new city emerged of activists, militias, volunteers, and a wide range of largely self-appointed officials.

Despite the jubilance, a sobering thought descended on those who now ruled France following the collapse of Royal authority in the capital. The ravages of the French Civil War left an indelible mark on the nation. Historians estimate that the conflict claimed the lives of approximately 490,000 souls, a staggering loss that resonated in every corner of French society. Economically, the toll was equally devastating.

The Destruction, by François Sallé (1893)​

The destruction of infrastructure, the interruption of agricultural and industrial production, and the loss of valuable human labour cost the nation dearly, with estimates suggesting a staggering $10 billion in damages. The cities, once bustling centres of commerce and culture, lay in ruins, their streets silent save for the echoes of recent battles. The countryside, too, bore the scars of war, with fields left fallow and farms destroyed. As France stood at the crossroads of a new era, the monumental task of rebuilding these physical and societal structures loomed large, presenting a challenge that would shape the course of the nation's future.

The leading power brokers were the armed units: the National Guard - divided into local divisions and the federal force - and Popular Army units - which were split by differing political factions and regional commands. Significant tension existed between Popular Army units, especially senior and specialised units, and National Guard units in cities. Fights were breaking out all over the city between rival groups of Guardsmen and Soldiers, with the former complaining of the brutality of the latter, especially around prisoners.

Beyond the military power, trade unionists and labour officials through the CGT were incredibly important as they kept the factories running. The CGT had armed militias to protect factories and defend exports. These militias headed to Paris in droves, representing the radical left of Actionism. Alongside these were municipal leaders and volunteers, who kept the cities and towns running as Defence Committees and Communal Councils. In the wake of the liberation of the centre of Paris, a new Paris Commune was predictably declared. Still, its composition was significantly more diverse and less political, taking on more mundane tasks of municipal governance in the immediate days after the victory.

Moreover, each city was unique in its organisation, but if a job was to be done, there was a committee rather than a single point of authority. Paris was no different. Having been ruled by Boulanger and then the Kingdom for three years, however, and suffering significant population flight, it was perhaps understandable there would be a bit of a transition. A tense atmosphere pieced the first week, as suspicion of a Royalist counter-attack grew, but as the anxiety melted away, a question grew on everyone’s mind - What now?

It would take a week before delegates from across the country, bar those still occupied by the Royalists, arrived to discuss what to do in Paris. Much work had been done in the provinces to repair railway lines and get the logistical issues out of the way, but the delays were caused by arguments over who could go and what credentials they would need. In the end, everyone was allowed to show up as long as they were loyal to Boulanger and disavowed the King. This was pretty easy for many people in France, as the King’s imposition had turned Frenchmen against Frenchmen and caused a civil war. Boulanger returned and ended it.

Nearly 5,000 people, claiming to be ‘delegates,’ arrived. There were so many that there was no hall big enough to contain them all, so plenary sessions were done outside a city centre park in the cold before the delegates were split up into smaller groups to send representatives to a standing committee. The Directory led the convention, recognising the need to pull the unruly bunch in some direction. Still, even within the Directory, differing power bases and factions developed between the eight men who occupied the provisional government.

Fernand Pelloutier, Directory Member and One of the Leaders of the CGT​

Keufer and Pelloutier represented the CGT and held sway within the vast militia apparatus, the Labour Committees, and the National Guard. While Maurice Barrés and René Boylesve were novelists, they and Amouretti represented the faction most associated with Boulanger. Still, they were less politically minded and more vaguely nationalistic than the left of the Directory. They held power through their relationship with Boulanger himself and, therefore, held considerable power within this provisional administration - and feared their influence might be diminished after drafting a constitution. Generals Galland and Foch were in a similar position, fearing that a transition to a civilian government would reduce the emerging power of the Popular Army.

Finally, there was Maurras. Maurras had a popular base, was thought of as one of the critical philosophers of the revolution, and was a crucial element in starting the schism. He was also entirely alone in the provisional government and, in private, believed that he would form the ‘true opposition’ within the Government itself. “My role is to expose the inadequacies of men like Keufer and his secret commitment to Internationalism,” Maurras told Sorel in a letter hours after his appointment to the Directory.

Sorel was the other figure, lurking from outside the Directory. Boulanger and Sorel, despite the former’s conversion to his beliefs, did not mix well on a personal level, so even when Maurras insisted he be included, Sorel politely declined. “I am better served observing rather than governing,” said Sorel to Boulanger when the latter invited him to join his provisional government. Very few in France would be capable of turning down the Généralissme - but Sorel might have been the exception.

Ironically, despite eschewing Internationalism as practised by Iberia, in the early days of post-Civil War France, Sorel was moving decisively away from Maurras’ growing militant nationalism and towards Keufer’s scientific and technocratic syndicalism. In a letter to Action Française, Sorel hinted at this subtle change.

“As I see it, the only way to rule France is to observe and examine the situation as it exists in reality,” Sorel said, “five major sources of power emanate and must be considered when deciding on the future direction of the governance of the Francophonie. The first is the National Guard, which protects the civilian population. The second is the Popular Army, whose sacrifice alongside the Guardsmen and Militias from the CGT allowed us to defeat the usurpers. The third is the CGT, without whose support our economic output would cease, and fourth, the supporters and organisers in communes and municipalities.”

“Finally, and most importantly, there is the overriding source of legitimacy for the state: Généralissme and undisputed leader of the French worldwide, Georges Boulanger. Any settlement on the governance of France and its territories beyond must incorporate these five power sources, or we are doomed to repeat the mistakes of the last regime,” he concluded.

George Sorel, architect of the 1893 French Constitution​

Sorel was accurate in this assessment. Without the buy-in of all the stakeholders in the conflict, there would be no stable government in France and beyond. In a letter to Maurras, he rebuffed the young firebrands' attempts to exclude Keufer and potentially the CGT from the process. “It would be unwise to seek to alienate the labour force, given the workers and syndicates provided the initial spark for the Second Revolution,” Sorel noted.

Concerned about the potential to completely unravel the unity between the victor’s factions, Sorel took action and, after the plenary session, offered his services to the groups attempting to draft a constitution that would please all groups.

This recognition of the need for inclusive governance set the tone for the constitutional convention. Over several weeks, representatives from the various factions and power centres engaged in intense negotiations to draft a constitution for the newly liberated France. Sorel approached Keufer to ensure the discussions were characterised by a spirit of pragmatism, recognising the need to balance the diverse interests and ideologies that had come together in the struggle against the monarchy. “If we cannot achieve a synthesis of each of the goals of the revolutionaries, we are doomed to lose all the gains of the revolution and allow the Monarchy to regroup and return stronger,” Sorel said to the CGT leader.

As they stepped away from the bustling assembly, Sorel was reported to have mused, “Auguste, do you think we can truly unite these divergent paths?” Keufer, looking over the sea of delegates, responded, “It's like weaving a tapestry from different threads, Georges. Difficult, but not impossible if we remember the picture we're trying to create.”

Keufer listened and participated with a conciliatory spirit. He and Pelloutier, representing the CGT, advocated for a constitution that would institutionalise the role of workers in the governance process. They proposed the establishment of a state where groups representing different sectors of the economy, managed by the CGT, would play a key role. This approach aimed to ensure workers' voices were central in decision-making, particularly in economic matters.

Maurras was less engaged in the process, however, preferring to rally the people on the ground to continue his role as the firebrand rabble-rouser of the working class. At the same time as the convention was ongoing, he embarked on a public tour with Boulanger to encourage provincial citizens to continue the fight to eradicate the monarchy in Metropolitan France.

Charles Maurras, the youngest member of the French Provisional Government​

Profiting from the disorganisation of the pro-regime elements at the local level, wherever he went, he encouraged the formation of a central ‘Vigilance Committee’ to, in his words, “assist the National Guard and Popular Army against the fifth column of metis and foreigners working against the society we, as Francophones, are building together. France is the culture, the guiding force in liberty. We must resist an attempt to roll back the gains we have made. Organise, centralise, and coordinate your efforts,” he said. Comités took this to mean a brutal strike against those deemed unsatisfactorily revolutionary.

These Vigilance Committees led to a new force of ultra-motivated Actionists searching for the enemy within. In weeks after, this energy transformed these groups into a further faction within the revolution, known as Comités. Comités would form the vanguard of Maurras’ followers and brutally suppress dissent, focusing on elements within the trade unions and civil society that came from the liberal parts of the Actionists.

In the days after the victory of the Actionists, especially in areas where Maurras and Boulanger visited, violence sky-rocketed as motivated “winners” of the revolution targetted the usual victims of repression on the Actionist side throughout the conflict: remaining foreigners in France, Jews, so-called ‘profiteers’ of the old system (mostly Bakers and those who had refused to collaborate with the new labour committees), protestants, and known monarchists.

Maurras' journey from a revolutionary philosopher to the head of the Comités was profound during these initial days. Initially seen as a thinker and a voice of the revolution, Maurras' rhetoric began to take a more pragmatic and authoritarian turn. As the leader of the Comités, he was no longer just advocating for ideas but was actively shaping the new order with his own hands. His speeches, once filled with philosophical musings, became directives and orders.

The Comités, under his command, swiftly evolved from a revolutionary tool to an instrument of order and control. This change was not without its critics; many within the revolution began to view Maurras with a mix of awe and apprehension. Some saw his newfound pragmatism as a necessary evil, while others whispered concerns of a potential return to authoritarianism, this time under a different guise. He had a physical transformation, too.

The 25-year-old started to dress in a Popular Army uniform wherever he went, held rosary beads as he spoke to connect with the deeply religious rural communities, and, as a report from a journalist noted, “carried himself with a god-like authority. Behind Boulanger, he presented himself to the peasants as if he were the Jesus, to Boulanger’s God.” Concern was growing among many within the victorious camp. Not least, this concern was felt by Boulanger, who, according to Richard Wall & ‎Jay Winter's account of the Second French Revolution, A Turning Tide: Actionism 1889-1899, confronted Maurras two weeks after the fall of Paris:

"A porter from Orleans, a Comité no less, noted something odd in his diary after the Boulanger and Maurras had visited the city. As he walked through the Town Hall, badly damaged in the conflict, he heard Boulanger's stern voice echoing. ‘Maurras, your Comités are inciting fear, not order!' Maurras, with a defiant glare, retorted, 'We must be firm, Générallisme. Our revolution is at stake! Softness will only encourage dissent.' Boulanger retorted, 'Remember, we fought for freedom from monarchy, not freedom to impose tyranny. Your methods risk everything we've built.'”

 

[President Conor]

V, XLIV: The New Constitution

While Maurras travelled the country driving divisions between the differing groups of the Revolution, in Paris, the mood was significantly more conciliatory. The delegates, detached from the revolutionary turn in the provinces, began the diligent work of drawing up a new system of government. As of March 17th, when the delegation began dividing into its subcommittees to draw up the text of the new founding document of the nation, the state had no name, no official head of state, no legislative or executive body bar the provisional government, and no enumerated rights or requirements of citizens. All in all, France was a country in anarchy, ironically given the Actionist's fear of the concept.

Auguste Keufer, member of the Provisional Government ​

Auguste Keufer wrongly believed that the state's power would be forged here, in Paris, and emanate out to the rest of the country. He believed in building a state that combined the elements of the revolution: power to the workers, the stewardship of Boulanger, anti-parliamentarianism and anti-liberal democracy, and pro-direct democracy. He envisaged control of the state held by the people of France at home and abroad, in line with Boulanger’s philosophy of a global Francophone community. For fifteen days, Keufer, with the help of Sorel, devised a radically different form of government than had come before it, even more radical, arguably, than the Universal of the Democratic Federation of Iberia.

The constitution established a federation of communes called the L’Union Fédérative Populaire de la Francophonie (Federative Popular Union of the Francophones, or FPUF). The state was to encompass the whole French Empire as it stood (although, in reality, it had control over a small proportion of French Africa) and placed the whole of the wealth and industry of the state in the workers, with central roles for the Confédération Générale du Travail (CGT), the Popular Army, the National Guard, and communes organised within Metropolitan France and its overseas territories.

For local and municipal government, the country was divided into nearly 30,000 communes - ranging in size from large cities like Paris and Marseilles to villages of a few hundred inhabitants. Each commune was to manage all land, all industry, and all municipal services and elect a council made up of workers in each district.

Keufer and Sorel envisioned a society where syndicates represented each sector of the economy. These syndicates, ranging from the Federation of Metalworkers to the National Federation of State Workers, were to have significant sway, dictating policies and regulations within their respective domains. This structure was designed to decentralise economic power, ensuring direct representation and participation of workers in the governance process. Keufer, echoing Boulanger's desire to spread the revolution to overseas Francophones, called on actionists in the colonies to form syndicates, seize factories from royalist colonial administrators, and align with the CGT.

The legislative authority resided with the bicameral Federative Congress, comprising two councils. The Council of Citizens, elected by universal suffrage, handled laws related to justice, police, armed forces, and the relationship between the central government and communes. On the other hand, the Council of Syndicates, formed by members chosen by each syndicate organised by commune, was responsible for business, commerce, labour relations, and public services legislation. Both councils would sit jointly for matters like foreign treaties, constitutional amendments, and appointing a dictator in emergencies, ensuring checks and balances in governance.

Congress would have the ability to take two routes in terms of executive power. If it chose to do so, it could vest power in a dictator, who would be given emergency powers to appoint heads of government departments, pass decrees, sign treaties with foreign powers, and take control of the Popular Army and National Guard. While the Dictator’s decision could be challenged, it required a majority of the Council of Citizens, Council of Syndicates, a majority of the country’s communes, and the public as a whole in a referendum - the so-called “quadruple lock.” This role was designed for Boulanger and, as Keufer noted in his notes to the delegation, “was designed to stabilise and centralise authority in times of the greatest need, and when the nation identifies a leader with which it can trust ultimate authority.”

When a dictator was not appointed, executive power was distributed among an Executive Committee of the Federative Congress, which was responsible for varied domains such as Foreign Affairs, Treasury, and Education appointed by the Congress. The members were either selected by the legislature or appointed by the dictator in times of emergency. This arrangement was a balancing act, ensuring that the executive branch remained accountable without a dictator and power was not concentrated in the hands of a few.

As the undisputed leader of the French worldwide, Généralissme Boulanger's authority seemed unchallengeable. Yet, within the newly formed political structure, tensions began to surface. The role of the dictator, designed for Boulanger, was both a symbol of unity and a potential point of contention. Boulanger's leadership style, pivotal in unifying the factions during the revolution, was now under scrutiny. Questions arose about how his decisions aligned with the broader democratic aspirations of the revolution. This tension played out during early meetings of the provisional government and in the corridors of power, revealing the complexities of governing a revolution that prided itself on diverse ideologies and decentralisation.

The judiciary was restructured to include a Supreme Court, Communal Courts, Labour Court, Civil Court, and Criminal Court, each with specific judicial responsibilities. This redesign aimed to streamline the legal process and ensure justice was accessible and equitable.

Recognising the military's pivotal role in the revolution, the constitution formalised the roles of the National Guard and the Popular Army. While the National Guard focused on internal defence, the Popular Army, requiring mandatory service, was in charge of external security. During the transition, the Directory, with figures like Keufer, Pelloutier, Maurras, and Generals Galland and Foch, held the reins of executive power. This provisional government was necessary to ensure stability and continuity as the new governmental structures took shape.

Despite its focus on workers' rights and economic restructuring, the constitution also made provisions for preserving French culture and national identity, accommodating the more traditionalist views of figures like Maurras. Keufer was at pains to be seen to bring Maurras and the more conservative Boulangists into the state and resisted calls from the more militant secularist CGT elements to launch a brutal round of laicism. Despite this, elements within the pro-Boulanger clergy founded a Gallicised Catholic Church. Boulanger, hoping to receive recognition for the new government from heavily Catholic Austria, urged them to refrain and continue to align with Rome for the time being.

Rouen, temporary capital of the Kingdom of France (March-May 1893)​

All these developments disregarded the fact that the King was still in France, and the Kingdom and its weakened military forces controlled about 15% of the country. Shoehorned into North West France, particularly Britanny and Normandy, the Kingdom now centred on Rouen. Despite all this, the consensus, even among the Kingdom’s erstwhile allies of convenience, Britain, Italy, and Germany, was that its days as a source of power in France were over. Desperately, it pleaded with the governments of its neighbours to provide it with some kind of assistance to its failing regime.

As confirmation of the fall of Paris came into view, Salisbury stated to the Senate on March 18th. The British diplomatic presence had already been severely curtailed throughout February and March and moved to St. Malo, where arms shipments were brought in. What was left was a skeleton staff of around 10, including Edward Monson, the Ambassador to France, who moved to Rouen with most of the French Royalist Government before the collapse of France. Salisbury called the developments “regrettable and concerning” but stopped short of committing to more military aid for the Kingdom of France.

Nikolay Girs & Count Gustav Kálnoky together in 1893 discussing the French conflict​

Notably, Russia and Austria’s embassies in Paris remained open throughout, and the provisional government quickly confirmed the continuation of its ambassadors in Vienna and St Petersburg. Nikolay Girs & Count Gustav Kálnoky exchanged telegrams after the fall of Paris and reiterated their monarch’s desire to sit tight and wait for things to develop.

Despite this, both established contact with the provisional government and ended their practical contact with the Royalist Government after the fall of Paris. Despite the King personally attempting to contact Emperor Franz-Joseph to reassert the monarchy’s legitimacy, Kálnoky urged the court to avoid favouring the beleaguered figurehead. Despite the lack of dots on the Is and crosses on the Ts, the Kingdom of France was dead.

As the dust of revolution settled over Paris and the echoes of discord faded in the provinces, a new dawn approached for France. The fall of the Kingdom and the rise of the Federative Popular Union marked not just a change of power but a transformation in the very soul of the nation. The streets of Paris, once marred by the scars of conflict, now buzzed with anxious discussions of rebuilding and renewal. In the halls of the provisional government, ideologies and aspirations competed to form a vision for a France that was as ambitious as it was untested.

The new constitution, a bold experiment in syndicalist democracy, promised a future where power was rooted in the hands of the workers and the will of the people. Yet, beneath this hopeful veneer, the reality of a nation deeply scarred by war lingered. The challenges of reconstruction were immense, and the societal wounds were deep. The cost of the conflict, in both human and economic terms, was a constant reminder of the price paid for freedom and change. As Émile Zola wrote in mid-March 1893, “We worry, that is what we do in France. I once said, ‘There is no hope in the future; the present appears atrociously bitter.’ Unknowingly, I lied. There was much hope; now, behind smiles of relief, there is only despair.”

In the countryside, where the remnants of the old Kingdom clung to a dwindling hope, the future seemed uncertain. But even there, the winds of change were palpable, whispering promises of a new era. The international community watched with a cautious eye, uncertain of what this new France would bring to the global stage. Some nations offered a tentative recognition, while others held back, waiting to see the direction of the fledgling government.

As the chapter of the Second French Revolution closed, a new narrative began to unfold. A narrative of a nation reborn from the ashes of its tumultuous past, embarking on a path laden with both opportunity and peril. This was not an end but a beginning—the first steps of France's journey into a future where its destiny was yet to be written.

 

[President Conor]

Here's something to keep everyone satisfied until the next full update, which won't be too much longer, I promise! @TheBerlinguer, the map will also be coming soon - just need to find some time to work it up.

From The Sunday Republic, Thursday 14th December 2023: “Embarrassment, Poor Batting, and Reclaiming the Lost Soul of British Cricket: How the Ashes Began” by Jonathan Wilson:

“The origins of the Ashes lie in a test between the All-England team, representing all of the old concept of England, and Australia in 1882, in which the Aussies defeated the English on home soil at the Oval. Upon defeat, The Sporting Times produced an obituary to English cricket with the final note, “the body will be cremated and the Ashes taken to Australia.”

Such a simple quip was devastating for the health and morale of English cricket, but the health of the game after 1882 meant that no official tours were conducted for the next decade. This changed in the winter of 1893 when to celebrate the founding of the Union of Australasia, the MCC raised an “All-Union XI” to conduct a tour, playing in New Zealand, New South Wales, Victoria, and South Australia over the course of twenty weeks.

Funds were raised through extra test matches between the Mets and All-England, with 15,000 spectators packing into the Oval for the final day of play. Unionist politician Senator Henry North Holroyd, known by his aristocratic title of Lord Sheffield, played an active role in the organisation of the tour and funded part of the expenses from his personal estate. His enduring legacy in Australasia was represented by the donation of £150 to the Australasian Cricket Board to purchase a trophy to be given to the state test champions. In his honour, the test champions are, to this day, awarded the Sheffield Shield.

There was much excitement surrounding the voyage of the Union’s best cricketers to the colony but much trepidation about restoring glory to cricket in the Union by beating the Australasians. It was undoubtedly an excellent team sent by the Union, captained by the best cricketer of his generation, WG Grace.

On route in January 1893, the All-Union played a test against a team from Ceylon, the third such time a team from England/the Union had visited Ceylon. Gregor McGregor, the mercurial wicket-keeper and captain of Scotland, was named alongside Lancashire captain and star bowler Johnny Briggs. Representatives from the Mets, Yorkshire, and Mercia were also included, giving the team a true Union feel.

Representing the interconnected and modern era of the 1890s, journalists from The Times, The Sunday Republic, and The Union accompanied the tourists on the trip and thrilled Britons with tales from the escapades of the All-Union team. While Grace would never refer to the endeavour as “reclaiming the Ashes,” a number of his teammates spoke of their desire to win the series in an attempt to restore the soul of British cricket, and when Briggs referred to the series as the “the tour to reclaim the Ashes,” the moniker caught on in the colony and at home.

Unluckily for Britain, the first test at the Melbourne Cricket Ground began poorly, and while the team was able to win the second test in Sydney, they were unable to recover, losing the third test, in part thanks to Briggs’ poor batting. Still, the endeavour was considered a great success, and a reciprocal tour was arranged for 1895 and would continue every two years with some very minor exceptions, to this day.

It is a testament to the rivalry between these two teams that throughout the Turbulence, when travelling over the seas was considered among the most dangerous pursuits in the world, that the tour continued, albeit in a different form. In 1897, when the worst of the naval offensives occurred, the Australasian Cricket Board allowed the formation of an eleven of Australasians based in the Union to compete against the old enemy for the coveted Ashes, and in the 1905 Wisden Almanac, the series was officially christened by the Ashes, today a by-word for the greatest rivalry in international cricket.”

 

[President Conor]

Excerpt from "The World Unraveled: A New Age of Empires and Revolutions (1890-1900)" by George Donelson Moss:

“Chapter 14: The Hawaiian Upheaval of 1893
In the late March of 1893, the Hawaiian Kingdom, a sovereign archipelago in the mid-Pacific, witnessed a tumultuous upheaval that altered its destiny. The Kamehameha Dynasty, which had ruled since the late 18th century, found its final monarch, Queen Liliʻuokalani, deposed in a coup led by American and European residents of the islands, primarily plantation owners and businessmen. This event was not merely a local disturbance but a crucial episode in the grand narrative of American expansionism and imperial ambition.

The seeds of this overthrow were sown decades earlier, as the lucrative sugar industry, established by foreigners, began to reshape Hawaii's economy and society. The growing influence of American interests in Hawaiian governance was evident, especially with the Reciprocity Treaty of 1875, which made Hawaiian sugar competitive in the U.S. market. This economic dependency further entrenched the United States' involvement in Hawaiian affairs.

The dramatic shift came with the Bayonet Constitution of 1887, which significantly reduced the monarchy's power and increased the political influence of non-native Hawaiians. This constitution, forced upon King David Kalākaua, was a direct response to the growing tension between the native Hawaiian population and the powerful sugar planters, who were mostly American and European nationals.

The crux of the Hawaiian crisis in 1893 lay in Queen Liliʻuokalani's attempt to introduce a new constitution that would restore the diminished powers of the monarchy and increase the rights of native Hawaiians. This move, however, was perceived as a direct threat to the interests of the foreign business community, especially those from the United States.

Amidst this internal strife, the global political scenario, particularly the tensions arising from the French Civil War and the rising influence of the Farmer-Labor Party in the United States, played a significant role. The Farmer-Labor Party, advocating for a more isolationist and domestically focused policy, initially viewed the events in Hawaii with skepticism. Their concern was primarily the protection of American economic interests rather than outright annexation.

However, with the overthrow of the Hawaiian monarchy and the establishment of a provisional government by the Committee of Safety, comprising mostly American citizens, the call for annexation grew louder. Grover Cleveland, inaugurated as President in a charged political atmosphere, faced the dilemma of responding to this unprecedented situation. When the Committee of Safety, led by Sanford B. Dole, declared a Provisional Government, pressure rained down on the Federal Government to annex the territory from the putschists.

Cleveland, representing the Federalist faction, emphasized the importance of upholding international law and respecting the sovereignty of nations. His administration was marked by a cautious approach, advocating for an investigation into the circumstances of the overthrow. Cleveland's stance was influenced by the prevalent mood in his administration, which, despite its Federalist leanings, was divided on the issue of imperialism and expansion.

The Democratic-Republican opposition, however, criticized Cleveland's hesitancy, arguing for a more assertive American role in the Pacific. They saw the overthrow as an opportunity for the United States to expand its influence and secure its strategic interests, particularly in light of growing Japanese power in the region and the uncertain situation in Europe.

The annexation of Hawaii, though delayed by Cleveland's administration, eventually occurred in 1896 during the opening shots of the Turbulence. In the meantime, the Provisional Government declared a Republic in Hawaii on July 4, 1894. The events in Hawaii highlighted the growing tensions between isolationist and expansionist viewpoints within the United States and underscored the nation's evolving role on the world stage. They also spooked many Pacific powers, including Germany, Britain, and Japan, who saw the effect of American industrial might on territories like Hawaii as a stark warning. The US would need to tread carefully in the future, to not arise suspicion of the Republic becoming an Empire.”

 

[President Conor]

Here is an (extremely rough, I apologize) map of the British States with a key attached:

1. State of Scotland
2. State of Northumbria
3. State of Yorkshire
4. Palatinate of Lancashire
5. City & Liberties of Liverpool
6. Free City of Manchester
7. State of Mercia
8. State of England
9. Metropolis (London)
10. State of Wales
11. State of Wessex
12. State of Cornwall
13. State of Ireland
14. Orange State
15. State of the Western Isles
16. State of the Northern Isles

 

[President Conor]

V, XLV: The Great Game in The Far East

Dowager Empress Cixi​

In the waning years of the 19th century, a delicate dance of power and ambition played out on the vast stage of Far East Asia. At the heart of this evolving drama were the Accord Powers – each with its own aspirations - and the rest of the Great Powers. The United States, Britain, and Germany had become the titans of the sea, and with the inclusion of an increasingly assertive Japan, the alliance's maritime might swelled. While they individually commanded vast territories and interests across the world, in Asia, their vision seemed somewhat aligned: curbing the towering influence of Qing China and a resurgent Russia. The Pacific was their shared domain, a vast expanse they were determined to shield from potential adversaries like France and Russia.

As the 19th century drew to a close, the relationship between China and the Great Powers was characterized by a complex interplay of dominance, resistance, and strategic diplomacy. The traditional colonial powers, notably the Accord Powers, approached China with a blend of opportunism and paternalism. Britain, with its extensive colonial experience, saw China as another jewel to be added to its imperial crown, albeit a challenging one. Germany, on the other hand, sought economic inroads, viewing China as a lucrative market and a source of valuable resources. The United States, with its doctrine of 'open doors,' pushed for equal trading rights, while Japan eyed territorial expansion and influence in mainland Asia.

Though once unmatched in its grandeur and influence, the Qing Dynasty now resembled a fading star, its brilliance dimmed by internal strife and external pressures. It was this weakened China that the Accord Powers eyed with a mix of pity and opportunism. But it wasn’t just territorial gain or trade interests that animated their strategies; they sought equilibrium.

In the 1890s, the Qing Dynasty was in the throes of rapid decline. The root causes of this deterioration lay not just in external pressures but deep within its own court politics and bureaucracy. At the heart of this political maelstrom was the Dowager Empress Cixi. Having risen from a mere concubine to wield the true power behind the throne, her reign was marked by progressive reforms and staunch resistance to any external influence that could weaken her grasp.

By bolstering Japan, the Accord Powers intended to create a counterweight in the region so the powers could divide China between them. Britain sought a great buffer to the Chinese state by occupying Tibet, Germany desired trading posts in Shandong to act as a refueling station for its navy and to support its possessions in the Pacific, and the United States wanted to hoover up refuelling stations for its pacific endevours and international tradings posts.

Anjo Crossing City & Harbor, Wonsan, Korea, 1893, captured by William Henry Jackson​

Japan, for its part, embraced this role with enthusiasm, sensing an opportunity to accelerate its rise on the world stage and extend its influence over territories like Korea and Formosa and claim wavering French protectorates like Indochina and equally profit from a weakening China by expanding its own territory. Korea, to the northeast of China, had earned its nickname, the 'Hermit Kingdom,' owing to its long-standing policy of isolationism. For centuries, Korea had maintained its sovereignty by skillfully playing its larger neighbors, China and Japan, against each other. Yet, its strategic location, rich resources, and potential as a springboard for further ambitions in mainland Asia made it a coveted prize for both Qing China and Meiji Japan. While China viewed Korea as a traditional tributary state, reinforcing its own vision of being the Middle Kingdom, Japan saw Korea as a stepping stone for its expansionist aspirations and as a buffer against potential threats from mainland Asia.

Parallelly, to the northwest of Korea, Russia cast its ambitious eyes on Manchuria. Rich in resources and offering a warm-water port for the Russian Pacific fleet, Manchuria was key to Tsarist Russia's eastward ambitions. However, their southward push into the region directly threatened Japan's designs on Korea and the balance of power in the region. The Japanese leadership, already wary of Russia's 'yellow peril' rhetoric, viewed Russian expansion into Manchuria as a precursor to a potential invasion of Korea, which would bring the Russian bear firmly to Japan's doorstep. This intensifying rivalry set the stage for future conflicts and further muddied the waters of East Asian geopolitics.

The FPUF, developing quickly out of the fiery cauldrons of the French Civil War, had started to make their presence felt and, seeing the lie of the land after the fall of much of Central France over February 1893, began to organize and plan for a post-Civil War France. Despite the collapse in relations between France and China that ended in the Sino-French War of 1884, the new Government believed it could repair relations with the Qing Dynasty and use them as a key bargaining tool against the other Great Powers. Their foreign policy ideology, rooted in a fervent desire to counteract the excesses of the hegemony of Britain, Germany, and the United States, found unexpected traction in certain quarters of the traditional imperial powers, the Qing Dynasty and the Russian Empire.

In April 1893, an unconventional delegation made its way to the heart of the Qing Empire. Not official diplomats in the traditional sense, but French émigrés sympathetic to the Actionist cause, led by the charismatic Louis de Geofroy. A patriotic individual who was deeply affected by the Royalist seizure of power, de Geofroy, living in Peking, rejoiced at the news of the collapse of the Monarchy and the Second French Revolution. Shortly after the fall of Paris, de Geofroy contacted just about everyone who might have held power about conducting a mission in France to win recognition from China for the new regime. After about a month, he got his reply - a half-hearted response indicating he should round up anyone who was as enthusiastic as him about engaging in diplomacy, establish a diplomatic office, and go for it. Their mission was to establish an initial contact and explore the possibility of collaboration.

This new alignment, however, was not without its challenges. While the Qing Dynasty, under the guidance of Empress Dowager Cixi, cautiously entertained the FPUF's overtures, they remained deeply suspicious of foreign intentions – a skepticism born from decades of dealing with colonial ambitions. The FPUF's strategy necessitated a delicate balance, offering enough to gain the Qing's trust without triggering their defensive instincts.

Louis de Geofroy, Unofficial French Diplomat in Peking​

As Cixi navigated the complexities of the Qing court, seeking ways to modernize and strengthen the weakening empire, the French, led by de Geofroy, saw an opportunity. Approaching the more forward-thinking officials within the Qing court, they offered promises of support against the encroachments of the Accord Powers. Their subtle blend of ideology and pragmatism appealed to those within the Qing administration who believed that China could reinvent itself by selectively adopting foreign ideas without succumbing to their dominance.

Way beyond his authority, De Geofroy pitched a vision of a new world. With the whole of the French state directed towards whatever the people desired, without the need for markets, bankers, or other intermediaries, he said, the PFUF could use China as a base to reassert control of Indochina while in exchange, the Popular Army could arm the Qing and train them to repel the British, Germans, Americans, and Japanese from the peninsular and reassert their dominant position against the encroaching Accord Powers. Paris could also use its leverage over St Petersburg to reduce the pressure upon it by Russia, De Geofroy claimed. It is worth noting he had not discussed any of this with anyone in the new government, but his charisma and charm managed to get him quite far in the court, even securing a meeting with Qu Hongji, the de facto Chinese Foreign Minister.

The Qing, though wary of foreign intentions given their recent history, couldn’t ignore the potential benefits of aligning with such a movement. Here was an ideology that, on the face of it, seemed to challenge the imperialistic ambitions of the very powers that threatened Chinese sovereignty.

The negotiations were veiled in secrecy and fraught with challenges. The conservative elements within the Qing court viewed the Actionists and their French representatives with skepticism, fearing the introduction of radical ideas that could destabilize the empire further. However, the seeds of a potential alliance were sown. The Accord Powers, with their maritime might and strategic vision, had staked their claims. The Actionists, led by General Boulanger, with their radical ideas and unconventional diplomacy, had signaled their intent. The stage was set for a tumultuous new chapter in the history of the continent.

Against the backdrop of these developments, the French Civil War, despite reaching its apex, still simmered on in France and, more importantly, in her colonies. French West Africa and Algeria, owing to the particular attention paid by Boulanger to the African colonies, were secure, but much of the countries outside of that, in South Asia and the Pacific, had yet to be controlled and still contained Royalist aligned administrations. De Geofroy

The Actionists had made significant gains, capturing several new settlements and becoming the rulers of France in waiting by March 1893, but still had much to contend with. As diplomats around the world sympathetic to General Boulanger and his cause worked tirelessly to further his aims and sabotage the remaining elements of the Kingdom of France, the Actionists found themselves increasingly confident in their pursuit of revolutionary change globally.

 

[President Conor]

V, XLVI: Symbolic Restoration

President Regent Edward Stanley, 15th Earl of Derby, 4th President-Regent of the Union of Great Britain​

Everyone knew what was coming. President-Regent Stanley had been in serious decline for two years since an illness he suffered in 1891, but by the turn of the year, he looked frail and declined from appearing in public outside of official duties after the agreement with the French. It was an open secret he had been struggling despite his age of just 66.

Aside from his desire to use the role to promote unity wherever possible, Stanley had been a quiet influence on proceedings. Chamberlain believed Stanley was a moderating figure serving the interests of the Unionists, and he had served his purpose. Despite this, over the course of his term, the Unionists had unwittingly rebuilt the aristocracy through the appointed posts under the authority of the President-Regent: Lieutenants, University rectors, and the heads of the various societies and agencies. Most importantly, the Empire, where Stanley had created a web of interconnected aristocratic revivalism. The country elite of England found themselves spread across society once again.

Such restorationism was controversial inside and outside the Unionist Party, but the need for stability and continuity was more important to the party than any dogma about Republicanism. To Republicans, the need to stay out of trouble with the authorities weighed on their minds more than any ideology. Even the SDF, the most radical group in Parliament, forwent any attempt to complain about the President-Regent, owing primarily to Stanley’s popularity with the British public.

In the crisp dawn of April 5th, 1893, the nation awoke to sombre news. The President-Regent, a figure that had been a steady anchor during tumultuous times over the past nine years, had breathed his last. His passing left an unmistakable void, both in the hearts of the British people and in the framework of the Constitution. As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, the sombre news of President-Regent Stanley's passing began its journey across the nation. In the heart of London, the telegraph office became a hive of activity, operators clattering away at their keys, dispatching messages that carried the weight of a nation in mourning.

In the bustling newsroom of The Union, the air was thick with the scent of ink and paper as journalists scurried about, piecing together the story that would soon be on everyone's lips. The printing presses roared to life, churning out editions that would carry the news from the smog-filled streets of the capital to the furthest corners of the British Isles. The country was reeling from shocking reports of revolution across the channel, and many had looked to Stanley, who had calmed the nation through the March Masscres, for comfort and stability.

In the urban coffeehouses, frequented by the intellectual and the curious, the news arrived with the morning papers. Patrons huddled around shared copies, their voices a low murmur as they read aloud the headlines that spoke of the end of an era. The discussions that followed were a blend of political speculation and personal remembrance, a testament to the late President-Regent's far-reaching influence.

President-Regent Stanley's State Funeral​

In the countryside, the news meandered through the rural lanes, delivered by the steady pace of the postman's cart. In the pubs and village squares, locals gathered, their conversations punctuated by solemn nods and the raising of glasses in tribute to a man they had never met yet felt they knew.

Back in the corridors of power, the impact of Stanley's death was no less profound. Chamberlain, upon receiving an urgent telegram, felt the weight of the moment settle upon his shoulders. He summoned his closest advisors, their hurried footsteps echoing through the halls of Whitehall as they convened to discuss the nation's future.

The news also reached Senator Robert Cecil, not through the impersonal words of a telegram but in a carefully penned letter delivered by a trusted courier. As he broke the seal and unfolded the paper, Cecil knew that the contents would not just inform him of Stanley's passing but also of the monumental task that lay ahead. A task that many were already whispering was his destiny to undertake.

Britain found itself at the precipice of a new era, yearning for a leader who could guide them through the murk of uncertainty. The country was anxious, as the newspapers had been filled with stories from France outlining an extremely hostile regime coming to power, refugees spilling into European countries, and financial markets in ruin.

Still, as tradition dictated, the High Chancellor temporarily took over the duties of the Regent, and the Speaker of the House of Commons was quick to action. He called a Grand Committee tasked with selecting the next President-Regent two days after his death. The air in the political chambers was thick with speculation and anticipation.

Whispers and discreet conversations echoed through hallways. Eyes and hopes were turning to a single figure: Senator Robert Cecil. The Senator was not just any statesman. He had recently won the hearts of many an ordinary Briton with his adept handling of international tensions, quelling their fears about an impending war. To many, Cecil seemed like a beacon of hope in a sea of worldwide uncertainty, making him the most likely candidate to fill Stanley’s significant shoes.

Chamberlain and Churchill were less sure of Senator Cecil’s ability to fulfil the role in a conciliatory manner to the Union Government. The Prime Minister wrote to Churchill a few days after President-Regent Stanley’s death, summarizing his apprehension:

“The sombre dawn has cast a shadow upon us all, and our nation is in mourning. The loss of President-Regent Stanley leaves not just a void in our constitutional framework but a deep chasm in the political landscape that we must now navigate.

While his health had been waning, the gravity of his absence truly strikes me now. His moderating hand, even behind the scenes, was felt more than many realise. His actions, often subtle, brought a measure of stability to our tumultuous political realm. I fear we may soon feel the weight of his absence keenly. The annuls of time will remember him as a true father of Unionism.

Eyes and ears are now aflutter with rumours of his replacement, and I must say I am somewhat surprised by the growing consensus around Cecil, though his recent successes cannot be overlooked. I know that you, like me, value the integrity and stability of our nation, so I seek your counsel on this matter. How do you perceive this shift, and what are your thoughts on Cecil potentially taking up the mantle of President-Regent?”

Senator Robert Arthur Talbot Gascoyne-Cecil, Foreign Secretary, formerly the 3rd Marquess of Salisbury​

Randolph Churchill responded the same day, with the letter reaching Chamberlain on the 7th of April, the day before the vote.

“Your letter found me amidst a flurry of whispered conversations. The political corridors are abuzz with speculation, and the mood is electric. I share your sentiments about Stanley’s absence; his quiet yet profound influence was a bedrock on which we stood, often unknowingly.

As for Senator Robert Cecil, I do find the momentum around his name to be rather astonishing. However, it's undeniable that his diplomatic prowess has endeared him to many. But, like you, I do hold reservations. While Cecil has shown himself to be a capable statesman, the office of the President-Regent is not merely about diplomacy. It requires a certain depth, temperance, and wisdom that Stanley so effortlessly exuded. Can Salisbury fill such shoes? I am uncertain.

I propose that we meet, perhaps even with a few trusted colleagues, to discuss the political landscape ahead. This is a crucial juncture for our nation, and I believe that our collective insight can help navigate the challenges that lie before us.”

When Chamberlain and Churchill organised a meeting of the senior leadership to a man, they supported Senator Cecil for the role. Seeing there was no prospect for them to hand-pick the candidate like the previous Grand Committee, they submitted and recommended to the 1884 Committee that Cecil receive the Unionists’ backing.

Republicans were worried about the prospect of Cecil taking the reigns but were unconvinced of the ability of any of their Parliamentarians to gain enough support from Unionists to overturn the will of the 1884 Committee, who issued strict instructions to back Cecil once consensus emerged that he was the most popular candidate. An attempt from Charles Dilke, of all people, to find a challenger failed after just 7 parliamentarians attended his meeting.

As should be expected by now, given the appetite of every President-Regent for the role prior to appointment, Cecil was uninterested in the role. Still, he was convinced to stand when he was told he could continue his diplomatic duties while maintaining the role of Regent. Cecil was nominated first and, with no clear challenger emerging, was appointed without a Grand Committee vote. Britain had a new head of state.

The election of Robert Cecil to the position of President Regent launched a whirlwind, after which Republicans did not know which way they stood. Within a day, Cecil announced that he would not be addressed by the President Regent name, which was his right. Instead, he would restore his previous title, Lord Salisbury, Regent of Great Britain, as his official title. The jettisoning of the Presidential element of his title irked Republicans who had fought hard to prevent his election, and as it turned out, Salisbury was just getting started.

Bust of Salisbury, Originally in Parliament, now in the Museum of the Republic, London​

He recognised all peerages, restored titles, and returned land still in the public hands to the church. He also insisted that the prefix of Lord be added to the titles of Lieutenant and Senator, as had previously been the case under Victoria. He used an Order-in-Council to restore the Union Jack, the Monarchist flag, to be flown alongside the Union Flag on all public buildings. Finally, he returned the word ‘Royal’ to hundreds of public institutions and bodies that had been stripped of the title during Unionisation. Most notably, the Royal Navy returned, as did the Royal Society, King’s College, and the Royal Shakespeare Company. Britain returned to a day before the death of Victoria, save the monarch, with one stroke of a pen.

Many wondered why Lord Salisbury didn’t go the whole hog and use his election to recall a monarch to the Crown, but he was significantly craftier than most had assumed. Salisbury wanted to give the Monarchists and Conservatives something they wanted - to return to feeling they were in control through lexicon and nomenclature - without upsetting his party's progressive elements by reversing the Constitutional Laws.

He knew that thanks to the existence of the progressives in the Unionists - former Independent Democrats who supported the Republic until the Constitutional Laws were drafted - there would never be the votes to propose recalling a Monarch, even melded with the current arrangement. Therefore, a policy he called ‘symbolic restoration’ took place. Republicans, buoyed by greater and greater numbers of Parliamentarians, vowed to fight the creeping spectre of Royalism back in Parliament.

This gave the British state the trappings of a constitutional monarchy without the monarch in place. Lord Salisbury’s policies, although entirely superficial, enhanced the idea that the country and aristocratic elite had regained control over Britain for the first time since the death of Victoria. The ‘Regency Era’ is characterised by the chaffing between the emerging and confident Republican movement and the country-based, traditionalist, and Unionist Britain represented by the landed elite, former aristocrats (now civil servants and state officials), and army officers. As Andrew Marr notes in his book, The Making of the Modern Union, Britain 1892-1908:

“In the years that spanned from 1893 to 1903, The Executive in Britain seemed to have taken a firm step back into embracing its counter-revolutionary past. This was not the age of flirtation with radical ideals or the allure of continental enlightenment. Oh no, it was an era where governments sang ballads of 'nationalist Christianity,' where the virtues of heroism, unwavering faith, and cohesive unity were celebrated with fervour.

If there was one event they looked upon with undisguised contempt, it was the Actionist French Revolution, viewing it much like a distasteful wine that one regretted tasting. The totalitarian winds that had blown across Europe in the mid-19th century? Not on these shores.

Instead, Britain's gaze turned to seeing itself as a solid wall standing tall against the tide of modernism. At the helm of this Britain was a closed circle, a club if you will, of aristocrats, dutiful civil servants, and staunch army officers. And reigning supreme amongst them, cloaked in admiration and near reverence, was the figure of Lord Salisbury – the embodiment of the counter-revolution.”

Salisbury’s reforms didn’t end with nomenclature, however. The Regent attempted to simplify the running of the Union of Britain by merging the Regency and Presidency into one apparatus, with a Grand Council that would operate similarly to the Privy Council before the Revolution. While the Union Council would still legally remain, the two bodies would be functionally merged together, and both run from Whitehall, where collaboration would be encouraged.

This had two major effects. Firstly, Salisbury could operate closer to Parliament and force cooperation between the States and Parliament. Secondly, this move would allow Salisbury to have a greater impact on governing, thanks to the influence of the Regency on appointments to the new body. Chief in opposition to this move was Chamberlain, who preferred an independent branch of government for the Union, but he was overruled, as the power in the Executive Authority Act granted to Lord Salisbury permitted him to meet “in the time and place of His Excellency’s choosing.”

To do this, Salisbury appointed just four men to the Union Council: Chamberlain, Churchill, High Chancellor A.V. Dicey, and the newly christened and re-nobled Leader of the Senate, Earl Cadogan. In the first year of his term, Salisbury failed to call a single meeting of the Union Council, preferring the wider cabinet (all members of the Government, each appointed to the Presidency), using the presence of Earl Cadogan and A.V. Dicey as an active quorum to enforce decisions with Union Council assent.

These manoeuvres minimised the influence of Chamberlain on the Government without removing him as Prime Minister, a move which would enrage the party at the local level. They also allowed him to rule more directly, using the full extent of his powers to guide and moderate the decisions of radicals within his own party. He believed such a guiding hand to be pivotal to the fate of Britain to navigate the choppy waters ahead successfully. Smaller cliques of power, a hierarchical system, and the restoration of tradition represented Salisbury’s dream of a government ready for restoration.