ISoTL Chapter Fifty-Five (Patreon)

Alexander huffed as he struck the steel against the flint. Sparks flew from the collision, scattering across his lap. Just enough of them landed in the small bowl at the end of his pipe, settling into the lightly packed tobacco. Alexander lifted the pipe, pressing the bit to his lip, and lightly inhaled. Warmth filled his lungs, along with the spicy-sweet taste of sun-cured Manchurian tobacco.

“Why now?”

Alexander exhaled, letting the smoke cloud the room. “You have seen the reports,” he said after a pause. “The Galicians. The Poles. Even in Texas and the Caribbean the pestilence of Nationalism makes itself known. Hispaniola, an island only the size of Sakhalin, seeks to divide itself.”

“And you believe it will spread to Europe.”

“It already has. It is only a matter of time before the next outbreak. Another bourgeois revolution, and we all remember the last.”

Odoyevsky shuddered. Alexander hid his smirk behind the pipe. Truly, the nobility could be so easy to play.

“The revolutions may fail,” Alexander continued. “They may succeed. They will terrify many, and it is during that moment of fear that we will strike. We shall remove the delusion that Nationalism assists the Empire and expose it for the foreign poison that it is.”

“And you wish to be ready when the moment comes. To have not only ideas, but writings, treatises and arguments proofed against rebuttal while the proponents of Nationalism and Panslavism must struggle for the first time since their emergence from the political cauldron.” Odoyevsky grinned, his eyes lighting the dark room. He dipped his pen into the inkpot. “Then let us begin. What would you say is the primary issue with Nationalism?”

“It is divisive,” Alexander answered. “It splits people into ever-smaller groups which are pitted against each other. Only ago was it that the whole of Spain agitated against France, yet now the Catalans and Basques desire special rights and privileges as they find themselves a separate nation. A nation may be any group of people united by language, culture, land, economics, and psychology–by this meaning each town may, upon noticing the differences between the construction of their communion wafers and those of the neighboring town, decide to call themselves a separate nation and, by the logic of Nationalism, fight violently to not only separate but subjugate the other.”

“But why must they be pitted against each other?” Odoyevsky asked, his pen moving swiftly across the notebook.

“Because that is the logic of Nationalism. Nationalism claims not only that one’s nationality is different–that is mere observation–but that one’s nationality is special, intended for some greater destiny. The Panslavists claim that it is Slavic Destiny to reconquer Constantinople, yet the Greeks claim that is their destiny as well. The French nationalists believe it is the right of France and her people to be the Masters of Europe as they were under Napoleon, a claim contested by both British and German nationalists who think themselves the true bearers of that title. War is the inevitable conclusion of such conflicting claims.” Alexander put his pipe onto the table. “British Nationalists think Ireland theirs by right, while Irish Nationalists desire to free the island. It does not matter which is right, violence is the only course that follows so long as both exist. How many of the nations within our own empire would express similar opinions, were such thoughts to reach them?”

“Yet,” Alexander continued, “the rise of Nationalism is not inevitable. Like any weed it’s growth may be prevented by a skilled gardener. First, the weed present at the surface must be destroyed. With Nationalism this is not only the members of a revolt, but those who stand to benefit. This is not the common man, for they will see little change when one landlord is replaced by another, but rather the bourgeois and the local nobility. The bourgeoisie is enamored with nationalism as it allows them a new set of divisions. They use these divisions to divide the workers. They will draw lines between immigrant labor and native labor, between French labor and German labor, between skilled labor and unskilled labor. This allows for the Capitalist–that being the economic role of the bourgeoisie–to have his workers fight amongst themselves, and thus never know who is picking his pocket.”

“And the local nobility?”

“They do not truly benefit from Nationalism, but they believe that they do. They gain a cause to fight for, to rally around. It is the concepts of long-dead Kings and ancient Principalities that cause the local nobility to join the bourgeoisie, for they believe it is better to be the ruler of a square dyuym than to share a desyatina with another man.” Alexander paused. He needed to keep some of the nobles on his side. As many as he could win with warnings of the French Revolution, he could easily lose by being too radical too early. “In this the local nobility is utterly opposed to the Imperial Nobility, whom they view as outsiders and traitors.”

“What is the difference between the two? The local and the imperial?”

Alexander reached for his pipe. He took a deep draw, buying himself time to think. “The local nobility is like the szlachta before the 1830 Uprising,” Alexander said after a minute’s pause. “They do not seek Imperial jobs, titles, or favors. They do not work to improve their estates. They instead act in the exact same manner as their ancestors did unto the Ark, farming in the dirt without the benefit of tools or rotation. It is not a matter of high or low nobility, for there are plenty of both who fit either category. It is a matter of mindset. A poor nobleman who joins the army and serves with dedication in an Imperial Noble. He is infinitely more valuable than a Prince who never leaves his vast estate, preferring to hunt game, beat his serfs, and take ever-higher tolls to keep himself in luxury. Do you know why?”

“Because the first man cares for the Empire, and the second cares only for himself?”

“Precisely,” Alexander agreed. “It comes to the Collective Purpose, as all matters do. If one serves the Collective Purpose, they are good. If one harms it, they are bad.” He leaned back in his chair, taking another puff of the pipe. “Of course, one cannot defeat Nationalism with poison alone. One must replace it with something, and that something is admittance into the Collective.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nationalism declares that a single nation is unique and special, given divine purpose. To prevent such delusions they must be treated as any other, without special privileges or discriminations.”

Alexander saw realization dawn on Odoyevsky’s face. His hand clenched around his pen. “You would grant Catholics full admittance to the State?”

“They would need to be questioned, of course. Equal treatment does not mean foolishness. Anyone loyal to the Pope would be kept far from power.”

“Do not all Catholics swear him their allegiance?”

“Some, many from my understanding, view that as applying only to spiritual matters. As Christ said, ‘render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s.’ We do not heed the Holy Synod on matters of war or politics. Why should the heed Rome’s opinion on the same?”

“So it is only the most religious of the Catholics that you believe we need to fear?”

“Not fear,” Alexander corrected. “We do not need to have fear of our enemies, we simply need to end them, either by correction or liquidation.”

“How can the bourgeois be corrected?” Odoyevsky asked. “The local nobility I understand, for they can be made into Imperial Nobility. Likewise religious Catholics can be made into unreligious Catholics or religious Orthodox. But the bourgeois?”

Alexander tapped his pipe against the table. “When I find out,” he said, “I will let you know. Why do you think the yangban still labor on the canals?”