Except North Germany
And sorry, I was considering France+Austria+Russia as a candidate to the "Central Empires/Central Powers" label (considering Europe and especially the Eurasian Landmass).
Malê Rising
- Thread starter Jonathan Edelstein
- Start date
Except North Germany
And sorry, I was considering France+Austria+Russia as a candidate to the "Central Empires/Central Powers" label (considering Europe and especially the Eurasian Landmass).
wolf_brother
Banned
Except North Germany
And sorry, I was considering France+Austria+Russia as a candidate to the "Central Empires/Central Powers" label (considering Europe and especially the Eurasian Landmass).
North Germany's certainly imperial, both in the colonial sense and in the way Berlin treats it's "confederation."
I suppose Russia is central in regards to Eurasia, and Austria-Hungary of Europe, but you certainly can't really say the same of France, especially taking into context her colonial empire. Though on the other hand having the war between the Axis and the Central Powers would be delicious ahistorically allegorical
North Germany's certainly imperial, both in the colonial sense and in the way Berlin treats it's "confederation."
I suppose Russia is central in regards to Eurasia, and Austria-Hungary of Europe, but you certainly can't really say the same of France, especially taking into context her colonial empire. Though on the other hand having the war between the Axis and the Central Powers would be delicious ahistorically allegorical
North Germany is an imperial power, but her ruler (unlike the other Great Powers' monarchs) does not bear a title equivalent to "Emperor". Sort of the French Third Republic IOTL.
However, there are just too many Empires in the play here. Japan and China are likely to get involved too, not mention Ethiopia. And while not technically correct, Siam and Persia can be construed as being such as well. Siam is alrady involved, Persia can hardly hope to stay out in this context.
Queen Victoria was officially an Empress IOTL; by the way, part of the reason she was crowned Empress of India was somewhat of a response to William I taking the Imperial title in Germany, which will not happen ITTL; but we know that Victoria's Imperial coronation will take place regardless, ITTL she actually has TWO Imperial titles. Though none of them in Great Britain, indeed.
Thanks! I'll admit that this update was a bit of a slog, because I had to rough out the politics and motivations of several countries I hadn't thought much about thus far. The discussions in the comments helped a great deal.
Speaking of which, how do you think the All-India Reform Congress will react to the war? It's a much more embryonic organization than OTL's Indian National Congress, and at this point isn't as openly nationalist (it doesn't yet oppose British rule and has British as well as Muslim members). My guess is that, at least at first, it would make a point of being loyal in the hope of gaining favor for Indian autonomy after the war, but that its position might evolve depending on how the war unfolds and what Britain does.
Man, has it ever.
Many of TTL's historians will point to the socialists' withdrawal from the French government as a monumental miscalculation. They assumed that the fall of the government would prevent anything major from happening until May, and that the voters would sweep the populist coalition out of office. They underestimated Leclair's willingness to disregard the unwritten constitution and use all of a caretaker government's technical powers, as well as the extent to which the clerical parties in parliament would support his rush to war. And now, he'll use the war to postpone elections indefinitely, although he won't suspend the constitution or prorogue the legislature.
Certainly, the socialist parties that had never been part of the "red-blue" coalition will be quick to blame those that were.
The fact is, though, that events had already taken on their own momentum by then. A different outcome to the French constitutional crisis might have slowed things down, but the end result would still have been the same.
Not all the North Germans are as eager to fight as Wilhelm II and his coterie. There's a sizable number who realize what industrial war will be like (remember that the NDB is one of the few nations that's had a taste of it before) and the trade unionists are well aware that Wilhelm will try to use the war to roll back Friedrich III's reforms. But pan-Germanism is a popular cause, there's widespread sympathy for the Bavarian rebellion, and the idea of avenging the stolen victory against France has broad appeal.
Well, in purely technical terms, North Germany is defending itself against the French and Austrians - they declared war on it before it declared war on them. But you're correct that the NDB's behavior is defensive only in a narrowly legalistic sense, which would give pause to both the British and Italians. As we've discussed, Italy will come in soon enough - it has to mobilize if it wants Rome, and once it mobilizes, it will probably be at war with France and Austria whether or not it wants to be - but it will let the bidding continue for a while.
Fair point. As you say, though, the risk to Denmark will outweigh any potential reward. It might be a closer question for Sweden, but if it invades Finland, it will probably end up with much more than it bargained for: Finland is tough country for invaders, and the Finns were content enough under Russian rule that they'd fight.
Ethiopia is tempted, because the potential rewards are great, but so is the risk. There's a very real chance that it could find itself surrounded - Egypt is to the north, the Anglo-Omani empire to the south, and the North Germans in Ubangi-Shari to the west - and there's a fair probability of becoming someone's colony if it loses. Whether Ethiopia joins - and if so, on what side - is still up in the air.
Egypt is a nominal Ottoman vassal, but at this point it's very nominal - it has as much of a choice about whether to join the war as OTL Canada or Australia did in World War II. With that said, joining the Ottomans would be the natural thing for it to do, and the Ottoman cause will be popular, so once the requisite sweeteners are offered, it will probably jump in.
Like Ethiopia, Greece is of two minds - it has much to gain, but also much to lose, and it had achieved a fragile detente with the Ottomans in the years just prior to the war. They'll probably wait and see at first, and depending on how the fighting goes, there may be some strange bedfellows.
Both sides will be courting them, and their leaders will also face serious internal pressure from both directions. They'll have a role to play in the first year of the war, which you'll find out soon.
The Palatinate is in royal Bavarian hands, and is hostile territory to the North Germans.
I've been hoping that the Anglo-German-Ottomans might be referred to as the Axis
Though, perhaps more realistically. either side could simply be the allies, alliance, etc. It's not like IOTL's WWI or WWII here; IOTL the Triple Entente grew out of the Franco-British entente formed during the Crimean, and the Central Powers were referred to as such due to their geographic situation. Especially in regards to the Anglo-German-Ottoman alliance, with Vienna in the way, and considering the wide-flung nature of the British Empire's dominions and domains it'd be a bit difficult to refer to them as "Central," and it'd be a bit of a diplomatic faux pas to refer to the Franco-Austrian-Russian as the Entente in this situation.
Other than that anything referencing empires seems a bit off, as everyone in this conflict is an empire.
That's a good question. I expect that the alliances would have, or acquire, names - the press would want to call them something besides "our side" and "their side."
Each of them could actually be described as an axis: Britain-NDB-Ottoman Empire runs northwest to southeast, and France-Austria-Russia runs southwest to northeast. The term "axis" in OTL originated with a specific leader describing a specific agreement, though, and neither would exist in TTL. Maybe "the Alliance" and "the League?" I'd like something more creative, but can't think of anything offhand.
Yes, and it will only get nastier once the parties realize they're in it for the long haul, and once the political factions within each nation realize that the overriding struggle is between reaction and modernity.
Kaiphranos
Donor
And so it begins. I can see how the schoolchildren of the future may have trouble with the "six B's," though--if the canonical ones are Brazil, Bulgaria, Bornu, Bavaria, Burma, and Berekum, I can see students adding Bohemia, Bosnia, Balkans, and Belém to that list. (Or perhaps schools in different countries will end up using slightly different mnemonics...) And there will no doubt be other "B's" as the war goes on, increasing the potential for confusion...
The Sandman
Banned
Hmm.
Well, given that the Kiel Canal wasn't scheduled to open for another two years IOTL, and that it may well have been delayed ITTL since the NDB doesn't have as much money to play with as the Kaiserreich did, Denmark is going to find itself under extreme pressure to let the British and Germans move warships to and from the Baltic.
I'm not sure if the Finns would be quite as loyal as IOTL, given that TTL's Russia has spent the past 15 years becoming increasingly hostile to minorities after their defeat in the Russo-Turkish War. All somebody needs is the idea that the Finns are just waiting to revolt once the first Swedes, Germans or British cross the border to start something there, though, even if that bears no resemblance to reality.
Argentina is probably under pressure from the British to come in against Brazil, assuming they haven't already; IIRC, the Argentines were extremely close to the British IOTL up until WWI destroyed their trade links and ruined the Argentine economy. Chile is going to be happily raking in money selling nitrates to everyone, at least until one side or the other decides to seize the whole region and thus cut the other side off from that critical resource.
The Caribbean will be a gigantic mess, which will no doubt further disquiet the Americans. Also, I can't recall how the whole "Empire of Mexico" project turned out; if it's still there, that would be another relevant factor when the US eventually joins the war.
Heck, even Switzerland might not be able to stay neutral; assuming that the South German states are overrun fairly quickly, or at the least are completely shattered and thus not really available for transportation between France and Austria, the Swiss are unlucky enough to be sitting right on top of the land routes between France and Austria on the one hand and Italy and the NDB on the other.
And regardless of what happens with Belgium and the Netherlands, poor Luxembourg is pretty much screwed. They likely have minimal fortifications at best, and they aren't important enough for anyone to care about their neutrality being violated.
Well, given that the Kiel Canal wasn't scheduled to open for another two years IOTL, and that it may well have been delayed ITTL since the NDB doesn't have as much money to play with as the Kaiserreich did, Denmark is going to find itself under extreme pressure to let the British and Germans move warships to and from the Baltic.
I'm not sure if the Finns would be quite as loyal as IOTL, given that TTL's Russia has spent the past 15 years becoming increasingly hostile to minorities after their defeat in the Russo-Turkish War. All somebody needs is the idea that the Finns are just waiting to revolt once the first Swedes, Germans or British cross the border to start something there, though, even if that bears no resemblance to reality.
Argentina is probably under pressure from the British to come in against Brazil, assuming they haven't already; IIRC, the Argentines were extremely close to the British IOTL up until WWI destroyed their trade links and ruined the Argentine economy. Chile is going to be happily raking in money selling nitrates to everyone, at least until one side or the other decides to seize the whole region and thus cut the other side off from that critical resource.
The Caribbean will be a gigantic mess, which will no doubt further disquiet the Americans. Also, I can't recall how the whole "Empire of Mexico" project turned out; if it's still there, that would be another relevant factor when the US eventually joins the war.
Heck, even Switzerland might not be able to stay neutral; assuming that the South German states are overrun fairly quickly, or at the least are completely shattered and thus not really available for transportation between France and Austria, the Swiss are unlucky enough to be sitting right on top of the land routes between France and Austria on the one hand and Italy and the NDB on the other.
And regardless of what happens with Belgium and the Netherlands, poor Luxembourg is pretty much screwed. They likely have minimal fortifications at best, and they aren't important enough for anyone to care about their neutrality being violated.
What about China? Its lack of mention seems ominous. Since Korea is looking to Russia for protection rather than China as was the case at this point IOTL and nobody seems to expect China to do anything maybe:
-Some internal disturbance is keeping China busy.
-Chinese arms have been humiliated recently as in the Sino Japanese War IOTL.
-There's been a major rupture in Sino Korean relations.
-Some internal disturbance is keeping China busy.
-Chinese arms have been humiliated recently as in the Sino Japanese War IOTL.
-There's been a major rupture in Sino Korean relations.
And so it begins. I can see how the schoolchildren of the future may have trouble with the "six B's," though--if the canonical ones are Brazil, Bulgaria, Bornu, Bavaria, Burma, and Berekum, I can see students adding Bohemia, Bosnia, Balkans, and Belém to that list. (Or perhaps schools in different countries will end up using slightly different mnemonics...) And there will no doubt be other "B's" as the war goes on, increasing the potential for confusion...
To be fair, Belém would make more sense than Brazil to summarize the specific situation there.
Well, NE Asia was a major flashpoint of Great Power politics around this time in OTL. ITTL, it looks like somewhat less of a focus. By the way, I suppose the assassination attempt of Nicky in Japan has been butterflied completely, right? That might change the Russo-Japanese relations relative to OTL, though they're still rivals.
China is likely hoping to sit out of the mess is possible. However, with Japan leaning towards the Anglo-Turk-German alliance, China might end on the Franco-Russian side if forced to pick one. Of course China would benefit by neutrality (they'd endured defeat in Indochina at the hands of the French ITTL, didn't they?) but Chinese govt. might not see the advantage, or might be forced to join regardless.
And so it begins. I can see how the schoolchildren of the future may have trouble with the "six B's," though--if the canonical ones are Brazil, Bulgaria, Bornu, Bavaria, Burma, and Berekum, I can see students adding Bohemia, Bosnia, Balkans, and Belém to that list. (Or perhaps schools in different countries will end up using slightly different mnemonics...) And there will no doubt be other "B's" as the war goes on, increasing the potential for confusion...
Absolutely - and as Falecius says, Belém is arguably more accurate than Brazil to describe the conflict in the Amazon. Brazil became canonical, at least in the English-speaking world, because the Anglo-German powers' entry into what was previously a Grão Pará civil war was triggered by the Brazilian invasion. Like most historical mnemonics, "the six Bs" is fairly debatable.
And yes, there will be more Bs down the line, some of them fairly early on.
Or else the British and North Germans will simply move their ships through Danish waters and dare the Danes to stop them. Denmark might actually prefer this option to a formal navigation agreement, because then it could tell the French and Russians that it was simply bowing to superior force.
To be fair, the ultra-nationalist ire has been directed primarily at the Jews, Muslims, Poles and urban workers. The traditionally-loyal minorities like the Finns, Armenians and Georgians have been largely spared, especially since Armenia and Georgia are now autonomous vassal kingdoms while Finland is an autonomous grand duchy.
On the other hand, Nicholas II did try to Russify Finland in OTL, so it's certainly possible that some courtier in TTL could advocate ham-handed Russification measures or persuade the Tsar that the Finns are disloyal. And in wartime, of course, the effect of any wrong move would be magnified.
BTW, Mannerheim's ATL-sibling will be a young officer in this war, and the experience might be very formative for him.
Agreed on both counts, although seizing Chile might be an expensive endeavor; the alliances might be more likely to try to deny each other access to the Chilean ports.
The Second Mexican Empire was as short-lived in TTL as in OTL, and Mexico doesn't have any readily apparent reason to join either side.
The Caribbean could be a mess, or it could be completely quiet. The British and French might try to take each other's sugar islands, with the aim of denying the enemy a base to berth and resupply their ships, but the British land forces and French navy will be overstrained already, and they might not have resources to waste on such minor targets.
If Spain joins the war, of course, its Caribbean autonomous provinces (which is what they are at this point) could be up for grabs - but any belligerent power that tries to take Cuba, and establish itself 90 miles from Key West, would risk bringing the United States into the war.
The Caribbean will be at most a minor theater during the first year, and maybe not even that. What happens later will depend on how the war develops.
Fair point about Luxembourg, although the powers might be deterred by the risk of setting a bad precedent - the Dutch and Belgians might figure "anyone who violates Luxembourg's neutrality might disregard ours too," and come in on the other side. They'll care even if no one else does.
It's a combination of the first and second. China is facing rebellion, as it often did during the late 19th century, and the battles against the rebels have made its military inadequacy very plain. Korea still looks to China to some extent, and a faction of the Korean court remains very skeptical of any alliance with Russia, but the Koreans no longer trust in China's ability to protect them. They'd like to have both China and Russia as protectors, but if they have to choose one, it will probably be Russia.
It would certainly make geopolitical sense for China to join the Franco-Austrian-Russian alliance if it joins the war at all. Japan's Korean ambitions would potentially put it into conflict with Russia, thus inclining it toward the Anglo-German-Ottoman side; this may push the Chinese toward France and Russia in the hope of getting their protection against Japanese invasion. Of course France and Russia would be too overstretched to do much protecting, so neutrality might be better for China, although even neutrality might not save it if the Japanese are determined to invade.
On the other hand, if Russia and Japan reach a diplomatic accord over Korea (and possibly Manchuria), this might push China toward the Anglo-German side. East Asia will also be relatively quiet during the first year of the war, although political and military developments could easily change that.
Anyway, I'm planning for the next update to be a narrative "scenes from the war" post, and the one after that to give a broader overview of the first year. After that, I'll alternate narrative and history-book updates, one for each year, although there may also be one or more separate updates which give greater details on the African theaters and the role of the African kingdoms and princely states.
Faeelin
Banned
You know, the fact that the Bavaria was the product of a nationalist uprising is going to have all sorts of complications in the future.
ISTM that German nationalism in TTL will be more democratic than ours, simply because the elites were opposed to it, especially in the south.
This doesn't mean shiny happy Germany. Plenty of far-right nationalists had no trouble hating the monarchies and also other nationalities, etc., but it is interesting.
ISTM that German nationalism in TTL will be more democratic than ours, simply because the elites were opposed to it, especially in the south.
This doesn't mean shiny happy Germany. Plenty of far-right nationalists had no trouble hating the monarchies and also other nationalities, etc., but it is interesting.
Is the Royal Navy still on the two-power standard? I take it that there's no such thing as HMS Dreadnought yet.
Fair point, and one I hadn't considered. There isn't a complete disconnect between the southern elites and the populace - some high-ranking Bavarian officers and even noblemen support pan-Germanism and oppose the monarchy - but the movement is definitely driven more from below than it was in OTL.
As you say, this won't necessarily make things shiny and happy in the twentieth century, but it will mean that Wilhelm II will have more opposition to his attempts to roll back parliamentary rule than he bargained for, and that many of the people who oppose him on that issue will be the strongest supporters of his pan-German project.
It is, with the two powers currently being the North German Confederation and France. There's no Dreadnought - the British fleet is similar to what was built in OTL under the Naval Defence Act 1889.
Another update immediately below: it isn't the official "scenes from the war" episode, although it is a scene from the war.
The Boer and the Malê
The Upper Niger
June 1893
The campfire burned low, and Usman Abacar, seated on an ammunition crate, looked deep into it searching for patterns. Jubilant troops were all around, lit by the flames; the night was alive with men dancing the capoeira and singing Fulani battle songs.
Usman had worried about that for a moment, but his detachment was well hidden and far from the French garrison, and there were sentry-posts to give warning if they hadn’t gone far enough. There would be no harm in celebrating, and there was plenty of reason. They’d taken the Frenchmen guarding the railroad by surprise and torn the tracks up good and proper. The French troops might move east, but they wouldn’t go by train, and with what Usman’s men had already done to the roads, they wouldn’t march at all during the rains.
“Colonel,” someone was saying, his voice carrying above the singing. “Colonel.”
That would be Smuts – he and his hundred Sotho troopers were the only ones to whom Usman’s British commission mattered. The Malê called him coronel or comandante, the Yoruba oba and the Fulani sidi; the Ilorin army didn’t stand on formality, and rank was a somewhat flexible concept. But someone in London remembered that Usman had worn the Widow’s clothes a generation before, and commissioned him again to clarify the chain of command for colonial troops.
“Colonel.” It was Smuts. “Can I sit at the old men’s table?”
Usman looked around at his companions – he would soon be fifty-two, and Simoes and Lami were even older – and patted the crate next to his with a smile. “By all means, Captain.”
I’ll have to start calling him Jan Pieter one of these days, or maybe not. Smuts had adapted to some Malê ways in the two months he’d been with the detachment, but he was still very correct, and was uncomfortable with any title more familiar than his rank. Usman suspected that part of the reason for this was to keep some distance between him and his black commander, but the two men had become easier now. Smuts had learned respect for the Sotho he’d commanded in Matabeleland, and he’d managed to transfer that to Usman; lately, when he said “colonel,” he sounded like he meant it.
I don’t have the heart to hold it against him anyway. Young Smuts was one of the army’s rare successes in putting a round peg in a round hole: he and his Sotho could fight the guerrilla the way Usman’s father had taught him, although they had a different name for it. The Sotho had fit in well to the mobile detachment – like the Malê, they’d knocked the British around a few times before joining the empire to make clear that they were joining on terms – and Smuts was a decent soul at heart…
“Feels like rain,” the Boer captain said, easing himself down. Usman nodded: he’d been feeling the oncoming rains himself for a few days, and if even a Boer could feel it now, it was past time to go before they found themselves stuck.
“We’ll pull out in the morning.” He waved down two of the scouts. “I’ll need you to ride out at first light and find the other detachments. Tell them to pull back to Niamey – we’ll regroup there.” He turned back to Smuts. “You’ll have your men ready?”
“Yes,” the captain answered. “Niamey, is it? That’ll be our quarters for the rains?”
“Probably. Unless they send us to Bornu, or to guard the north.” The main body of Ilorin’s army, like those of Sokoto and Adamawa, was trying to stop the French drive east through the Asante kingdom, and the northern marches were desperately short on troops.
Usman’s mind suddenly flashed back to another time he’d guarded a frontier, long before. “You know what would be good here?” he said. “A company or two of Sikhs. You won’t find better scouts anywhere, and their irregulars are better cavalry than I’ve seen anywhere outside the Fulani.”
Smuts gave a bark of laughter. He’d never served in the Sikh regiments, but the image of a troop of Sikh sowars added to the already-eclectic detachment appealed to him. “Wouldn’t that be a motley crew.”
“It would. Me most of all.” One question Smuts had never asked, but which Usman could see in his face every time they spoke, was what the Malê leader was doing here in the first place: why was he commanding irregulars behind the French lines rather than staying on as Ilorin’s prime minister, or at least commanding a brigade on the Asante front?
Some days Usman wasn’t sure himself. He’d wanted out of the house where he’d buried Mother Aisha four months earlier, and he’d wanted to be as far from it as possible, but that wasn’t all. It was time for the Abacarist party to separate itself from the Abacar family – Ilorin would never be a true republic until that happened – and he was tired of politics. Life in the field was cleaner, decisions more immediate, and an independent command cleanest of all…
“I wonder if it’s a sin,” he said.
“If what is?”
“If it’s a sin for a man who hates war and killing to like soldiering this much.”
The Boer officer considered. “I don’t know what’s sinful for you Mahometans, but if it is one, then I’ve got it too.” He looked around at the celebrating soldiers. “Pulaaku.”
Now it was Usman who barked out a surprised laugh. “Where’d you learn that word?” he asked. Pulaaku – the Fulani way of life, a chivalric code as intricate and demanding as any medieval knight’s. Why was it always that he returned to in times of crisis, after all he’d learned and all the places he’d traveled?
Because in times like this, you go back to what you learned first – to instinct. He’d learned pulaaku as a child, and it was his instinct; evidently, it was also that to Smuts.
Many of the people here were Fulani too, and they had little love for France; that had helped Usman’s men blend into the country several times. He wondered, for the first time, whether pulaaku might be the basis for a postwar settlement – if, after all this were over, all the lands of the Niger might not form a federation within the empire like Canada or the Australian colonies. “Pulaaku, yes,” he said. “That is no sin.”
He saw Simoes nodding slowly beside them. The man was seventy-seven, and by rights he should never have been allowed to rejoin the army, but he was one of the few men left who’d come all the way from the revolt in Brazil, and Usman hadn’t had the heart to turn away someone who’d marched with his father. Simoes might still pray to Olorun-Ulua and carry a black stone with him as his Kaaba; he might still speak creole Portuguese without shame; but he embodied pulaaku as much as any man alive.
“It’s for the best,” he said – a private Simoes might be, but his age and history entitled him to speak frankly to his commander, like a gentleman ranker might have done in Usman’s father’s youth. “Adeseye took your mother’s job as minister of education, and she’ll make sure the government stays in line. I can do more good here, and so can you. All of us.”
Smuts looked around again – at Malê and Fulani, Hausa and Sotho, officers black and white. “So we can,” he said. “But only in Africa.”
“True,” Usman answered. It was hard to imagine such a motley army serving in Europe, or him holding a British colonel’s rank there – but the news he heard from that front was bad, and the stories he’d heard of the trenches held terrors beyond a cavalry officer’s imagining. He laughed again suddenly. “I never thought I’d be grateful for the damned British class system.”
“Colonel?”
“If not for that, both of us might be on the Rhine with the expeditionary force, or in Bavaria. And my sons.” He blessed, for the thousandth time, the staff major who’d decided that Ibrahim and Paulo João were “young gentlemen” who ought to be officers, but that they’d never do to command British troops. Now the one was a lieutenant in India and the other a district officer in Tanganyika: both had their dangers, but at least they were nowhere near the German trenches.
Smuts dipped his head in understanding. He knew the story, and he knew the part Usman had played in the staff major’s decision-making: a part that his sons would never forgive him for if they ever learned of it, but one that would hopefully see them through the war alive.
“So it’s Niamey for the rains?”
“Unless they send us someplace else,” said Usman, and got up.
“Where are you going?” the Boer captain asked, half-rising himself. “It isn’t late yet.”
“I used to be a champion at the capoeira, and I think these men need some lessons. Stand up the rest of the way and come – you could stand to learn too.”
It was evening on the Niger, and the Boer and the Malê went to join the dance.
The Upper Niger
June 1893
The campfire burned low, and Usman Abacar, seated on an ammunition crate, looked deep into it searching for patterns. Jubilant troops were all around, lit by the flames; the night was alive with men dancing the capoeira and singing Fulani battle songs.
Usman had worried about that for a moment, but his detachment was well hidden and far from the French garrison, and there were sentry-posts to give warning if they hadn’t gone far enough. There would be no harm in celebrating, and there was plenty of reason. They’d taken the Frenchmen guarding the railroad by surprise and torn the tracks up good and proper. The French troops might move east, but they wouldn’t go by train, and with what Usman’s men had already done to the roads, they wouldn’t march at all during the rains.
“Colonel,” someone was saying, his voice carrying above the singing. “Colonel.”
That would be Smuts – he and his hundred Sotho troopers were the only ones to whom Usman’s British commission mattered. The Malê called him coronel or comandante, the Yoruba oba and the Fulani sidi; the Ilorin army didn’t stand on formality, and rank was a somewhat flexible concept. But someone in London remembered that Usman had worn the Widow’s clothes a generation before, and commissioned him again to clarify the chain of command for colonial troops.
“Colonel.” It was Smuts. “Can I sit at the old men’s table?”
Usman looked around at his companions – he would soon be fifty-two, and Simoes and Lami were even older – and patted the crate next to his with a smile. “By all means, Captain.”
I’ll have to start calling him Jan Pieter one of these days, or maybe not. Smuts had adapted to some Malê ways in the two months he’d been with the detachment, but he was still very correct, and was uncomfortable with any title more familiar than his rank. Usman suspected that part of the reason for this was to keep some distance between him and his black commander, but the two men had become easier now. Smuts had learned respect for the Sotho he’d commanded in Matabeleland, and he’d managed to transfer that to Usman; lately, when he said “colonel,” he sounded like he meant it.
I don’t have the heart to hold it against him anyway. Young Smuts was one of the army’s rare successes in putting a round peg in a round hole: he and his Sotho could fight the guerrilla the way Usman’s father had taught him, although they had a different name for it. The Sotho had fit in well to the mobile detachment – like the Malê, they’d knocked the British around a few times before joining the empire to make clear that they were joining on terms – and Smuts was a decent soul at heart…
“Feels like rain,” the Boer captain said, easing himself down. Usman nodded: he’d been feeling the oncoming rains himself for a few days, and if even a Boer could feel it now, it was past time to go before they found themselves stuck.
“We’ll pull out in the morning.” He waved down two of the scouts. “I’ll need you to ride out at first light and find the other detachments. Tell them to pull back to Niamey – we’ll regroup there.” He turned back to Smuts. “You’ll have your men ready?”
“Yes,” the captain answered. “Niamey, is it? That’ll be our quarters for the rains?”
“Probably. Unless they send us to Bornu, or to guard the north.” The main body of Ilorin’s army, like those of Sokoto and Adamawa, was trying to stop the French drive east through the Asante kingdom, and the northern marches were desperately short on troops.
Usman’s mind suddenly flashed back to another time he’d guarded a frontier, long before. “You know what would be good here?” he said. “A company or two of Sikhs. You won’t find better scouts anywhere, and their irregulars are better cavalry than I’ve seen anywhere outside the Fulani.”
Smuts gave a bark of laughter. He’d never served in the Sikh regiments, but the image of a troop of Sikh sowars added to the already-eclectic detachment appealed to him. “Wouldn’t that be a motley crew.”
“It would. Me most of all.” One question Smuts had never asked, but which Usman could see in his face every time they spoke, was what the Malê leader was doing here in the first place: why was he commanding irregulars behind the French lines rather than staying on as Ilorin’s prime minister, or at least commanding a brigade on the Asante front?
Some days Usman wasn’t sure himself. He’d wanted out of the house where he’d buried Mother Aisha four months earlier, and he’d wanted to be as far from it as possible, but that wasn’t all. It was time for the Abacarist party to separate itself from the Abacar family – Ilorin would never be a true republic until that happened – and he was tired of politics. Life in the field was cleaner, decisions more immediate, and an independent command cleanest of all…
“I wonder if it’s a sin,” he said.
“If what is?”
“If it’s a sin for a man who hates war and killing to like soldiering this much.”
The Boer officer considered. “I don’t know what’s sinful for you Mahometans, but if it is one, then I’ve got it too.” He looked around at the celebrating soldiers. “Pulaaku.”
Now it was Usman who barked out a surprised laugh. “Where’d you learn that word?” he asked. Pulaaku – the Fulani way of life, a chivalric code as intricate and demanding as any medieval knight’s. Why was it always that he returned to in times of crisis, after all he’d learned and all the places he’d traveled?
Because in times like this, you go back to what you learned first – to instinct. He’d learned pulaaku as a child, and it was his instinct; evidently, it was also that to Smuts.
Many of the people here were Fulani too, and they had little love for France; that had helped Usman’s men blend into the country several times. He wondered, for the first time, whether pulaaku might be the basis for a postwar settlement – if, after all this were over, all the lands of the Niger might not form a federation within the empire like Canada or the Australian colonies. “Pulaaku, yes,” he said. “That is no sin.”
He saw Simoes nodding slowly beside them. The man was seventy-seven, and by rights he should never have been allowed to rejoin the army, but he was one of the few men left who’d come all the way from the revolt in Brazil, and Usman hadn’t had the heart to turn away someone who’d marched with his father. Simoes might still pray to Olorun-Ulua and carry a black stone with him as his Kaaba; he might still speak creole Portuguese without shame; but he embodied pulaaku as much as any man alive.
“It’s for the best,” he said – a private Simoes might be, but his age and history entitled him to speak frankly to his commander, like a gentleman ranker might have done in Usman’s father’s youth. “Adeseye took your mother’s job as minister of education, and she’ll make sure the government stays in line. I can do more good here, and so can you. All of us.”
Smuts looked around again – at Malê and Fulani, Hausa and Sotho, officers black and white. “So we can,” he said. “But only in Africa.”
“True,” Usman answered. It was hard to imagine such a motley army serving in Europe, or him holding a British colonel’s rank there – but the news he heard from that front was bad, and the stories he’d heard of the trenches held terrors beyond a cavalry officer’s imagining. He laughed again suddenly. “I never thought I’d be grateful for the damned British class system.”
“Colonel?”
“If not for that, both of us might be on the Rhine with the expeditionary force, or in Bavaria. And my sons.” He blessed, for the thousandth time, the staff major who’d decided that Ibrahim and Paulo João were “young gentlemen” who ought to be officers, but that they’d never do to command British troops. Now the one was a lieutenant in India and the other a district officer in Tanganyika: both had their dangers, but at least they were nowhere near the German trenches.
Smuts dipped his head in understanding. He knew the story, and he knew the part Usman had played in the staff major’s decision-making: a part that his sons would never forgive him for if they ever learned of it, but one that would hopefully see them through the war alive.
“So it’s Niamey for the rains?”
“Unless they send us someplace else,” said Usman, and got up.
“Where are you going?” the Boer captain asked, half-rising himself. “It isn’t late yet.”
“I used to be a champion at the capoeira, and I think these men need some lessons. Stand up the rest of the way and come – you could stand to learn too.”
It was evening on the Niger, and the Boer and the Malê went to join the dance.
That's the best I could hope for the young Abacars--postings on fronts where African soldiers can fight on familiar terms, not the trenches of Europe. Usman of course is in more danger than he needs to be but he'd hardly be content to be safe in his capital with his sons exposed as they are.
I'm glad young Smuts is having this experience. He's not OTL's Slim Jannie, he's an ATL cousin I guess, but chances seem fair he'll be a mover and shaker in the British system in the future and it's good he's getting used to the idea of British subjects in Africa all working together. Of course in his lifetime, assuming he survives this war, he'll see a lot of British Africa leaving the Empire.
I wonder why he's leapfrogged so far north though, when I suppose that his South African home region is threatened by French and pro-French forces out of the Congo. And of course it's too early to know which way Portugal is going to lean, which would pose threats from both the northeast and northwest even closer to the British hegemony of South Africa.
But then I suppose German Southwest Africa is interposed between the Afrikaaner regions and most French-allied threats, so it was decided that reinforcing the northern holdings in West Africa was more important?
Especially if Portugal can be kept at least neutral if not openly pro-British. I'd think that aside from the position of Portugal as a whole in the context of the fortunes of the European war, the Anglo-German alliance would make short work of a hostile Angola and Mozambique even if the former managed to get some serious French reinforcement. The Boers and their German counterparts are fighting for their homes and have managed alliances with Native Africans. The Angolan peoples, I'd think, have had centuries to learn to accomodate to the Portuguese, but the Portuguese colonies will have nothing like the level of development of South Africa, and even if the French can manage to get some kind of convoys past the RN to Congo and Angola, they can hardly stop the British from keeping South Africa supplied and reinforced.
So things would have to look dark indeed, not just for the Anglo-German alliance as a whole but specifically for Britain before the Portuguese would dare throw in with France. Maybe if Spain were prematurely convinced to join France, and strongarmed Portugal to come along? But that's two governments that have to be convinced France is close enough to winning to justify the certain costs all but an utterly destroyed RN can inflict on both Iberian nations' overseas holdings.
I can imagine the fortunes of war might seesaw back and forth and there might be a time it looks like the French-led alliance is winning, particularly on land against Germany. But for the RN to be in bad enough shape to justify the risks for the Iberian powers, I'd think that the Franco-Austria-Russians would be winning indeed, a sweep across the board.
And I don't see that happening; a stalemate maybe but France cannot simultaneously deploy enough seapower to sink the RN and afford a land campaign to crush North Germany, even with lots of Austrian and Russian help in that latter enterprise. I don't think France's allies can possibly deploy enough seapower to do more than hold the British at bay off their own ports, if that.
So while there might be surprises in store for me, I can't see Southern Africa as a major front of the war; it will be just raids on both sides and the Anglo-British either just holding out there so they can send more forces to other fronts where they are needed (like West Africa) or eventually moving on whoever is still allied with France later in the war. Then Angola and Mozambique will be huge buffer zones, with the South African war being fought around them but not generally violating their neutrality.
I'm glad young Smuts is having this experience. He's not OTL's Slim Jannie, he's an ATL cousin I guess, but chances seem fair he'll be a mover and shaker in the British system in the future and it's good he's getting used to the idea of British subjects in Africa all working together. Of course in his lifetime, assuming he survives this war, he'll see a lot of British Africa leaving the Empire.
I wonder why he's leapfrogged so far north though, when I suppose that his South African home region is threatened by French and pro-French forces out of the Congo. And of course it's too early to know which way Portugal is going to lean, which would pose threats from both the northeast and northwest even closer to the British hegemony of South Africa.
But then I suppose German Southwest Africa is interposed between the Afrikaaner regions and most French-allied threats, so it was decided that reinforcing the northern holdings in West Africa was more important?
Especially if Portugal can be kept at least neutral if not openly pro-British. I'd think that aside from the position of Portugal as a whole in the context of the fortunes of the European war, the Anglo-German alliance would make short work of a hostile Angola and Mozambique even if the former managed to get some serious French reinforcement. The Boers and their German counterparts are fighting for their homes and have managed alliances with Native Africans. The Angolan peoples, I'd think, have had centuries to learn to accomodate to the Portuguese, but the Portuguese colonies will have nothing like the level of development of South Africa, and even if the French can manage to get some kind of convoys past the RN to Congo and Angola, they can hardly stop the British from keeping South Africa supplied and reinforced.
So things would have to look dark indeed, not just for the Anglo-German alliance as a whole but specifically for Britain before the Portuguese would dare throw in with France. Maybe if Spain were prematurely convinced to join France, and strongarmed Portugal to come along? But that's two governments that have to be convinced France is close enough to winning to justify the certain costs all but an utterly destroyed RN can inflict on both Iberian nations' overseas holdings.
I can imagine the fortunes of war might seesaw back and forth and there might be a time it looks like the French-led alliance is winning, particularly on land against Germany. But for the RN to be in bad enough shape to justify the risks for the Iberian powers, I'd think that the Franco-Austria-Russians would be winning indeed, a sweep across the board.
And I don't see that happening; a stalemate maybe but France cannot simultaneously deploy enough seapower to sink the RN and afford a land campaign to crush North Germany, even with lots of Austrian and Russian help in that latter enterprise. I don't think France's allies can possibly deploy enough seapower to do more than hold the British at bay off their own ports, if that.
So while there might be surprises in store for me, I can't see Southern Africa as a major front of the war; it will be just raids on both sides and the Anglo-British either just holding out there so they can send more forces to other fronts where they are needed (like West Africa) or eventually moving on whoever is still allied with France later in the war. Then Angola and Mozambique will be huge buffer zones, with the South African war being fought around them but not generally violating their neutrality.
The Ottomans are included in the North Germany-Britain alliance, IIRC.