ISoTL Chapter Sixty (Patreon)

Alexander tapped his pipe, taking a slow breath as he waited. Before him, a neat man with a fine-combed beard sat in a plush chair, chewing on his lip as he muttered words into his mustache. Possessed of a heavy-set face, a thick nose, and arms too weak for fisticuffs, the man could nonetheless do serious damage to Alexander’s plans, if not his body.

“‘As discussed before, a key concept of Nationalism is that of destiny,’” Aksakov quoted. “Your Imperial Highness, do you mean to say that you do not believe the Russian people to have a special destiny?”

“Quite plainly, yes,” Alexander replied. “There is no such thing as destiny, merely the 

inevitable result of actions and forces.”

“Hmph.” Aksakov turned back to the manuscript.

Alexander smoked some more, and turned back to his own papers. There was a proposal for future expansion in the Pacific, detailing the importance of coaling stations. Acquisition of coaling rights in Spanish or Dutch ports would be necessary for further operations into the Pacific in the short term, with long term solutions (barring war with other European powers) being the conquest of Formosa and Pacific exploration and settlement. Western New Guinea was listed as a potential location, should they secure Formosa, as it was within the ideal refueling range. A number of other potential Pacific possessions were discussed, such as direct conquest of China (viewed as too much trouble), Hainan (too close to mainland China), Hawaii (ideal, but too far away for now), Hokkaido (good potential), the Ryukyu islands (ideal), and Kyushu (more resistance than Hokkaido).

Alexander thought the report was reasonably optimistic, though he planned to hold off on any conquests of Japan until the yangban had been delt with. He would need to treat the samurai similarly, and had no intention of dealing with two headache-inducing groups of prison labor at the same time.

Alexander turned to his next set of papers, detailing his children’s education. Alexandra was doing well in most of her lessons. Her reading and writing were at sufficient levels to learn of poetry and her knowledge of mathematics had advanced enough that Andreevna thought her ready for some basic lessons in the sciences. Her favorite lesson appeared to be dancing, which Alexander supposed was acceptable. Her etiquette was described as, “passable,” and her music skills noted as, “enthusiastic but unfortunate.”

Pyotr was a different story. Five years old and already four feet tall, Pyotr excelled in his military lessons. He delighted at horsemanship, showing a patience with his pony, Cabbage, that he lacked with both his lessons and himself. He enjoyed the exercises in the yard, both running and marching. His academics, however, were mixed. He had learned the basics of letters, but his handwriting remained atrocious and his attention wandered whenever the storybook did not interest him. At least he no longer ran away on such occasions. It seemed Gretsch had been correct after all.

Alexander wondered how his sister managed having so many children. Three was plenty, even with two of them in education. Maria had five, and showed no signs of slowing down her rate of production.

“Your Imperial Highness.”

Alexander looked up from the reports. “You have finished.”

“I have finished reading,” Aksakov replied. “I have only begun to consider. It is a bold thing you and Prince Odoyevsky have written, one that challenges far more of my ideas and preconceptions than I care to admit. I do have suggestions, comments, and questions, if you would hear them?”

“That is why you were brought here.”

“Thank you, your Imperial Highness.” Aksakov paused, collecting his thoughts. “You have clearly outlined the dangers of Nationalism. The weakness of Greece and its obsessions with the Megali Idea, the obsession of France and Germany with their dominance of Europe, but is it not the obsession that is dangerous, rather than the Nationalism itself?”

“Perhaps,” Alexander said. “Yet when the two go hand-in-hand so often, does it truly matter? If it is so–and I am not sure it is–then Nationalism is like the fangs of a snake and obsession their venom. If one can extract the obsession then one may be safely bitten, yet few would describe the practice as safe or pleasant.”

“Yet you freely admit that Nationalism is a powerful force,” Aksakov countered. “The entirety of Greece has been turned to a single project.”

“It has,” Alexander agreed, “but we do not need Nationalism to engender such collective action. A powerful, centralized government supported by the will of the people, one such as we have built in Eastern Siberia, can do so as well.”

“What purpose have your people turned to?”

“The purpose of self-improvement. Do you know how much farmland there was in Eastern Siberia when I arrived as governor, eleven years ago? Less than a million desyatina. By the end of the decade, there will be more than sixty million desyatina under plow. When I arrived there was not a single foundry, now we measure cast steel by the thousands of tons. There has been expansion as well–Manchuria and Korea–the building of a new army, a new navy, and the weapons factories and shipyards to support them. We have done this not through Nationalism, but through Collectivism, through the joining of nationalities–Jews, Poles, Russians, Manchus, Chinamen, Koreans, and more–into a single entity; the Collective. I would see that expand to the whole of the Empire.”

“Not Panslavism, but Panimperialism?”

“Why stop there?” Alexander asked, allowing a light smirk. “Panhumanism sounds just as good.”

Aksakov stared. He stood. He turned, reaching into his bag. Alexander tensed, his hand dropping to the pistol he kept at his side. But Aksakov pulled out only a bottle and two glass flutes. Placing the flutes on the table between them, Aksakov neatly opened the bottle with a pop and leisurely poured out the first glasses of champagne.

“To the Collective destiny of mankind,” Aksakov toasted. “And their leaders: the Romanovs.”

“To the Russian Empire and its people,” Alexander returned. “Forever the first among equals.”