Almonte, Tarapacá
February, 1888
Constantino Serrano limped as fast as he could, trying to regain control of what was - in his mind at least - complete chaos. He cursed Alejandro Puig and his borderline syndicalist ideas (and the fact that he and Dr. Mouchot had departed to France in search for talented engineers made him fume) for what was happening: the workers sitting quietly in their workplaces, firmly not working but otherwise calm. They were adhering to the General Strike summoned by the nitrate workers... but the workers were just as confused as Constantino. The Worker's Union simply didn't understand how to adhere to a strike in which other workers demanded what they took for granted: to be paid in coin, freedom of commerce, safety gear, ten hour shifts, a guaranteed clean beds in the company's housing or a stipend for rent outside, and food of decent quality. The conditions weren't luxurious by any means - barely a step above what a soldier would find in its barracks - but it allowed each worker to produce more and more consistently than the brutish regime that went on the Saltpeter pampas.
But worker solidarity was stronger than any loyalty to the company, and so they sat peacefully.
Constantino wasn't worried about lost revenue or damage to the company's property. They had had strikes before, and they would have them again. But not having any personnel available in the eve of a Government visit was, in his view, very inconvenient. He and the Union leader, a former Army Private, discussed for too long for an exception to the strike, to provide catering to the government comitive for a few hours. The negotiated deal was outrageous, but he could afford it.
And so, the arrival of Eusebio Lillo, Interior Minister for President Balmaceda, went with relatively minor difficulties. A few hothead workers shouted at him, but were quickly taken away by their fellows with more sense. Constantino had bought himself a few hours of normalcy in the evening.
- Mister Minister, I hope your trip was pleasant. We are honoured to have you here. - Constantino greeted, as they sat on a table placed in front of the assembly yard.
- Thank you, although I regret to tell you that this whole trip hasn't been a pleasant experience at all. Congress is sharpening its knives against Balmaceda, ready to throw the President at the wolves if anything goes wrong like it did five years ago. The Royal Navy has placed ships in Antofagasta and Iquique, to "monitor" the movements of the Army. And the strikers have taken advantage of that. The city's effectively under their control.
- That's a shame. And to happen just as the English were preparing to leave.
- A shame, yes. And one that's partially your fault. - Lillo said, matter-of-factly.
- What? How can I be responsible for a general strike? We have good relations with our workforce, we haven't given them any reason to protest, let alone set a province-wide strike.
- That's precisely the reason why: the Franco-Chilena has proved that a company can be profitable despite treating people like, well... people. And the nitrate workers want that same treatment.
- Well, the success of our business is based on our workers. They have become skilled labourers and are compensated as such. Providing them with adequate shelter and wages isn't done out of charity, but out of business necessity: our workers produce more that way.
- I am aware of this. In more civilized parts of the world, your policies wouldn't even be notable. But, alas, Chile has been a country of levies since we conquered this land. Workers are as repleacable as the tools they operate.
- Am I to understand that my company's policies should change?
Eusebio Lillo looked perplexed, before realizing what he had implied.
- Oh, no. Not at all. That wasn't what I was implying at all, and I apologize if it came out that way. The Franco-Chilena has found a way to do business that it suits itself, and it is not the Government's role to intervene. I was just providing context of the wider visit. You'll understand that this meeting was a visit of opportunity as we wait for an answer between the parts.
- And how are the negotiations going? - asked Constantino
- Well, it isn't looking good for the producers of Nitrate. The workers have realized just how unfairly they've been treated and are demanding changes.
- And what does La Moneda think?
- President Balmaceda is only concerned with the continuation of order, and the prevention of another TSC-style incident. The situation is been closely monitored by the European powers, who have their own stake on it.
"
Damn you Alejandro, you're about to start a war!" Constantino thought.
- And how does this relate to our company? - Constantino asked, trying to bring the conversation back to his depth.
- Well, it doesn't. Not directly at least. With our rights over nitrate now a legal fiction, the Chilean State is deep in debt and in need of another source of income. We think we've found one in the form of copper and other minerals, but those would require much more infrastructure and, of course, energy. - Eusebio Lillo said. - And we've heard that a certain frenchman has figured out a way to turn sunlight into energy, for free... the Franco Chilena has been experimenting on melting metals with sunlight, right?
- Yes, our devices can reach those temperatures. The devices are experimental at this stage, though. They are far from the polished heaters we sell to the public.
- Could it be scaled? Ramping up the power output to melt several tons per day?
- Yes. As long as the sun shines, of course.
- Very well. - Eusebio Lillo said, indicating that the conversation was coming to an end. - We will need an official report about the capacities, limits and costs of these devices. If, if, these devices can reach the desired output, we might set things right this time. I hope you understand the responsibility that brings.
- Indeed, I do.
Grenoble, France
March, 1888
- That irresponsible fool! Did he realize that he was vastly overselling the capacities of our machines? We can't reach a tenth of the capacity he claimed, to the Government no less! - Mouchot was fuming as he read the copy of the letter Constantino sent to Eusebio Lillo, which detailed the calculations used to justify the factibility of the project. - Worse still, the calculations are wrong by a factor of three! Does he really think we can build a 75-meter diameter solar concentrator in the middle of the desert?! And how are we going to move it, callibrate it and do the suntracking?
- Constantino is not a stupid man, Docteur. He might not be as knowledgeable as you, but he is a sensible and cautious man. - Alejandro Puig answered.
- But I am the expert in this subject, and I can tell you right now that such structure would easily surpass the first level of that eyesore Eiffel is building in Paris. Where are we going to find so much material? How are we going to fund it?
- Augustin, - Alejandro rarely used his first name.- you of all people should know the advances we've made since our collaboration started. The unexpected directions of research, the unrelated discoveries, and the new techniques we've developed. Maybe Constantino was overconfident, but I am sure his reasoning is sound. If anything, this makes our current task all the more important. Let us think things through before becoming enraged.
Alejandro saw as Mouchot's eyes started to look inwards. Whenever Mouchot needed to think, he reverted to that absent stare for a fee seconds before returning to normal.
- Very well. We'll cross that bridge when we arrive there. For now, we should add one or two structural engineers to our list. Let's go back to work.
Although it is easy to simplify the dawn of solar energy generation as a pump of inventions and ideas emerging from a vaccuum, this period cannot be fully understood without the human stories that took place in it. It was, first and foremost, a time of struggle: Workers against Capitalists, Progressives versus Conservatives, Empires against Republics, Business against the State. Alejandro Puig played a crucial - albeit unknowing- part in the first one. He was a man who despised exploitation in all its forms, someone who never stopped identified with the working mass from which he emerged. The conditions he demanded for the workers were initially resisted by his colleagues, but he shortcutted them by pocketing the expenses from his own wage in the company. And, as it turned out, his desire to provide decent conditions became one of the key assets during the early years of the company. Workers were more productive, had lower absentee and resignation rates, and provided a better return on investment that their peers in Nitrate extraction sites.
As news about the conditions that the Franco-Chilena provided spread through the province, workers became aware about their own squalid existence. This awareness brought resentment and, inevitably, anger against the owners who extracted every drop of labour of their workers before disposing of them. The General Strike of 1888 was the culmination of that anger, an anger that was cleverly manipulated by sincere strikers and opportunists alike. The Chilean Navy was defanged, and the Army was unwilling to cause a similar incident like the one that ended in the "coastal occupation" of Chile's ports. The Royal Navy also made its presence known, but the sight of a few hundred British citizens in the mass, along dozens of Germans, French and American strikers made them cautious. The Chilean Government, knowing the situation to be a potential powderkeg, urged Saltpeter companies to negotiate with the workers, but otherwise didn't support either side.