English Canada/French Carolina: A Timeline

[Gabingston]

Nice chapter on Brazil, things are certainly much better than OTL. Hope you update your Nordic TL soon. Keep up the good work.

Honestly I think this TL is turning out a bit too optimistic in its outlook. It's very easy for someone writing a TL to make it their personal utopia (or at least significantly better in their view than OTL), so once I do a Maps & Graphics TL I might make things a bit messier, not just in Brazil but globally. As for the Nordic TL, a new update will be out sooner or later, but it may take a bit of time.

 

[A Random Man]

Honestly I think this TL is turning out a bit too optimistic in its outlook.

I mean, you didn't have the French/American Revolution happen ITTL, those things had massive effects on world history.

once I do a Maps & Graphics TL I might make things a bit messier

Can't wait for those maps 👍👍👍👍👍

 

[Gabingston]

I've begun the process of creating a modern-day world map for EC/FC in Paint.Net. There will be a few alterations to the political map, but it'll keep the core of EC/FC intact. Also, it'll use Q-Bam instead of HOI4 as the base map. I've still got to figure a few things out with Paint.Net, but I hope it'll turn out well enough to be usable in a Maps & Graphics setting.

 

[Gabingston]

Hey guys. I have officially decided to retcon Part 39 of this timeline, the one where Denmark and Sweden colonize New Zealand. New Zealand will instead be colonized by the Germans (Prussians specifically, but later becoming a condominium of Prussia and Austro-Bavaria). That altered plotline will be what update 139 (total coincidence that it's exactly 100 updates later) will be about. Hope this change doesn't bother you guys too much.

 

[Gabingston]

Part 139: Neuseeland 1/2​

Before I begin this update, I must make an important statement: this update is a retcon. Originally in the TL New Zealand was colonized by the Danes on the North Island and the Swedes on the South Island. I wasn’t quite satisfied with that, though, and had planned on changing New Zealand to be a German colony in the Maps & Graphics TL, which is why I haven’t really brought the Nordic New Zealand colonies back in any subsequent update. I was going to have to make a decision at this point, because my next update was going to be a broad overview of Australasia, which would include New Zealand. Would I continue with the Nordic New Zealand for the sake of this timeline and alter it in the Maps & Graphics, or would I retcon it and rewrite the script to make New Zealand German?
I wound up choosing the latter, and thus this update will be about the altered alternate history of New Zealand, one where it is colonized by the Germans. Don’t get too bummed out if you liked the Nordic New Zealand, though, as New Zealand will become a Nordic colony in my other TL once I get there, probably in three or four years, considering how much time there is between the present in that TL and the Early-Mid 19th Century when New Zealand would be colonized. I hope my explanation of the situation has sufficed, because I think it’s about time that I begin the update. Thus, without further ado, here we go.
The islands of New Zealand were the last major landmass to be settled by human beings, first being discovered and colonized by the Polynesians in the Middle Ages. These Polynesian settlers evolved into the Maori, who were composed of many different clans and tribes and numbered about 150,000. The first European to discover New Zealand was Dutch explorer Abel Tasman, who found the islands in 1642 and named them Staten Landt, which would later be altered to Nieuw Zeeland, for the Dutch province of Zeeland. Due to skirmishes with the aforementioned Maori and the sheer distance from Europe (literally on the exact opposite side of the world), the next European explorer to visit would be from British explorer James Cook in 1769 (nice), followed soon thereafter by Frenchman Jean-François de Surville, the little time between the two voyages showing an increased European interest in the South Seas.
The increasing European interest and exploration of the area led to trade and contact between Europeans and Maori. Sailors came from Britain, France and America to fish, whale and seal, Christian missionaries arrived to preach the gospel and traders from both groups exchanged goods and services. Most notable of these was the Maori purchase of firearms from European traders, which they’d then use to conquer and subdue other tribes that didn’t possess such weapons. These wars are estimated to have killed up to 40,000 Maori, or over 1/4 of the population of New Zealand, with thousands more displaced or taken into slavery. The disruptions coming from the wars would ultimately pave the way for the colonization of the islands by an outside European power. The British, French and Dutch seemed like the top candidates, as they were the three European nations that had contacted and explored New Zealand the most, but ultimately the ones to take it for their own wouldn’t be any of them, but a country mostly new to the colonial game…
Due to their geographic position further away from the Atlantic and preoccupations back home, the nation of Prussia hadn’t really had overseas colonies. Sure, they’d had a fort or two in Africa and had attempted to purchase Caribbean islands in the past, but those attempts ultimately didn’t last. Things were different by the 1830s, though, as the Prussian government began to seek the establishment of an overseas colony. The Americas were pretty much taken, the one exception being Patagonia (which would soon be colonized by the British), Africa wasn’t really suitable for settlement outside of the south, which was already claimed and Australia was either already being colonized by other Europeans or a wasteland. Then there was New Zealand, the temperate archipelago on the exact opposite end of the world from Europe that hadn’t been colonized by any outside power. The Prussian King himself (unnamed, as this would be an ATL figure) had become interested in expanding Prussia’s reach beyond Europe, and enlisted the Prussian navy to explore the Pacific, which he saw as a region where Prussia could easily establish a foothold, since the European presence there was just starting. One of Prussia’s top admirals (also an unnamed ATL figure) conducted a voyage of exploration between 1828 and 1829, sailing from Hamburg to Kaapstad in Dutch South Africa and then using the strong currents of the Roaring Forties to reach the Antipodes. Upon reaching New Zealand, he and his crew voyaged throughout the islands, mapping as much of it as they could and establishing contact with the native Maori. The admiral gave the name New Saxony (Neusachsen) to the North Island and New Prussia (Neupreußen) to the South Island and reported that the islands were pleasant in climate and bountiful in resources. From New Zealand his expedition swung north to New Caledonia (which would become a German colony in the future, as I’ve already talked about in a previous update) and onto the numerous islands and atolls dotting the South Pacific. Once Polynesia had been traversed, they sailed onto the southern reaches of South America, rounded Cape Horn and returned to Europe. The King was very pleased by the results of this expedition, and ordered the creation of the Prussian South Seas Company (Preußische Südseegesellschaft). This company/charter would be responsible for increasing the influence and reach of Prussia in the South Pacific, trading with the natives and establishing Prussian settlements in the region. More voyages to the South Pacific were conducted in the early-mid 1830s, with more trade being conducted with the Maori and areas being scouted out for potential settlements in New Zealand. Areas on both shores of the Cook Strait were appealing locations, as were others like a thin isthmus on the northern end of New Saxony and a large, hilly peninsula with numerous inlets on New Prussia. German missionaries, both Protestant and Catholic, also began to make their way to New Zealand, joining others who’d already come to preach the gospel. In 1835, the king officially ordered the establishment of colonies in New Zealand, specifically around the Cook Strait. A fleet consisting of around 200 colonists, both free settlers and convicts, mostly petty thieves and debtors, dozens of crew members and supplies like food, seeds, fresh water and livestock departed from the port of Hamburg (which would become the main port of call for voyages headed to the Prussian colonies) on April 12th, 1836, bound for the other end of the world.
The voyage would be a long and arduous one, expected to take half a year based on previous expeditions, much of it spent sailing through the rough waters of the Antarctic Current, so the crew consisted of some of Prussia’s best and most experienced sailors, some of whom had been on previous expeditions to Neuseeland. A route to the Antipodes had been long established by this point, which would be what the fleet used. They’d sail through the North Sea and English Channel before turning southwest toward the Canary Current. There began the long journey south to the Cape of Good Hope. After weeks and weeks traversing the vast Atlantic Ocean, the fleet finally reached Kaapstad at the tail end of June, with the crew and settlers disembarking briefly to resupply and recuperate from the over two months on the high seas. After resupplying and getting some fresh air, the fleet resumed their voyage, heading south to catch the aforementioned Antarctic Current, which would take them right to Neuseeland. This part of the voyage wouldn’t be easy, however, as the seas on the current were among the roughest in the world, and that’s not to mention the ever-present threat of icebergs. Despite the risks, this was the route that would get them there the fastest, and thus it’d be the one they’d take. Thus, the next month and a half would be spent navigating the rough waters of the Antarctic Sea, traveling nearly halfway around the world in the process. Several of the colonists perished along the way, which would be a great loss for the crew and passengers, who’d become quite tight knit due to spending months together, but alas, they had no choice but to press on.
The light at the end of the tunnel was coming, though, as by mid August the west coast of New Prussia became visible. This was near the southwest corner of the island, which was rugged and carved into numerous fjords, so after a brief landing to catch some fresh air they’d turn north and traverse the west coast of New Prussia. A few hundred miles later and the coast opened up into a large body of water, which they presumed to be the entrance to the Cook Strait. They’d hug the south shore, as the north wasn’t visible at this point. The coast opened up into a large bay, one that both provided shelter from the rough winds and waves of the strait and could hold a good site for a settlement. As it turns out, that was just the case, as the head of the bay had a decent harbor and a good amount of land for settlement. The crew and colonists were tired of the sea, and while this wasn’t the best location, it was good enough to become the first Prussian colony in Neuseeland. Thus, on August 30th, 1836, the settlement of Königsbucht was founded, and German Neuseeland was born.
I was originally going to make this one update, but as it kept getting longer and longer I decided to split it up into two. The second update should be out within the next week, as colonization is a subject I’m very interested in (as you guys should know by now). After that update, I will do an overview of the four countries comprising the territory of OTL’s Australia. Thus, part one of my New Zealand retcon has reached its conclusion, but rest assured that I will be back soon.

 

[Gabingston]

Part 140: Neuseeland 2/2​

In this part we resume the story of German Neuseeland, going from the founding of Königsbucht up until the middle of the 20th Century. After the foundation of Königsbucht, the settlers went about gathering their bearings, with some going out and surveying, some beginning to build basic infrastructure like a townsite and dock and others put to work clearing the land and farming. The settlement had the sea to the north and mountains immediately to the east, but the south and west had some flat land that could work for agriculture. The crew negotiated with the local Maori about purchasing the surrounding land, though the differing concepts of land usage and ownership between the two caused some trouble. After the negotiations with the Maori were done, the shipping crew departed to head back to Prussia, a voyage that would take months to complete. Before they even returned, though, a second party had been sent out to establish another settlement. They would arrive in the spring of 1837, settling on the north side of the Cook Strait at Prinzenshafen. Further colonies would be founded across the islands at Zwillingshäfen, Großebucht, Parirua and Neu-Danzig over the next decade. Due to the vast distance, it would be tough to get people to move to the Neuseeland colony rather than going to somewhere closer like America or even South Africa. The Prussian government and the Prussian South Seas Company from the last update would thus pull two pages out of the British playbook. First, they’d send convicts who’d committed low-level crimes (mainly petty theft and failure to pay off debts) to the colony, where they’d work for the South Seas Company as indentured servants for several years before gaining freedom, being allowed to either stay in Neuseeland as a free colonist or return to Prussia. Due to the vast distance, most convicts who’d finished their sentences would stay in the colony permanently, many going on to become prosperous in this far off land. The second was for the Prussian government to pay for the voyage of settlers to Neuseeland, so that it’d be worth going there rather than the aforementioned closer destinations. With the surge in German emigration during the mid 19th Century, even a small fraction of German emigrants going to Neuseeland would equal thousands of new settlers per year. As anyone who left through a Prussian port (mainly Hamburg, but also Danzig, Konigsberg, Bremen, Lubeck and Rostock) would get cheap passage to Neuseeland and word of the opportunities found in the colony spread, the rate of immigration to Neuseeland reached 10,000 per year by 1860, just two decades after the colony’s foundation. While this was a very significant amount of migration for such a new colony, it would only turn out to be the prelude to something much larger.
That something would begin when gold was discovered in the interior of New Prussia in the 1860s, sparking a massive gold rush. Tens of thousands of prospectors rushed to the island in order to strike it rich, coming mainly from Europe and other parts of Australasia. While a lot of them left after the gold dried up (particularly those from other Australasian colonies), many stuck around and moved on to different endeavors. More importantly, though, the gold rush raised the awareness of Neuseeland as a viable destination for settlement, leading to increased interest in the colony among prospective emigrants in Central Europe, of which there were a lot. Between that and the increasing speed and size of ocean-going ships, immigration to Neuseeland surged in the late 19th Century.
In 1860 the European population of Neuseeland stood at 75,000, by 1870 it’d gone up to 230,000. That further increased to 510,000 in 1880, 920,000 in 1890 and 1.35 Million in 1900. When combined with the now rebounding Maori population and the growing number of mixed race people, the total population numbered about 1.45 million. New settlements had sprung up across both islands, such as Neu-Kolberg, Hauptkirche, Walbucht, Strandberg, Südberg and Timaru, among others, along with original settlements growing further into true cities. About 60% of the European population was Prussian, with the rest split pretty evenly between other Germans and non-Germans, mainly Slavs, Scandinavians, Hungarians and Jews. Prinzenshafen had become the largest city with a population of 160,000, though its growth potential was limited by the rough topography of the area. Königsbucht placed in second with a population of 90,000, having fallen behind Prinzenshafen due to not having as good of a natural harbor. Zwillingshäfen was the third largest city at 65,000 people, though it had more room to grow than the top two, while a few other cities had populations above 10,000. Other cities and towns like Breitmund, Elbe, Flachsbach, Titirangi, Hummerbucht and Fakatane had emerged in the late 19th Century as well, some having populations in the thousands by 1900. Outside of urban areas, Neuseeland had become a major agricultural exporter, particularly of wool, to the point where the colony had more sheep than people. The combined size of New Saxony and New Prussia was larger than that of Great Britain, and with the exception of the areas reserved for the Maori (more on that later), it had been pretty much fully settled by Central Europeans within a span of just a little over half a century. Apart from settlement, Neuseeland had gained a bit of a reputation as a far off, exotic destination for adventurers and wealthy tourists. Towns like Taupo, Neu-Konstanz and Königinstadt had already seen resorts spring up around them, with visitors both domestic and foreign coming for the mountain peaks, crystal clear lakes, lush Antarctic forests and geothermal springs. I could talk more about that stuff, but I’ve got other things to get to, such as the original inhabitants of the islands.
As mentioned in the previous update, the Maori had gotten into a nasty set of inter-tribal wars during the early 19th Century, estimated to have killed over a quarter of the Maori population. More importantly, though, the upheaval due to the wars was a big part of what made New Zealand a target for colonization by the Prussians. By 1860 there were already as many Germans in the archipelago as Maori and by 1870 the Germans outnumbered the Maori significantly, especially in New Prussia, where the Maori population was quite small. The Maori were relegated to various reservations throughout the islands (mostly in the north), and even then if there were disputes between German settlers and the Maori, the colonial authorities would almost always side with the former. The colonial government also required that all schooling be done in German, rather than in Maori, which hindered the ability of many Maori to get education (though this also did apply to non-German Europeans). While the Maori weren’t screwed over to the same degree as, say, the Aboriginals in neighboring Terra Australis or the nomadic tribes in North America, it was still quite a raw deal for them. In spite of this, the Maori population began to recover in the late 19th Century, standing at about 75,000 in 1900, with another 25,000 of mixed Maori-European ancestry. Maori culture wasn’t going to go away, either, as aspects of Maori culture like the Haka made their way into general Neuseeland culture. The same went for the Maori language, as while it may not have been taught in school (and one could be punished for speaking it in school, as was the policy in many places IOTL regarding Indigenous or regional languages), many still spoke it at home or even in some formal settings like Church services (the Maori by this point had been largely Christianized, mostly becoming Protestant but with some Catholics as well). While the Maori may have been sidelined within their own homeland, they were still a proud people intent on keeping their identity.
Moving on to other matters, the first half of the 20th Century was a continuation of the rapid population growth seen in the late 19th. The population grew from 1.45 Million in 1900 to 2.045 in 1910, slowing down during the 1910s due to the Second Global War, as immigration fell off during the war and 20,000 Neuseelanders died fighting in the conflict. Even then, the population grew to 2.55 Million by 1920. Population growth picked up again in the 20s, going up to 3.35 Million by 1930. The economic difficulties of the 1930s put a damper on immigration and birth rates, and thus it only grew to 3.8 Million by 1940. With the economy recovering by the 1940s, though, and thus population growth picked up, with the population in 1950 sitting at 4.52 Million. By this point, the majority of Neuseelanders were born in Neuseeland, though immigrants still made up a large share of the population. Prinzenshafen was still the largest city, having grown to 600,000 people by 1950. Its urban area had fully combined with that of Parirua, as well as extending up the large river valley on the north end of the bay. The city had garnered the nickname of “Triest an der Pazifische”, or “Trieste on the Pacific” due to the similar bayside location and hilly topography of both cities. Zwillingshäfen surged up to second place with 300,000, with Königsbucht falling to third at 250,000. The Maori population grew to 200,000 by 1950, while the Mixed-Race population skyrocketed to 225,000, due to the high intermarriage rate between Maori and Whites. The population ratio of New Saxony and New Prussia stood at about 3:2, due to the North having more Maori, more arable land and the two largest cities.
At this point, it’s probably worth talking about the political status of Neuseeland. In 1900, Neuseeland remained a colony of Prussia, though many non-Prussian Germans and Europeans had moved there (about 1/5th of the White population being non-German, the largest of those being Poles). With a rapidly growing population and a vast distance from Europe, Neuseeland was bound to gain independence at some point, albeit with strong ties to Prussia. Talks were already underway for independence upon the outbreak of the Second Global War in 1911, and when the war ended in 1916, independence for Neuseeland was pretty much an inevitability. After the Treaty of Zurich was inked in May of 1916, the Prussian government and Neuseeland colonial administration immediately got to work on the terms of independence. Neuseeland would become a Constitutional Monarchy with the Prussian king as a figurehead. The real power would lie with the newly formed Reichstag of Neuseeland, headed by the Chancellor. Prinzenshafen, already the largest city and seat of colonial governance, would become the capital city of the new country. Neuseeland would also take over administration of the Prussian colonies in the Pacific, as they were much easier to administer from Neuseeland than from Europe. The flag would combine the black, white and red colors that had come to represent the Germans with the Southern Cross that many countries in the Southern Hemisphere used on their flags. The independence treaty would take a bit of time to draft, but by the end of 1916 it was fully ready. Thus, on the 1st of February in the year of our Lord 1917, the Kingdom of Neuseeland would officially become an independent country.
And with that, the big New Zealand retcon is officially complete. I’ll get to work on the Australian update soon, as well as resuming work on UOTTC, but I just needed to get this out of the way. If you guys are disappointed with the retcon of the Nordic New Zealand (and the newly decided retcon giving the Andaman and Nicobar Islands to the Germans, which I decided to do but didn't write about here), just know that New Zealand will be a Nordic colony in UOTTC once we get there. I’ll get my next update in one of those TL’s out by the end of the month for sure, but until then, have a good February and a happy Valentine’s Day.

 

[Gabingston]

Flag of Neuseeland (link here)

 

[Gabingston]

Okay, change of plans. I just remembered that Part 117 was on Australia, which is recent enough to where I'll put it off for a bit longer. I think my next part will instead be on France and their sphere of influence in Europe.

 

[Gabingston]

Part 141: French Recovery​

The 1910s and early 1920s hadn’t been good to France. First, the Second Global War had been catastrophic, losing millions of men and getting nothing in return. Next, the economies crumbled in the years after the war, with inflation rampant, reparations payments to the victors crushing and good jobs scarce. This led to mass civil unrest, with Paris being occupied by rebels in 1922 and other cities seeing massive strikes, protests and riots. That’s not even to mention the loss of key territories like Alsace-Lorraine and Wallonia. It appeared as though France was facing the abyss, their glory days long behind and only a bleak future of decline and destitution ahead.
They were determined to avoid that fate, though. King François of France, though old in age (54 as of his ascension to the throne in 1921), had plans to bring France into recovery. After gaining the faith of the public by successfully repressing the 1922 revolt, François went about working on stabilizing his country. While a conservative and religious man, François was also a pragmatic figure due to his decades involved in politics as Dauphin, and was willing to work across the aisle with the Liberals or even the few Radicals that were present in the Estates General.
First, François would have to deal with France’s faltering economy. Between the massive destruction in the country’s north, the loss of key territories and the hefty war reparations put on by the victors, France’s economy was in the toilet during the half decade after the war. It was going to be a long, long road to recovery, but it was one that the French would have to take on. With Wallonia gone, French industry wasn’t going to return to where it was before the war, but France still had some industrial areas like Saint-Étienne, Picardy and the Loire Valley (the first two being OTL, the latter being due to Floridian cotton). Saint-Étienne and the Loire were still intact, while Picardy had been devastated by the war. Thus, a large economic priority for France was the rebuilding of Picardy’s industrial sector, which had been intentionally destroyed by the advance of German and Anglo-American troops in the region. The rebuilding began shortly after the war, and while there were hiccups along the way, Picardy’s industry was largely back online by the latter half of the 1920s. On a different note, with the Anglo-French rapprochement after the war, the French would attempt to renegotiate the war reparations payments they owed to the British and Americans. The French weren’t negotiating from a position of strength, so they knew they’d have to give some sort of concession to the Anglos, but it’d likely be worth it in order to significantly reduce the amount of war debt they had. After some back and forth, the French agreed to open their ports to Anglo-American ships in return for the cancellation of war reparations. While many in the French government (and public for that matter) were salty about giving the Anglos fleet-basing rights, they recognized the economic benefits of canceling war reparations that would take years to pay off. Thus, the French would get more economic breathing room, though they still had to pay reparations to the Germans. By 1926 the French economy had been mostly stabilized, and while things certainly weren’t great, their straits weren’t as dire as they’d been a few years prior.
Next was the cultural and political upheaval that came from France’s defeat in the war. After such a devastating and costly war, it’s no surprise that France was in for some rough times once it was all said and done, especially since they’d been humiliated. The late 1910s and early 1920s were extremely turbulent in France, as I’ve mentioned in a previous update on post-war France. This climaxed with the Paris Revolt in the summer of 1922, in which strikers-turned-rebels captured much of the city. While it was ultimately put down, tensions continued to simmer throughout the 1920s. Political extremism on both the radical Left and the revanchist Right thrived in 1920s France, and clashes between the two extremes continued to occur. The decade after the war saw both a growth in religiosity as people turned to the Church for support in the rough times and secularism as disenchantment with the establishment set in, the Church very much included. This led to a growing cultural clash between the religious, who made up a large share of the French population (particularly in the countryside) and secularists, who while a small fraction of the population punched well above their weight in terms of academics and culture (though not as large as IOTL due to the lack of the secularist French Revolution). Republicanism surged in popularity in the years after the war, and while a lot of prominent Republicans fled after the Paris Revolt was quashed, a good number remained in France campaigning for their cause. Even with the sizable Republican movement, the majority of Frenchmen still supported the Monarchy, especially after things began to improve in the mid 1920s.
This improvement wouldn’t last too long, though, as the global economy crashed in the fall of 1928. While in Britain and America it marked the end of a golden age, in France it was a return to the desperation of the years following the war. A lot of the problems from the immediate postwar period reappeared during the economic crisis, and once again France was on the brink. This economic crisis which would become known as the Great Panic would last well into the 1930s globally, and when combined with the postwar depression in France, the period between the end of the war in 1916 and 1935 would become known in France as Les Vingts Misérables, or The Miserable Twenty.
Fortunately for the French, things would begin to improve in the latter half of the 1930s. After nearly two decades of revolving door governments, stability would be achieved under the Chief Ministership of army officer turned politician Jean-Paul Le Tellier, who was able to negotiate with the disparate political factions in France and formulate a program to set the country in the right direction. For example, Le Tellier would begin the building of France’s welfare state, a major goal of France’s economic left, while also getting the support of the Church and social conservatives by ensuring the Church’s role in said welfare system, to the disappointment of the secularists. Le Tellier also worked to pursue a middle path in the economic sphere, supporting industrial and business growth and expansion while also ensuring that workers could strike and negotiate, among other things. By 1940 France’s standard of living had fully recovered to pre-war levels and economic growth continued throughout the 1940s. By 1950, the living standards in France had come to approach those in the victorious German States and Britain, and resentment towards said countries began to fade (though they didn’t totally disappear). France’s birth rate, which had slumped mightily during the Miserable Twenty, rebounded beginning in the late 1930s, though it wouldn’t go back to prewar levels (in large part because France was more urban in 1940 than it had been in 1910). King François passed away in July of 1942 at the age of 76, succeeded by his 48 year old son Louis, and while France wasn’t the dominant power in Europe like it had been in ages past, it was in a better spot at his death than it was when he ascended to the throne.
As has been the case in other updates in this TL, this was supposed to be one long update, but has grown enough to where I think it’d be better suited split into two. While this update has been on France proper, the next one will be on the rest of Latin Europe, much of which is tied to France through the Latin Bloc. That update should be out in early March. I’ll also continue to work on the French update for UOTTC, though that might take a while, considering my lack of knowledge regarding the French Wars of Religion and 16th Century European dynastic politics. Either way, I hope you had a happy Valentine’s Day, and I wish you guys well as we get towards the end of winter. For now, though, I must sign off.

 

[Gabingston]

Part 141: Iberia After The War​

Now that I’ve talked about France, I think it’d be a good time to talk about the rest of Latin Europe, specifically the Iberian and Italian peninsulas. Once the home of some of history’s most powerful and influential empires (the Spanish and Portuguese for Iberia and the Romans for Italy), the states of Iberia and Italy had now been relegated to playing second fiddle (though the Spanish and Portuguese still did have a lot of influence overseas). Both Italy and Iberia had been involved in the Second Global War from 1911-1916, with the war’s start in fact involving an Italian state. Spain, Cisalpina and Naples fought on the side of the Franco-Russian alliance, Venice fought on the side of the Germans, British and Ottomans, while Portugal and the Papal State remained neutral. The German-British-Ottoman alliance wound up triumphing over the French and Russians, with Russia descending into civil war and France into economic and political troubles. I’ll start in Iberia in this update before hopping across the Western Mediterranean to Italy in the next. So, without further ado, ¡vamonos!
After participating in the First Global War, the Portuguese (and thus Brazil and the Luso-Brazilian colonies) sat out the Second Global War, finding the potential upside not worth the prospect of fighting their only, much larger neighbor yet again. The Portuguese kept their heads down while the rest of Europe destroyed itself once again, with Spanish deserters and defectors fleeing in large numbers across the often porous border, many going further on to Brazil in order to escape potential capture and punishment. After the end of the war, Portugal was in a better spot than most of Latin Europe, but only by default, as it was still by and large a poor and agrarian country with a massive amount of emigration to its colony-turned-master Brazil. Even in the early 20th Century the majority of the population was illiterate and rural, and outside of Lisbon and Porto life for the average Portuguese person wasn’t that much different from what it’d been in centuries prior. Things would begin to change during the war, though, as while Portugal was neutral, it was still affected by it. For example, Lisbon and Porto were now two of the only safe ports in Western Europe, accessible by both sides of the war as well as by shipping from other neutrals. While there were obvious disruptions from having most of the continent (including their only neighbor) at war, the increased shipping traffic coming into Portugal was in some ways beneficial to the Portuguese economy. Namely, the influx of capital during the war prompted the creation of a domestic industrial base afterwards. Meanwhile, rural Portuguese heard of the opportunities found in the cities, and more began to leave the land and get urban jobs. This was a process that would take decades, but when combined with advances in technology that would make industrialization in Southern Europe more viable (more on that later), Portugal was beginning to shed its status as a backwater and become a modern nation.
Moving across the centuries-old border, we find ourselves in Spain. As mentioned in the intro, by the time we got to the 20th Century, Spain’s heyday was well in the rearview mirror. Far from the 800 pound gorilla it’d been in the 16th Century, Spain was now at best a secondary power in Europe, though it still held significant sway in the Americas through its dominions. The Second Global War only proved how past its prime Spain was, as Spanish troops didn’t perform too well when compared to their British or (especially) Prussian opponents on the Western Front. This was in large part because Spain lagged behind their more northerly opponents and even their French allies in technological and industrial matters. The only real industrial centers in Spain were in the far north in Catalonia and the Basque Country, both of which also happened to be regions primarily inhabited by ethnic minorities (more on that later), while most of the country was still rural and underdeveloped. As in Portugal, a majority of Spaniards were still illiterate heading into the 20th Century and there was still mass emigration to the now more populous American colonies. Hundreds of thousands of Spanish (and Spanish American) men died in the war, and their bloodshed was all for not, as Spain was on the losing side of the conflict. While Spanish territory in Europe was intact, the Commonwealth of America occupied New Spain after the war, along with Spain losing colonies in Africa. The Spanish economy was in tatters after the war, and civil unrest soared. Nationalism in the ethnic minority regions like the Basque Country and Catalonia (which, as mentioned earlier, contained most of Spain’s industry) surged, with separatist groups ballooning in size from where they were before the war. What little industry Spain had at this time was often crippled by strikes and labor disputes, as struggling workers demanded better pay and conditions, all while the industrialists were often struggling themselves. Political radicalism grew across Spain, particularly in the cities, where the disaffected masses were drawn towards radical politics on both ends of the spectrum. Pro-independence demonstrations in the Basque Country and Catalonia were commonplace, sometimes turning violent as authorities and demonstrators clashed. For example, Tarragona was occupied by separatist for three weeks in 1923, as demonstrations had gone south and turned into a flat-out rebellion, one which had to be put down by the Spanish military. Luckily for the Spanish, the rebellion didn’t spread and this would be the peak of ethnic separatism in Spain. Concerned by the rebellion, the Spanish king who I’m not gonna bother to name decided that some sort of compromise with the separatists was needed to keep the country together. Spain had many historical regions, but they hadn’t really been subject to any sort of internal treaty in a long time, despite several proposals throughout the years. Thus, after this scare, the king would call a convention to come up with a new map for Spain’s internal divisions. Having several large ethnic minorities meant that a unitary state wasn’t the best solution. After all, many identified more with their historic region than with Spain as a whole. Luckily, there was an existing model, and it wasn’t too far away. Over the past century and a half, neighboring France had evolved into a federal monarchy, with the traditional French provinces being maintained into the modern era, with some small changes here and there. This seemed to be an appropriate model for Spain to adopt, as it balanced national unity with local autonomy. Thus, in 1926, a new regional division in Spain was adopted, with the country being split up into 16 different Provinces, each with their own Provincial Capital. Notably, the Provinces were given the right to have multiple official languages alongside Spanish, which was soon done by non-Castilian speaking provinces like Catalonia, Navarre, Vasconia and Galicia. The nationalist appetite within parts of Spain seemed to be satiated, at least for the time being, and Spain’s political separatism seemed to be going into the rearview mirror by the end of the 1920s.
Spain still had other issues, though, notably their economy. I mentioned earlier that Spain was an economic backwater when compared with their Western European peers, with only a small amount of industry concentrated in only a few different regions, and poverty and illiteracy were widespread, especially in the countryside. In much of rural Spain, life continued as it had for centuries prior, with rural Spaniards living lives not too dissimilar from their ancestors. Things would begin to change in that regard during the decades following the war, though, as Spain began in full the process of industrialization and modernization. Education, for example, was made compulsory for children up to the age of 14 in 1928, an increase from the previous age of 10. Factories began to pop up outside of the traditional industrial regions in the north for the first time, though the north continued to be the most industrial part of Spain. This wouldn’t hit in full force for a few decades, as industrialization would be boosted by further technological advances like air conditioning (important for providing a more comfortable work environment in the hot Spanish summer), but it was a start nonetheless. By the 1940s, Spain’s economy was really beginning to take off, thanks to the influx of more skilled workers due to the aforementioned educational improvements and from other technological advances, as well as Spaniards that’d moved to other parts of Europe for work returning home. Spain’s industry started by serving the domestic industrial base, but later began to expand into Hispanic America, with Spanish industrial companies setting up offices and factories in South America by the 1950s and 60s. Speaking of Hispanic America, the growing living standards in Spain meant that immigration began to decline, as the move overseas wasn’t really worth it anymore when the living standards at home were similar if not higher. What I’ve talked about here in the Spain segment also applies to Portugal, where industrialization would continue, living standards would rise and emigration to Brazil and Africa would decrease during the middle of the 20th Century.
One more thing worth mentioning here is tourism. With Europeans becoming increasingly wealthy, they were able to afford more frequent and exotic holidays. Combine that with the advent of commercial aviation and you get a massive increase in tourism. For Northern Europeans, one popular vacation was to travel south for warm weather and sunshine. Spain and Portugal were about as warm and sunny as you could get in Europe, and thus saw an opportunity to cash in on tourism from further north. With miles of sandy beaches, historic cities and towns and stunning natural scenery, the potential for tourism in Iberia seemed endless. Thus, in the mid 20th Century, new seaside resorts began to be established along the southern coast of the Iberian peninsula, from the Algarve to Murcia, along with airports to take tourists in. Before long, tourists were coming in droves to get some Vitamin D and let loose. Visitors came from all over Europe, the largest number coming from Britain, along with a significant number of domestic tourists, who tended to stay at their own resorts away from the often rowdy foreigners. Resorts were also established in the Balearic and Canary Islands along with Madeira, with visitors often coming in by sea. Tourism would prove to be a great boon for the Spanish and Portuguese economies, with their resorts and attractions becoming famous across Europe. Between that and the growing industrialization in these two countries, things were beginning to look up in the Iberian peninsula. I’ll wrap up this trip through the Latin Bloc with an update on Italy, after which I’ll have to figure out something to cover. I hope you guys enjoyed this update, and I’ll have more content soon, but until then, I must say adios to you all.

 

[Gabingston]

Provinces of Spain

• Galicia (Capital: Santiago de Compostela)
• Asturias (Capital: Oviedo)
• Leon (Capital: Leon)
• Extremadura (Capital: Merida)
• Betica (Capital: Seville)
• Canary Islands [not pictured] (Capital: Las Palmas)
• Andalusia (Capital: Granada)
• Murcia (Capital: Murcia)
• New Castile (Capital: Toledo)
• Old Castile (Capital: Burgos)
• Vasconia (Capital: Bilbao)
• Navarre (Capital: Pamplona)
• Aragon (Capital: Zaragoza)
• Valencia (Capital: Valencia)
• Catalonia (Capital: Barcelona)
• Balearic Islands (Capital: Palma)

 

[Gabingston]

Guys, I think the upcoming Italy update may turn out to be the longest update yet. The longest one so far is Part 121, which covered Southeast Asia, and that had 2,400 to 2,500 words. The Italy update is at 2,200 right now, and while it's getting close to done, I think it'll wind up passing 121 to become the biggest update in this series.

 

[Gabingston]

Part 142: Viva Italia!​

To wrap up our tour of Latin Europe, we’ll take a quick hop across the Western Mediterranean to the Italian Peninsula. Nearly two thousand years ago Italy had been the heart of the Roman Empire, but those days were long gone. After the fall of Rome, Italy splintered into many small states, which would be the status quo for well over a millennium (aside from brief periods of reunification under the Eastern Romans/Byzantines and Ostrogoths in the 6th Century). During the 19th Century, though, Italy would begin to consolidate, eventually winding up split into four states, the over a millennium old Republic of Venice, the newly unified state of Cisalpina, the Papal State and the Kingdom of Naples. I’ll cover each of these states going from north to south, which means I’ll start with the only Italian winner in the Second Global War, the Republic of Venice.
The Republic of Venice was established in the year 697, making it one of the oldest countries in the world. With that came a storied history as a commercial and mercantile powerhouse in the Mediterranean, possessing trading outposts as far away as Tanais at the mouth of the Don River. After the peak of Venetian wealth and influence in the Late Middle Ages, the republic went into a slow decline as the discovery and conquest of the Americas made Mediterranean trade less important. Despite that, they still survived and remained a regional power, particularly in the naval department. Once the industrial revolution kicked off in the 19th Century, the Venetians used their mercantile prowess to hop on the industrial train early on, becoming the most industrialized of the Italian states (I mean, the Venetian Arsenal was as close to an industrial factory as you could get in preindustrial times). Vicenza, Treviso, Padua, Brescia and Verona were bustling with industrial activity, and the area across the lagoon from the Venetian Islands had also become a major industrial area. The industrial prowess of the Venetians was a major reason for their victory over the rest of Italy in the Second Global War, after which they acquired the territory between the Oglio and Adda rivers, which had been disputed with Cisalpina. This territory included the cities of Cremona and Bergamo, and was inhabited by the Lombards, one of Italy’s many regional ethnicities. Venice already had a sizable Lombard population, so their new subjects weren’t entirely foreign, but biting off a chunk of land that large was going to be tough to chew. While most Lombards in the conquered area didn’t make too much noise (even if they were dissatisfied), there was a separatist movement that would make themselves heard, occasionally getting violent, such as rioting in Bergamo after a separatist leader was arrested in August of 1926. Venice had also annexed more of Dalmatia, and while a lot of the inhabitants were Venetians or Romance-speaking Dalmatians, the annexed territories included a lot of Slavs. This was definitely more difficult than integrating the Lombards, as not only were they far more ethnically distinct, but the war had also started over Dalmatia. Illyrian partisans continued to fight even after the war was over, fleeing across the border when need be. Coastal cities like Ragusa, Spalato and Zara had long been part of the Venetian realm, so from there they could work to integrate the hinterland. Some of these integration policies were quite harsh, such as banning the use of Illyrian Slavic in schools and in political contexts. A number of Slavic Illyrians migrated across the border into the now smaller Illyria, to which the Venetian reaction was “hey, that works, thanks”. The Ancient Venetian Republic, once in a period of decline, seemed to be well set up for the 20th Century as a wealthy and industrialized nation. Now, let’s look at their defeated neighbor, the nation of Cisalpina.
In contrast to the almost ancient Republic of Venice, Cisalpina was a rather new country. What was now Cisalpina had previously been divided into a series of smaller states and statelets, being unified by the Savoyards during the mid 19th Century. Taking the name Cisalpina from an ancient Roman name for Northern Italy, the country would quickly become arguably the most powerful state in the Italian peninsula. While it wasn’t as heavily industrialized as Venice, the larger population meant that it overall had a higher industrial capacity. Turin and Milan were two of Europe’s biggest industrial cities, while others like Genoa, Florence, Bologna and Parma also had a fair deal of industry. The ultimate dream of Cisalpine nationalists was to unite the Italian peninsula, or at least the northern half of it, though it wasn’t looking particularly likely to happen. While Genoa and Tuscany had somehow chosen to join the union (something I might retcon once we get to the Maps & Graphics spinoff), not only did the Venetians choose to remain independent, but they handily defeated the Cisalpines in combat during the Second Global War, taking control of the disputed borderland. While Venice thrived after the war, Cisalpina struggled just as the French and Spanish did. Major Cisalpine cities, particularly the big two of Turin and Milan, were gripped by frequent strikes in the late 1910s and early 1920s, sometimes turning into clashes with the authorities. Inspired by the revolt in Paris, strikers and rebels occupied sections of Milan in the summer of 1922, taking several weeks to be subdued, with several other urban revolts occurring during that time period. As in France, things began to calm down around the middle of the 1920s, though the economic crash in 1928 would deal a good blow to Cisalpina’s recovery. After several more years of hardship following the 1928 crash, the recovery would begin in earnest in the Mid 1930s, and by 1940 Cisalpina was entering a period of economic prosperity, much as other Latin Bloc countries were. After a rough two decades, Cisalpina too was looking better heading towards the halfway mark of the 20th Century. This would usually be a segue towards me closing out an update, but we’re not quite there yet, as we’ve still got some more stuff to cover here. Let’s move down south and see what’s going on in the Papal State, shall we?
The Papal States, like Venice, was a state dating back over a thousand years, having been established in the mid 8th Century. The Papal States gave the Pope significant temporal power in European geopolitics in addition to the spiritual power coming from being the head of the Catholic Church. The Pope having an earthly domain comprising much of central Italy, including obviously the eternal city of Rome, made things complicated when dealing with the ambitions of Europe’s various great powers. Even Catholic monarchs and states would sometimes butt heads with the Papacy. I bring this up because the Papal States lost much of their territory during the 19th Century to Cisalpina in the north and Naples in the south, with Papal territory at this point being pretty much confined to Latium, becoming just the singular Papal State. Both Cisalpina and Naples had nationalist movements that wanted to unify Italy under their banner, but they would have to be content with just unifying most of their halves of the peninsula. The Pope wasn’t too happy with Cisalpina and Naples, who were both ostensibly faithful Catholics, taking big bites out of Papal territory, and he excommunicated both monarchs, though in both cases it was lifted before their deaths and they were allowed to partake in their last rites. The Papal State remained neutral in both Global Wars, not wanting to take a side in a war where Catholics fought each other. In fact, the Papal State would for the most part commit itself to diplomatic neutrality, only taking a side when Catholics were under threat. More of the interesting developments in the Papal State were internal, so let’s get to that, shall we?
While most countries in Europe had official state religions, the Papal State was unique in that, as the name would suggest, it was a full-on theocracy. In many countries the church (or churches) and state had close ties, in others they were completely separate, but in the Papal State, they were one and the same. The Church was responsible for pretty much all of the schooling, medical care and social services within the Papal State, as it had for centuries. Within the Papal State, there were differing views when it came to the status quo and how the country’s governance should change in the future. First, the Traditionalists in the Papal State preferred the maintenance of Papal and Ecclesiastical authority within the country, not only because the Pope was the Vicar of Christ, but because it’d been a workable status quo for centuries, and why fix something that isn’t broken? Next were the Reformists, who seeked to synthesize traditional Papal governance with the Enlightenment ideals of popular representation that had become popular since the late 18th Century. For example, the Reformists desired the creation of a popularly-elected Parliament to handle the temporal affairs of the Papal State, while the Pope and Clergy handled the spiritual matters. Traditionalists and Reformists would often debate and discuss their worldviews, with a Conservative faction forming as a synthesis of the two sides. That’s just covering those within the good graces of the Church, though, as there were also the Radicals who wanted to overthrow the Papal government and create a new, secular Roman Republic. The Radicals were suppressed by the government for obvious reasons, but they did manage to attract a noticeable following within some aspects of society, though they were still a small fraction of the population. There were also non-Catholics within the Papal State such as non-Catholic Christians and Jews. Non-Catholic Christian, such as the Orthodox or various Protestants, were mainly foreigners who were living in the Papal States for diplomatic purposes. As a result, Orthodox and Protestant churches were allowed to operate within the city of Rome, though they were strictly for use by foreigners and weren’t allowed to proselytize to the locals. There was also a long-standing Jewish community within Rome, whose status had varied between mere tolerance and total persecution depending on who was in charge. Roman Jews had been confined to the Roman Ghetto, being barred from living elsewhere. The status of the Jews became wrapped up within the aforementioned political debates, with debates about the ghetto and religious practice occurring within the Papal State’s government. These debates would fade over time, though, as the growing emigration of Jews from Europe meant that many of Rome’s Jews were leaving the Papal State of their own volition, mainly headed to places like the Commonwealth of America that provided full religious freedom. With my discussion of religious minorities within the Papal State, it’s worth reiterating that the vast majority of the Papal population were faithful Catholics perfectly content with Papal governance, even if many of them wanted direct representation in said governance. Whether that will remain the case as we go further along remains to be seen.
In other news, the Papal State’s economy was by no means disconnected from the trends that had swept the rest of Europe. Rome had become a major rail hub in Italy, with lines headed north towards Cisalpina and Venice and south towards Naples. The new city of Ostia, founded just downstream from the ancient one from which it took its name, became a major trading port connecting the Papal State to the rest of the Mediterranean, alongside smaller ones like Anzio and Civitavecchia. Industries to serve the domestic market began to pop up around Rome, run by small tradesmen rather than large conglomerates, as fit into the economic model preferred by many Catholics. While the Papal State’s economy wasn’t as wealthy as northern Europe or even Cisalpina and Venice, the Papal State was by no means impoverished. I’ve wrote enough on the Papal State for now, and as a Catholic myself I’m getting worn out on toeing the line when it comes to discussing the Papal State, so I think now’s a good time to get to the final of the four Italian states, the Kingdom of Naples.
Dating back to the 13th Century, the Kingdom of Naples, like the rest of Italy, had long been under foreign influence. Whether it be the French, Aragonese or Spanish, Naples was often the subject of foreign powers despite its considerable size, even being directly ruled by Spain for a while. While it was now independent, the ties to larger powers continued, as Naples was part of the French-led Latin Bloc (which also included Cisaplina and Spain). This wasn’t without its benefits, though, as Naples would receive French investment and protection.
Investment would be well appreciated, as unlike the rather industrialized Cisalpina, Naples was a very agrarian country, with vestiges of the feudal system surviving even into the 20th Century and the only major industries existing around the capital. Neapolitans emigrated en masse during the Late 19th and Early 20th century, with millions leaving for The Americas (primarily Brazil, La Plata and Florida) and many others heading to wealthier Latin Bloc countries like France or Cisalpina, as well as the Italian colony in Libya (a subject for a future update in its own right). With the economic crisis affecting the Latin Bloc in the 20 years following the Second Global War, Neapolitan emigration would continue, with millions more leaving for greener pastures during this time. Back home, organized crime surged as desperate citizens turned to the criminal underbelly of society to make ends meet, and while it’d be romanticized in future films (more on TTL’s movie industry in a future update), it certainly didn’t make the kingdom any better off. Among the population, demands for things like land reform (much of the kingdom was still organized into large estates, with many Neapolitan peasants being landless), political reforms like expanding the franchise and granting more powers to parliament and greater economic development rose during the rough times of the late 1910s and 1920s. Between the crime, economic hardship and political tension, the 1920s were not a fun time to be a Neapolitan. Still, things eventually improved, and by the mid 1930s the Neapolitan economy was beginning to experience considerable growth. The previously small industrial sector began to experience growth, expanding out of Naples to cities like Taranto (no, not that one), Bari, Reggio, Catania and Palermo, bringing greater job opportunities to the residents of said cities. Political reform was also pursued, as the franchise was expanded first to all veterans of the Second Global War and then to any adult man in 1934 (the ladies would have to wait). The power of the traditional nobility began to decline around this period as well, not because of any sort of political action, but simply due to modernization, as machines began to replace fieldhands and urbanization accelerated. With growing economic opportunity at home, overseas emigration began to taper off, though Neapolitans would continue moving abroad in large numbers for decades, particularly once a certain resource would be discovered over in Libya a decade or two down the road. While organized crime remained an issue, its prevalence decreased as economic prosperity and opportunity increased, and some mafiosos even became involved in legitimate enterprises. While Naples did remain poorer than most of Europe, it was starting to make the first steps towards prosperity and modernization, and while it did still have a long way to go to match its more northerly contemporaries, there’s no way to start but to take one’s first steps.
After a rough post-war period, things were beginning to look up in the Italian Peninsula. From the mountains of Lombardy to the Venetian Lagoon, down to St. Peter’s in Rome and the dramatic coastline of Campania, Italy was finally climbing out of its post-war slump into a future that looked bright. Whether things turn out that well is yet to be seen, but either way, we haven’t seen the last of Italy in this TL. Viva Italia!

 

[Gabingston]

Happy Easter, everyone! Sorry that I haven't gotten another update out yet, I've been playing a lot of Tropico 6. It is in the works, though, and should hopefully be out within the next week.

 

[Gabingston]

Part 143: Lights, Camera, Action!​

As you may have noticed, I haven’t done a lot of culturally focused updates in this series. Most have revolved around geopolitics or economics, with less attention paid to the culture of this world. I’m planning on changing that, though, as several updates I have planned will be focused on the culture of the world of EC/FC. I’ll start off with this world’s film industry, as with technology advancing at a by and large similar rate to our world, cinematography is still going to emerge. Enough with this intro, how about we dive right into this world’s film industry, shall we?
Theater and acting in the Western world has a long, long history, going back to the Ancient Greeks and Romans. While ancient theater traditions largely died with the end of Classical Civilization, Western theater reemerged in the High Middle Ages, before flowering even further during the Early Modern Period. Theater continued to thrive through the centuries, right up until where we begin our story today.
After the invention of photography around the middle of the 19th Century, inventors seeked to create a device that could film events as if they were happening in real life. After decades of work from various people, success was achieved at the turn of the 20th Century, with the first motion picture recording coming just as the 19th Century was coming to a close. The first decade of the 20th Century would see rudimentary and primitive short films made, but things would really begin to get interesting in 1911, when the Second Global War would kick off.
The Second Global War both interrupted and spurred the development of filmography. Interrupted because many of those who had been working on filmography volunteered or were drafted to fight in the war and thus couldn’t continue with their work, and spurred because footage of the war was in high demand, both for propaganda and for future historical preservation. While film wasn’t that widespread yet, video footage of the war would be shown in whatever venues could support it, as well as being saved for the future. After the war, filmmakers who made it out alive came back to their own hobby/profession and resumed work (if they weren’t too traumatized to work, that is). The 1920s saw an explosion in the popularity and prevalence of film, particularly in the victorious countries, where people had more disposable income than ever to spend on entertainment. Cinemas opened left and right, from the biggest of cities to small towns, and movie studios popped up to cash in on the new trend.
The largest film industry in the world was the Anglophone film industry, due to the wealth of the Anglo countries and the massive population of the Commonwealth of America. The largest centers of film production in the Anglosphere were London, New York and San Francisco, with smaller ones in Manchester, Edinburgh, Mount Royal, Chicago, and Port Jackson. Even colonial cities like Manila, Calcutta and Hong Kong began to produce films, leading to the future growth of cinema in those regions after independence. British and American films began to make bank at the box office, and film actors/actresses became some of the most well known people in the Anglosphere. One couldn’t think of San Francisco without thinking of the silver screen (well, that or the Imperial Pacific Fleet, which was based there). In second place was the German film industry, primarily based in Berlin and Vienna with smaller productions in Frankfurt, Hamburg, Munich and Neuseeland. The German states had a similar era of prosperity after the war to the Anglosphere, which enabled people to enjoy more luxuries, like movies. While being one of the first places to produce motion pictures, the Francophone film industry fell to third place due to the rough economic conditions in the country from the late 1910s to the mid 1930s. Paris was obviously the beating heart of Francophone cinema, with Richelieu and Marseille being secondary sites. With the prestige of the French language, though, French cinema was often highly acclaimed and, well, prestigious. Other countries like Russia, Japan, Spain/Hispanic America, Portugal/Brazil, the Italian states and China also had film industries, some of which would become much larger with time.
Films weren’t just limited to the locations of their studios, though, as other locations would become popular for filming. For example, the French film industry loved filming along the Mediterranean, particularly in Provence, with coastal towns like Toulon, Saint-Tropez and Cannes becoming deeply associated with French cinematography. This was true of other regions’ film industries as well, as the Germans loved filming in the Alps and along the Austrian Riviera. In the Anglosphere, there were a ton of beautiful and/or luxurious locations that were mainstays in cinema, from the quaint English countryside to the towering peaks of the Rockies.
As time continued to march on, filming technology advanced by leaps and bounds. While films in the early 20th Century were silent and black and white, audio was introduced en masse beginning in the 1930s. The 1930s were also when the first color films began to hit cinemas, though they wouldn’t become the majority of films for another two decades or so. Animated pictures also began to grow in popularity, both in the forms of hand drawings and stop motion. While animation started with short films lasting only a matter of minutes, animation studios soon became more ambitious and started producing feature-length films.
Speaking of feature-length films, I haven’t gone over what these films were about? What were the popular subjects and genres in cinema during the early-mid 20th Century? Well, there were a variety of things that movies in this time period liked to portray. First were the universally appealing subjects of love and romance. Whether in the form of comedy, drama or tragedy, romantic films were always a surefire way to rake in the big bucks at the box office. The subject of love and romance definitely extended to sex, as while few if any films contained explicit sexual material (which would be more trouble than it was worth, for obvious reasons), many romantic films had noticeable sexual undertones, which could sometimes land the directors in hot water. Another popular subject was war, as the recency of the Second Global War made films about said conflict very salient, particularly in the victorious countries. Countries that lost the war often turned to past victories for their patriotic films, such as French films about the First Global War and earlier conflicts. On a related note, films about historical events were quite popular, once again tying into the use of films as patriotic media. For example, the French made movies based on Joan of Arc and France's great monarchs, the Germans on the victory over the Romans at Teutoburg Forest and the Americans about the Pilgrims and Jamestown. The interest in historical cinema extended to films on Religious and Mythological subjects, such as Biblical stories from both Testaments and retellings of ancient myths, mainly Greco-Roman but sometimes from other sources too. Regardless, films based on historical or mythological events proved to be successful on the silver screen. Of course there were other genres of film that were successful, like action, mystery or children’s cinema, but I have neither the time nor interest in delving into those topics.
From its humble origins at the turn of the 20th Century, by mid century the film industry was a giant, pulling in massive revenues annually and with its actors and directors being among the most recognizable people on the planet. With advancing technology and immensely talented and creative people behind the scenes, the future of cinema looked bright indeed. I may eventually do a second update on the film industry as we head into the latter part of the 20th Century, but I think this is good for now. I’ll have another update in the works soon after this one, and I’ll also put some work into UOTTC, but until then, I wish you guys a great day and a belated Happy Easter!

 

[Gabingston]

Part 144: Going For Gold​

For the second in a series of culturally-focused updates I’m putting out, I return to the world of athletics. My first update on sports, Part 91, came out two and a half years ago in late 2020, so I think it’s about time I return to this subject. Athletics has both similarities and differences from OTL, which I will explore in this update. So, without further ado, let’s look at TTL’s sports scene.
Let’s start off with some of the regional sports scenes. First, the Commonwealth of America. With its massive population and even more massive economy, it’s no surprise that the COA had massively popular and influential sports leagues. For example, the American Batonball Association (TTL’s Baseball) had 24 teams by 1950 spanning from coast to coast (thank you, commercial air travel), with over 100 games played by each team per season. Batonball stadiums held tens of thousands of spectators and were often centerpieces of their respective cities. This was true of other sports as well, such as Football (very similar to OTL’s Association Football), Rugball (TTL’s Rugby/American Football) and Ice Hockey (which could go under a different name ITTL, but I can’t think of one at the moment. Suggestions would be welcome), which all had large and popular professional leagues that drew in tens of thousands of spectators per match. It wasn’t just professional sports that were big draws, though, as university sports also had a large following (sometimes even more devoted than for the pros) and even high/secondary school sports were very popular, especially in towns where no pro or college sports teams played.
Other countries and regions also had professional sports leagues, such as the English Football League, the pan-German Deutscherliga, French Ligue Premier and pan-Italian Coppa Italiana, which all became mainstays of their respective countries/regions’ cultures. Clubs and teams gained devoted followings, and legendary rivalries formed between them. Individual sports were also popular, such as Tennis, Boxing and various winter sports in areas where the climate was suited for it. Just as the top players in the various team sports became famous celebrities, so did the top tennis players, boxers and skiers. Speaking of skiing, commercial ski areas began to grow in popularity with the advent of things like ski lifts. Before long the Alps, Scandes and Appalachians were home to world-class ski resorts that could host thousands of skiers. One couldn’t say the names “St. Moritz”, “Lillehammer” or “Tremblemount” without thinking of some fresh white powder (no, not that). While the Alps, Scandinavia and Appalachia were the places with the most ski areas during this time period, skiing spread to pretty much everywhere snow fell during the winter, such as the Rockies, Patagonia, Neuseeland and Japan. I’ll get back to skiing soon enough, but I’ve got other things to talk about, such as a certain ancient tradition that was revived after the devastation of the Second Global War…
After the Second Global War, the Ancient Greek Olympics were revived in order to provide a more productive and less bloody form of international competition than the war that had just consumed the world. The first games in 1920 were of course held in Greece, specifically in Athens, an obvious callback to the ancient games. The second games took place in Berlin four years later, held during the post-war golden age in Germanic Europe. In 1928, the Olympics came to Paris, helping to revitalize France during their post-war misery. After the Paris games, the Olympics were expanded to include a separate Winter Games in even-numbered off years, with the first Winter Games being held in Zurich in 1930. I covered all that in my first sports update, but now it’s time to move further on in time. I was going to write about each location that hosts, but for the sake of expediency, I’ll just do a list instead for all of the games up to 1970.
SUMMER GAMES:

• 1932: London
• 1936: Tokyo
• 1940: Moscow
• 1944: Amsterdam
• 1948: Chicago
• 1952: Madrid
• 1956: Rio de Janeiro
• 1960: Constantinople
• 1964: Port Jackson
• 1968: Lisbon

WINTER GAMES:

• 1934: Mount Royal
• 1938: Vienna
• 1942: Oslo
• 1946: Milan
• 1950: Boston
• 1954: Grenoble
• 1958: Nagano
• 1962: Sarajevo
• 1966: Tacoma
• 1970: Munich

By 1960, the Olympic Games had expanded from just the heart of Europe to become a global affair, with America hosting three games, Japan two and Brazil one, as well as the bi-continental city state of Constantinople. As the games grew in scope and scale, more and more countries began to be represented at the games. What started as mostly a European affair now had athletes coming from all continents and races (for lack of a better term) all competing for gold and glory. In addition, hosting the Olympics could be a real boon for the city in question if they played their cards right. Put on a good show, and your city’s prestige would go up a good deal. Granted, hosting the games posed its fair deal of challenges, as you’d have to shut down an entire city for weeks on end, not to mention the copious amounts of money that would be spent on facilities like venues, hotels and infrastructure. While host cities in this era tended to be pretty efficient and resourceful (in large part because many of them were megacities that already had most of the infrastructure they needed), whether that would remain the case with Olympic host cities into the future is an open question. Now, how about we limit the scope of an international athletic competition to one sport but expand the scope from one city to an entire country?
Seeing the success of the Olympic Games, the governing body for Association Football that I won’t bother to name decided to start a competition of their own. Named the Prix du Monde (or World Prize), this competition would be hosted in various cities across its host country and pit teams representing different nations against one another in a tournament to see who’d come out on top. The first Prix du Monde took place in France in 1934, with Prussia following in 1938 and Britain in 1942. 1946 had the three Scandinavian countries of Denmark, Norway and Sweden host together, as each of them was too small to host it on their own. The Prix went overseas for the first time in 1950 as La Plata hosted, followed in 1954 by the Commonwealth of America. The Prix went to Russia in 1958, Brazil in 1962 and a joint Italian bid in 1966. Finally, the Prix came to Spain and Portugal in 1970. As with the Olympics, the Prix du Monde was a massively popular global event, with hundreds of millions of people watching or listening to the matches, with the final in 1970 between La Plata and Prussia coming close to an audience of a billion. Other sports like Rugball, Batonball and Ice Hockey established their own global competitions, and while they wouldn’t draw quite as many people as the Prix du Monde, they too would become very popular events in regions where they were played (either that or they were represented in the Olympics).
In the mid 20th Century, athletic competitions surged in scope and popularity. More and more countries sent athletes and teams to go for gold, and those who won brought glory to themselves and their countries. I’ll eventually come back to sports and athletics in the future, but for now, I’ve got other stuff to get to, both in this and in my other TL. Take care, guys, I’ll see you next time!

 

[Gabingston]

Hey guys, I've got a bit of an announcement.
As of the present, the borders in Australia look like this:

And the borders in South America look like this:

However, I don't really feel satisfied with this. Thus, I'm going to be retconning these borders. Portuguese Australia will be made smaller, with the current British/French Australia border being extended up to the Gulf of Carpentaria, thus making OTL's Northern Queensland part of British Australia. On the flip side, British Patagonia will be made smaller, with the border between British Patagonia and La Plata being placed on the Colorado, Salado and Atuel Rivers. Also, I'll make Chile independent, as it had its own Captaincy General under the Spanish and is geographically separated from the rest of La Plata. Updated maps will come in soon.
EDIT: I've decided to make the Patagonian-Platine border the Diamante River instead of the Atuel, as the Diamante is represented on my basemap.

 

[CarlosTheAltHistoryGuy]

Hey guys, I've got a bit of an announcement.
As of the present, the borders in Australia look like this:
View attachment 825676
And the borders in South America look like this:
View attachment 825677
However, I don't really feel satisfied with this. Thus, I'm going to be retconning these borders. Portuguese Australia will be made smaller, with the current British/French Australia border being extended up to the Gulf of Carpentaria, thus making OTL's Northern Queensland part of British Australia. On the flip side, British Patagonia will be made smaller, with the border between British Patagonia and La Plata being placed on the Colorado, Salado and Atuel Rivers. Updated maps will come in soon.

Random thing but would Gran Colombia have it's 1820 borders or at least Esequibo or was it seized at some point?

 

[Gabingston]

Random thing but would Gran Colombia have it's 1820 borders or at least Esequibo or was it seized at some point?

I'm content with New Granada (TTL's Gran Colombia) as it is.

 

[Gabingston]

Alright, folks, here are the retconned maps