Chapter 36: The Ottoman opposition
If one could have spoken of any kind of a common “vision” of the fragmented opposition during the final days of Abdülhamid II’s reign in summer 1905, it could not have been anything more than a vague wish for a restoration of constitutional monarchy where the sultan’s powers would be held in check. With no united front against the autocrat at home, the exiled opposition groups abroad had suffered from disunity and mutual mistrust ever since their formations in the previous decades. The members of opposition facts had different backgrounds, and they expressed their aims in different ways. Many had once studied in the most distinguished academies of the Empire, and these former students of Imperial Lycée, the War Academy, the Army Medical School and the Civil Service Academy were often dissatisfied to the slow pace of reforms mainly because they knew that under the old and corrupt regime they would never have a chance for a prosperous career and good life. As years went by and Abdülhamid II consolidated his power, the small opposition cliques remained mostly political discussion circles without any real agenda or plan of action. Attempts to close the ranks of the opposition groups into a unified anti-Hamidian front never bore fruit, and the latest attempt orchestrated by Prince Sabahaddin and Ahmed Riza had led to the most recent split in February 1902 when the Congress of Ottoman Liberals had met in Paris. While all participants had agreed upon the goal of the restoration of Ottoman constitution in principle, they had still departed from the meeting as two competing groups.

The differences of opinion towards the use of violence, the future role of the Ottoman army in the society and the possible reliance on Great Power intervention had divided the participants firmly into two camps. The supporters of the radical and pro-British Prince Sabahaddin had been able to reach a common ground with the Armenian representatives of the ARF. In their vision for the future the old decentralized Ottoman system of government was to be restored, so that local bodies would once again take care of the municipal and judicial affairs, and perform the tax collection based on local needs as well. The opponents of this approach were advocating the return of the constitution in a parliamentary framework while at the same time detesting the idea of foreign intervention as harmful to the unity and continued existence of the Empire. These forces were now rallying under the banner of Ahmed Riza. He was a man of the old system and conservative at heart, and supported the existing Ottoman political and social order of the Tanzimat era, merely hoping that the Sultan would ultimately democratize his administration and rid his bureaucracy from rampart corruption.

But while the Sabahaddin group had since then continued to propagate his message among the Ottoman exiles and Ahmed Riza had sought to expand his conspirational network to Rumelia and the Ottoman capital[1], the Armenian revolutionaries had chosen the most radical and confrontational approach with their assassination plan. Now the Sultan was dead, anti-Armenian violence ravaged Anatolia and major cities of the Empire, and the Western powers had finally intervened to Ottoman affairs just as the Armenian terrorists had planned - but to the dismay of ARF, their attention was now firmly fixed to Macedonia, while the Armenian reforms were clearly becoming a secondary issue compared to the Eastern Question.

With the death of Abdülhamid II, the leaders of the émigré movement, as well as those exiled within the empire, had hastily returned from their exiles to a heroes’ welcome. Yet by autumn 1905 the situation in the country was still firmly under control of the old elites and the former advisors of the Sultan. Age and seniority were important preconditions for authority in Ottoman society and the would-be revolutionaries and conspirators, being for the most part captains and majors or minor bureaucrats in their late twenties and early thirties, had neither. The secret society known as the Fatherland and Liberty[2], lacking a definable political programme for the new situation, therefore chose to leave politics in the hands of the existing cabinet and to those willing to organize new parties. In the meantime it sought to set itself up as a shadowy guardian of the new liberty with a self-imposed mission to guard the constitutional freedom, interfering in politics whenever it saw fit.

Once the news of upcoming reforms had sunk in in the Empire (this took some time because the first announcement in the capital was an unobtrusive, three-line item in the newspapers announcing new elections), public reaction in Istanbul and Asia was similar to that in Macedonia – tremendous joy and relief, with people from all walks of life and every community, Muslim, Jewish and Christian alike, filled with unrealistic expectations about the future and hope that the current turmoil and religious strife would finally end. The freedom of thought, of expression and of association declared by the government had surprising early effect: widespread labour unrest. Workers in major cities demanded wage rises to compensate for rising prices (inflation was a staggering 20 per cent in the first two months after the intervention to Macedonia), and when their demands were not met a wave of strikes swept across the empire: there were more than 100 in six months. The government, which had at first been content for the public to let off steam in political demonstrations, was alarmed by the strikes and reacted by enacting labour legislation that banned trade unions in the public sector, introduced compulsory arbitration and thus made further strike action extremely difficult. This legislation effectively suppressed the labour movement, and there were hardly any strikes during the spring 1906 and the upcoming elections.

The last elections in the Empire, the 1877–78 parliamentary elections, had been held in accordance with the provisional electoral regulations that stipulated the election of deputies by administrative councils in the provinces. A new election law that had been drafted in the same Parliament but never ratified was now taken as the basis of the 1906 elections.[3] It stipulated two-stage balloting in which every tax-paying male Ottoman citizen above the age twenty-five was entitled to vote in a primary election to select secondary voters. Secondary voters, each elected by 500 to 750 primary voters, then voted to determine the member(s) of the Chamber in the numbers specified for a particular electoral district, the sancak. The law did not make special quota arrangements for the religious or sectarian communities. Each voter was to vote as an Ottoman citizen for deputies representing not a particular community, but all Ottomans. This was the theory.

In practice, plethora of ethnic-based cultural and political clubs emerged as soon as it became clear that their existence would now be tolerated in the name of freedom of association. Among the newly formed societies were the Greek Political Club (Rum Siyasi Kulübü), the Serbian-Ottoman Club (Sırp-Osmanlı Kulübü), the Armenian Dashnak (Federation), the Bulgarian Club, the Jewish Youth Club (Musevi Gençler Kulübü), the Lovers of Anatolia (Anadolu Muhibleri), the Albanian Bashkim (Union), and the Kurdish Mutual Aid Society (Kürt Teâvün Kulübü). The minorities of the Empire were not the only political factions that became active in the first real election campaign in a generation. The exiled opposition forces begun to assemble their own political parties to promote their visions for the future of the Ottoman Empire. Prince Sabahattin organized the Ottoman Liberal Union Party (Osmanli Ahrar Firkasi), while the more conservative opposition members who did not share the decentralized and pro-minority visions of Sabahattin created the Ottoman Democratic Party (Osmanli Democrat Firkasi) under the leadership of men like Celal Nuri, Ibrahim Temo, Abdullah Cevdet and Ahmet Muhtar.


But the modernist exiles were far from alone in their plans. A dervish named Hafiz Dervis Havdeti, member of the influential Bektasi order, was also deeply concerned about the future of his homeland, and together with his supporters he established the new Society of Islamic Unity (Ittihad-i Muhammedi Cemiyeti) around the newspaper Volkan. Declaring the intention to establish a regime that would fulfill the basic duties of Islamic government, it called all pious Muslims to rally to defense of Islamic law and the basic practices of Islam, spread the light of the Divine Unity throughout the empire, and free Muslims all over the world from the tyranny of non-Muslim oppression. On April 3rd, 1906, the birthday of the Prophet, the society held its first mass meeting at the Aya Sofya mosque. Vahdeti stated to cheering crowds that Muslims had the same rights as non-Muslims to defend their ideals and rights. As both modernist parties started to organize their own rallies together with the various national clubs, the Ottoman elections of 1906 seemed poised to become much more tightly contested event that it had been initially estimated.

1:
Mehmed Talaat Pasha is a postal clerk in Edirne. He's a family man, happily married to a Jewish girl he dated when he was 21, being never caught and arrested for sending an illegal telegram as per OTL. As a result he's not part of the conspiracies of TTL, and the secret organization goes along with a different name.
2: This group has most support among the younger officers of the 5th Army in Damascus - Mustafa Kemal Pasha was still planning his transfer to Macedonia when Abdülhamid II was assassinated TTL. Many activist officers who joined CUP in OTL have thus joined to the Savior Officers movement in TTL.
3. In OTL the same law formed the basis of 1908 elections.

 
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How is the Arab national sentiments. Do they have similar gatherings that Greeks, Serbs etc has? I was thinking of something similar to Al-Fatat, either in Paris or within the Ottoman empire.


I know that the Al-Fatat movement was very limited in regards to the number of members but the changed political climate in the Ottoman Empire might make create an earlier, and larger movement.
 
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How is the Arab national sentiments. Do they have similar gatherings that Greeks, Serbs etc has? I was thinking of something similar to Al-Fatat, either in Paris or within the Ottoman empire.

I know that the Al-Fatat movement was very limited in regards to the number of members but the changed political climate in the Ottoman Empire might make create an earlier, and larger movement.

Early in the second constitutional period in OTL the calls for Arab autonomy and independence came from outside the empire, and failed to find enthusiastic reception among the Arabs. By the end of the nineteenth century Arab political organizations were primarily interested in the unity of Syria within the Ottoman Empire. Until the 1906 elections Arabs have not constituted a faction in themselves whose interests were deemed serious enough to be accorded with special consideration in any governmental program of action. Unlike the Armenians, and even the predominantly Muslim Albanians, who now support the decentralist movement led by Sabahaddin, the Arabs in TTL do not identify clearly with any single emerging trend of Ottoman political life. Instead they are currently more divided in their political outlook compared to other nationalities in the Empire due the earlier policies of Abdülhamid II.

Also: 50 000 views, not bad at all.

 
Chapter 37: the new HALİFE and the Ottoman elections 1906
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As the Ottoman Liberal Union Party, Ottoman Democratic Party, Society of Islamic Unity and other nascent political forces in the Empire started their first campaigns for the 1906 elections, the crowds that gathered to listen to political speeches through the streets of the capitol, Izmir, Jerusalem, Damascus and other towns of the empire felt that they were witnessing a beginning of a new era in Ottoman public life. The restoration of the old Tanzimat constitution had indeed pawed the way for the fast creation of a lively public sphere that was further expanded by the appearance of several new newspapers and journals, social clubs, and political organizations. Tellallar,the town criers who brought the news to far-off places and to the vast majority of the illiterate population were busy during the winter months.

Amidst the hectic campaigning only the most keen foreign observers most accustomed to Ottoman politics reminded their colleagues about the fact that the autocracy of Abdülhamid II had been toppled by a sudden regicide, without a massive domestic opposition movement or widespread expressions of discontent within the empire. Therefore they predicted that what superficially looked like a liberal restoration was in essence a carefully orchestrated facade set up by a small group of former high-ranking government officials allied by smaller cliques of conspiring and ambitious younger military officers from the Balkans. These forces now in control of the Ottoman state harboured a quintessentially conservative aim: to seize the control of the empire and save it from collapse. Since ruling a fragile, threatened multinational empire required flexibility and adaptability towards the constituent peoples and emerging political factions, the new government had so far acted without overriding consensus on their policy towards the non-Turkish subjects,using different orientation towards different constituencies on a case-by-case basis. The same approach marked their tactics in the election campaign of 1906.

Article 72 of the Ottoman Constitution stipulated that deputies had to be “from the people” of the province they ran in, but neither the constitution nor the electoral law laid down specific residency requirements. Thus, while officials appointed from the capitol and coming from outside the province they were tasked to represent could be elected by virtue of being current inhabitants of that province, individuals living in the capital or elsewhere could also be nominated and elected from provinces where they no longer resided but had family roots.The government utilized this vague legal position for maximum effect, and as a result of their superior resources and control of the telegraph system and state-owned media, they were easily able to dictate the course of the election campaign and achieve solid majority.

The socioeconomic composition of the new Chamber was remarkably similar to that of the 1877–78 Parliament, partly because the support for the ruling government tended to coincide with local social prominence, and partly because the two-stage balloting favored the election of notables. Even though franchise requirements were liberal in primary voting, patronage-based social and political relationships in the countryside usually resulted in the election of landowners. In the second stage, these electors then exercised their choice for a candidate representing their social group. The contingent of secondary electors was also in most cases small enough to be easily manipulated by powerful candidates or government officials. The new Chamber of Deputies was thus dominated by middle-class representatives.

Politically the main themes of the 1906 elections had been the future course of the empire. The traditional Ottomanist reform programs that proposed a shared citizenship made up of diverse people peoples united in their allegiance to the empire had gained a lot of support through the political spectrum, but during the campaign it had also become increasingly clear that Ottomanism meant totally different things for different voters. For proponents of Turkish nationalism, Ottomanism was seen primarily as a program of assimilation that was to be achieved by establishing Ottoman Turkish as the official lingua franca of the empire, ending the privileges of the various millets, and by centralizing the state apparatus. For the minorities Ottomanism represented a promise of recognition of their different languages and identities within the imperial framework, supported by further strengthening of the millet system and decentralization of the imperial economy.

Minority parties failed to gain strong support during the elections. The reasons were simple - despite the strong-worded campaigns of various nationalist clubs and the widespread unrest in Anatolia and Macedonia, the minority voters in the empire did not automatically vote according to their ethnic or religious background.[1] In addition the minorities were further divided among themselves. Armenians were perhaps the worst example in this regard. The influential Armenian Apostolic church remained suspicious and outright hostile towards the radical militant parties, while the peasants in Anatolia felt that their urban kin cared little about their woes. The Protestant and Catholic Armenians maintained their distance from the Apostolic Armenians, and the radical militant parties competed for support among the Armenian intelligentsia.Moderate Armenians had formed the new Armenian Constitutional Democratic Party with a distinctly liberal agenda, further dividing the Armenian vote. Supported by wealthy urban Armenians, the new party rejected the idea of independence and separation of Armenian territories, and instead called for internal reforms: the abolition of Kurdish Hamidiye regiments, the end to Kurdish exploitation and abuse of Armenian peasantry, return of seized land, and improved judicial institutions. As a reaction to this liberal challenge and the changed political situation within the empire the Dashnaks also officially recognized the territorial integrity of the empire - provided that administrative autonomy of Armenian regions would be guaranteed and respected. Their new ten-point “Platform” took the stance supporting “Armenia as inalienable part of the empire, reorganized in accordance with the principle of decentralization." Even the militant Hnchak party moderated its position, declaring that they would now work within the constitutional structure and avoid revolutionary activity.

But no matter what policies the Armenian parties adopted, they could not avoid suspicion among the Muslim population about their ultimate goals. But the new situation was not all bad for the minorities, as some of them had their own success stories. Upon the opening of the new Parliament many of the Arab deputies joined a society called the Arab-Ottoman Brotherhood (Al-ikha’ al-‘arabi al-‘uthmani, or Uhuvvet-i Arabiyye-i Osmaniye), which had been formed in Septemberand had welcomed the Arab deputies to the capital with a big reception. For the Arab deputies the Al-ikha’ served a dual purpose. On the one hand, it constituted an extension of the societies that Arabs, mainly students, had formed in the capital before the restoration in order to promote contacts among the Arabs living there. On the other hand, its founders, who had been officials in the Hamidian regime, hoped to preserve their status “by presenting themselves as the protectors of Arab interests in the empire by developing an Arab coalition that would collectively work toward the achievement of Ottoman unity.

After the grand ceremonies and the reopening of the new Parliament, the new government quickly forced through measures and new legislation that aimed to prevent the return of autocracy. By imperial decree, the clauses in the 1876 Constitution that had made possible the abrogation of that charter were revoked, finally establishing at least some kind of system of checks and balances between the legislature and the executive. The Grand Vizier acquired the right to appoint the cabinet, even though the religious prerogatives of the sultan as Caliph of the Faithful were left untouched. At the same time the interregnum in the Ottoman Empire finally ended, as a new Sultan emerged to public life during his opening speech of the new Parliament.

Suspicious of the common people as well as their new elected representatives in the Parliament, the government in power consisted neither from liberals nor democrats. They were old and experienced plotters and cream of the Hamidian elite. While they now claimed to rule in the name of the people and took careful steps to they maintain the democratic facade with the new Parliament and elections, they were primarily interested in holding on to power and preserving the Empire. While it was still unclear in 1906 what ideological formulations would have to be used to win enough public support and provide critical amount of legitimacy to the government at home and overseas, the pashas had agreed among themselves that they would never allow the Sultan to gain the kind of dictatorial powers Abdülhamid II had wielded. The new Sultan had to know his place and focus on his role as a religious leader and popular figurehead. Having a free reign in the internal matters of state, the pashas also pressed through a long sought-after reform in the imperial life by changing the centuries-old succession laws of the House of Osman to primogeniture succession. Mehmed V, the new HALİFE emerging from the isolated confinement of the Topkapi Palace - the legendary "Gilded Cage" that had driven several would-be heirs to lunacy - was thus Mehmet Selim Efendi, the eldest son of Abdülhamid II.

1: As per OTL.
 
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Chapter 38: Haliskar Zabitan
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While the Ottoman masses voted and enjoyed their new-found freedoms to speak out and assemble, the new power structures holding the actual control of the tumultuous Ottoman Empire sought to settle their internal affairs and differences during the quiet winter months of 1906. The Saviour Officers movement, Haliskar Zabitan, played a key part in the intrigues that sought to determine the role of the Ottoman armed forces in the post-Hamidian life of the realm. The group that had been originally established itself as a clandestine anti-government conspiracy consisted of low-ranking officers based mainly in the Ottoman capitol, with a secondary base of power in European vilayets. After the Western powers started their monitoring mission in Macedonia, the plotters were secretly approached by high-ranking representatives of the Ottoman Army, and soon the conspirators had found a common cause with Ahmed Izzed Pasha.

Soon after the elections of 1906 and the inauguration of the new parliament, the government introduced a bill into parliament with a revised military code that included strict separation of military and political roles of standing officers. The situation in the Empire in the post-Hamidian political turmoil clearly required such a move, as many prominent army officers currently combined non-comitant political activities with their military duties. While perfectly in tune with the clauses of the Ottoman constitution, the new bill was a thinly-veiled attack against the privileges and position of the old guard alaylı officers. When these old men the late Sultan had lifted to their comfortable positions and high ranks protested, the Haliskar Zabitan emerged from the shadows. Several Ottoman military units, namely the Albanian palace guard in the capitol, made public statements where they vowed to defend the new freedom and threatened to march to the streets and depose every high-ranking officer who defied the Constitution and the will of the Parliament. The gamble of the Albanian pashas caused a governmental crisis, but ultimately it paid off.
Ahmed Izzet Pasha consolidated his earlier temporary post as the new Ottoman Chief of Staff, and together with the new Minister of War, Mahmud Muhtar Pasha[1], he proceeded to peacefully purge the upper ranks of the Ottoman military by sending dozens of the oldest alaylı generals and several field marshals to retirement.

As a result of the threats of mutinies orchestrated by the Haliskar Zabitan, the bill that had already passed in the Parliament with a clear majority was thus effectively enforced, and soon accompanied with wider reforms in the Ottoman military command structure. The Ottoman Ministry of War (Harbiye Nezareti), was a young institution. It had been established only 6 years earlier, in 1900 as a replacement of the antiquated Headquarters of the Commander in Chief (Babi Seraskeri) system. The most important immediate impact that the Ministry of War had had on the Ottoman Army had been the appointment of the army's Chief of Staff, (Erkani Harbiye Umumiye Reisi.) While Ministers had been rotated in and out of office rather often by Abdülhamid II, the Chief of Staff had been traditionally able to retain his office as a non-political position. Now the new War Minister Mahmud Muhtar Pasha sought to consolidate the position of his ministry further by naming a new Chief of Staff (Ahmed Izzet Pasha) and by simultaneously removing one of the major grievances of Ottoman officer corps: the system of two competing General Staffs.


The Erkani Harbiye, Ottoman General Staff, was originally created as a part of earlier Ottoman military reforms of late 19th century to perform traditional general staff functions, such as administration, staff studies, war and mobilization planning, and logistics. But as a part of these reforms Sultan Abdülhamid II had also created another, personal General Staff to his court. The court General Staff (Maiyeti Seniyye Erkani Harbiye) had been originally created as a "mechanism for the sultan to convey his wishes into the military structure." In reality it had been an organization that enabled the Sultan to divide the officer corps into two opposite camps. With overlapping functions, this parallel command system had created endless competition, confusion and anxiety. The fact that the new War Minister was able to press through with this reform owed much to the prestige of the new Grand Vizier, who also happened to be the father of the new War Minister. Gazi Ahmed Muhtar Pasha was one of the most respected Ottoman elder statesmen and generals, hero of the previous war against Russia. His new cabinet included the former Grand Vizier Mehmed Ferid Pasha and two other former grand viziers, the venerable Mehmed Kâmil Pasha and Hüseyin Hilmi Pasha, the inspector-General of Rumelia. The new cabinet was led by the old guard of Tanzimat-era reformers and supported by alliance of minorities and ambitious younger middle-class officers and bureaucrats. The initial reforms in the military department were part of a conscious policy with a dual aim of removing or neutralizing the supporters of the old Hamidiyan system, and turning the younger educated cadres of the mektepli officers into reliable supporters and partisans of the new regime. It was also a clear signal to the outside world: the long slumber of the "Sick Man of Europe" was over.


1: In OTL he became the Minister of Navy in 1910.
 
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I wonder what Kemal will get up to in this timeline? He seems like too good a character to waste.

At this time he's young officer with the rank of Kurmay Yüzbaşı. Shorty after his graduation from the Imperial Military Staff College on 11th of January, 1905 he was arrested, and spent months in prison because of his anti-Hamidian views. After his former teacher Rıza Pasha intervened for his behalf, he was sent to Damascus, and he had just arrived to his first post and established contacts with the conspirators of Vatan ve Hürriyet when Abdülhamid II was assassinated. In TTL this smaller group has most likely been absorbed by the Saviour Officers movement - a grouping whose constitutional and pro-military patriotic views are much closer to the worldview of young Kemal compared to the OTL's CUP and their radical and contradictory ideas.

By spring 1907 he is about to be promoted to the rank of Kolağası, and as a young and talented mektepli with a history of opposition to the Hamidian regime he has rather promising career prospects ahead of him.
 
Chapter 39: The Bureaucrat, the General and the Diplomat
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The Bureaucrat, the General and the Diplomat - the three men who had assumed the reins of the Russian Empire nominally led by the autocracy of Czar Nicholas II during the first years of the new century represented the three most powerful factions in the complex and hierarchical Russian state. When they gathered to celebrate the New Year at St.Petersburg on 1st of January 1907 (14th of January in New Style), their discussions about the recent events in Ottoman Empire focused on the same two strategic problems their predecessors had pondered a century earlier. The command of the Black Sea, and the defense of the Caucasian frontier. But the nature of these problems had rapidly changed during the hectic year that had followed the assassination of Abdülhamid II. In the previous century the Straits Question had been mainly a strategic and political problem that the Czars of the past had repeatedly sought to solve with military means without success. Since then the Straits had gained tremendous economic importance to Russia, and unlike earlier Russian leaders felt that they were running out of time. While in 1897 Count Muraviev had reminted his new Ambassador in Constantinople, I.A.Zinoviev, that while he should not lose sight of the extreme importance of the Straits and the ‘great mission’ Russia had in the Near East, the issue would have to be ‘postponed until Russia was in a position to concentrate all her energies upon it’, now things were markedly different. War Minister Kuropatkin was typically straightforward: to him, seizure of the Bosporus was “the most important task Russia faces in the twentieth century’, and to him the joint Great Power intervention to Macedonia was just a diversion from the ultimate goal of Russian foreign policy in the Balkans. Count Witte considered unilateral Russian military action here inconceivable outside the context of a general European war, and emphasized that he thought that such a war would be disastrous to Russia considering her current imperial commitments and internal political and economic difficulties. To make matters worse, the Straits were already extremely vital to Russian economy while they remained outside of her direct control.

In his blunt and typical style Witte lectured his two key allies about the economic realities of the Russian Empire. According to Witte, the question of Straits was strongly entwined to the prospects of Russian industrialization:
If Russia wanted to elevate herself from the status of a semi-colonial appendage of Europe to a truly Great Power, she had to first transform her economy from a backward agrarian country to a modern industrial one. This required foreign capital, and its main source was France, the sole Major Power ally of Russia. And in order to get loans from Paris Russian economy had to remain stable. And to remain stable, the economy had to maintain positive foreign trade account. And in order to maintain a positive foreign trade account, Russia had to export her chief marketable resource: grain. Grain comprised about a half of all Russian export, and between 75-90% of all annually exported grain was shipped through the Straits. With tolls and customs cutting down the prospects of expanding Russian share in German and Austrian grain markets, western European and British markets became increasingly important targets for Russian grain trade. And as grain flowed out, foreign-made modern machinery for growing Russian metallurgical and extractive industries in Ukraine and Caucasus was shipped in. The total volume of shipping passing through the Straits kept growing by the year. With almost a third of the whole population of the empire concentration around the quickly developing Black Sea basin region, the Russian leadership pondered now their options based on their views on the situation.

To solve the matter peacefully, Count Muraviev preferred an agreement with either Austria-Hungary, Porte itself, or preferably both. If Vienna could be kept on the good side of Russia, Austrians could in turn keep their increasingly ambitious German allies from intervening to the matter. Meanwhile the new Ottoman government seemed more reasonable than the elusive Red Sultan, and could perhaps be persuaded - or threatened - to allow Russian warships free passage through the Straits. Witte disagreed, and noted that the Hapsburgs were untrustworthy allies in this matter, and that despite their talk about reforms and pressure towards the Porte in the question of Macedonia, they would never jeopardize their alliance with Berlin to decisively support Russia in a major international crisis no matter what Russia promised them. Witte hoped that a bargain with Britain could settle the matter, and lamented the fact that the new Chamberlain government had preferred to bolster the Anglo-Japanese alliance rather than sought a comprehensive agreement with St. Petersburg. He blamed the recent Russian pivots to Persia, Tibet, Afghanistan and Northern China for increasing the hostility of Britain for no real gains for Russia, thus pushing her away from a mutually beneficial bargain regarding the future of the Straits.

Kuropatkin was opposed to both viewpoints. He supported the hawkish views of the Russian Admiralty that had for decades called for swift rush to "Tsargrad" on the first possible opportunity, and once again expressed his full support to their grandiose plans of an outright conquest of the Straits in any situation where they would be shut down. The Admiralty hawks, like the royal uncles of Nicholas II took full advantage of the fact that mariniste geopolitical doctrines were popular among all European leaders of the era. To Russian navalists it was obvious that Russia had to have a Great Fleet if she wished to be treated a truly Great Power in the future. With a powerful navy of her own she could at the same time protect her vital trade routes overseas, and dominate the balance of sea-power between Britain and Germany. This situation would then force both London and Berlin to court Russia and treat her with respect she deserved. But as so often in the courts of Czarist Russia, the grandiose plans and tall talk bore little resemblance to the actual reality. In 1905 the Russian Black Sea Fleet, guardian of her most vulnerable shipping lines, constituted of six outdated battleships, three equally obsolete cruisers and a group of smaller, equally old vessels. The available bases and the available naval yards at Nikolaevsk were rather small considering the scale of naval expansion that the promoters of Russian sea-power envisioned. Luckily for promoters of Russian naval expansionism, the Royal Navy had recently introduced a new type of battleship. The appearance of HMS Dreadnought was widely internationally recognized as a new standard of battleship design, further stressing the need of Russian naval expansion. As Kuropatkin ultimately convinced Witte about the fact that the grain shipping had to be guarded with a fleet that would be "worthy of respect at home and abroad", Count Muraviev had to comply to the wishes of the rest of the triumvirate. To counter the threats and suspicion Russian naval expansion plans would undoubtedly raise in other Major Powers, he stated that he would seek a new, deeper understanding with Austria while using the support of France to counter possible German opposition to expanded Black Sea Fleet.

What worried every member of the triumvirate the most was the rapid development of German interests in the region. So far they had sought to prolong the backwardness and isolation of the eastern Anatolian highlands as a natural defensive buffer covering the recently conquered and volatile Transcaucasus region in the hopes that the lack of good infrastructure would also act as a barrier to foreign economic competition in northern Persia that was viewed as a key to the future economic penetration of the Levant. So far the Germans had declined to conclude formal agreements with Russia, but had nevertheless persuaded the Ottoman regime to direct the route of the new Anatolian Railway southwards, away from the Russian frontiers and the Black Sea coast. Ambassador Zinoviev had then quickly obtained the Sultan’s agreement not to grant further railway construction concessions to foreign powers north of a line between Kaiseri, Diarbekir, Sivas and Kharput. With the threat of foreign railways thus seemingly averted and spheres of interests in the Far East with Japan mutually settled, the Russian leadership had debated about the Eastern Question while focusing to the other, more pressing perceived challenges to their current interests in the Ottoman Empire. Before the assassination of Abdülhamid II these had been mainly identified growth of German economic activity and upsurge of unrest and terrorism in Ottoman Macedonia. But the death of the Sultan had rendered his personal promises about railway construction meaningless, while the recent violence in Armenian vilayets had drawn in the attention of Major Powers, accompanied by Armenian pleas for improved infrastructure - such as new railroads. The Armenian diaspora and the Tatars were already in a state of a small-scale civil war in Caucasus, and Armenian terrorist groups were increasing their attacks against Russian authorities as a response to the new Russification policies. The Russian answer to these new threats to their position in the region was threefold: the diplomats would seek new allies and strike hard bargains whenever possible to defend the interests of Russia whenever it was threatened. They would also engage the French in renewed negotiations about military loans. The bureaucrats would seek to restore order in Transcaucasus and keep the economy afloat and growing to keep the French from worrying about the fate of their financial commitments.

And the military would prepare for the worst, seeking to bolster the prestige and weight of Russian diplomacy and the security of her growing economy. The costs involved were enormous, and the new naval plans took lion's share of the allocated funds. In 1907 Czar Nicholas II approved a grand new naval plan that called for eight new battleships with the estimated total cost of 660 200 000 rubles - five to the Baltic (412 625 000 rubles) and three to the Black Sea (247 575 000 rubles) supported by thirteen destroyers and six submarines (70 000 000 rubles).[1] The total costs of new battleships - 82 525 000 rubles per ship[2] - were estimated to be extremely high, since their construction required the expansion of existing naval yards and imports of foreign technology and expertise. The ultimate goal of the Russian naval program - widely called by the unofficial name "Straits Program" was to create a situation where Russia would be able to concentrate 11 battleships and supporting fleet to the Aegean by 1913.[3]

1: Costs are from OTL plans that were undertaken in 1913 - without revolutionary upheavals and the war against Japan, the plans don't suffer from the OTL 6-year delay.

2: OTL Гангут-class ship cost apprx. 29 million rubles a-piece.

3: In OTL the plan called for the same amount of ships, but the target year was 1919. Here the Russian naval expansion plan is started six years earlier, and the timetable is thus six years shorter as well.
 
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I really like these frequent updates.


While the fleet upgrading is directed towards the straits, is there a risk that Japan becomes threatened again. While the size of the pacific fleet would remain steady I assume that there would some kind of irritation in Tokyo.
 
Chapter 40: The Kurdish Question
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Kurdish tribal confederations and Armenian and Syriac minority regions north from Mosul in 1906.


I seek refuge with Allah from Satan, the accursed.

In the name of Allah the Compassionate, the Merciful!

O Lord of all Creatures! O Allah!

Destroy the infidels and polytheists, thine enemies, the enemies of the religion!

O Allah! Make their children orphans, and defile their abodes!

Cause their feet to slip; give them and their families,

their households and their women, their children and their relations by marriage,

their brothers and their friends, their possessions and their kin,

their wealth and their lands, as booty to the Moslems, O Lord of all Creatures!


After the elections of 1906, constitutionalism and parliamentarism appeared to be winning out in most unexpected of places - in the Ottoman Empire. Finally, it seemed, positive change was on the way. But as the fate of the “Agrarian Question” that the new Ottoman government sought to address after securing their hold to power in the Empire soon showed, there was only so much even a determined government could do in the face of overwhelming odds and deep-rooted structural problems. Suspicious of the common people as well as their elected representatives in the Parliament, the new government in power acted neither as liberals or democrats. They claimed to rule in the name of the people, and they maintained the democratic facade of Parliament and elections even as they sought to re-establish the government control in all walks of life. Interested in holding on to power and preserving the Empire, they had to work out how that might be accomplished without tearing the whole system down with an over-ambitious reform program. What ideological formulations might be used to win support and provide legitimacy to the new government was a contested question that was far from being resolved by 1906, when events beyond the government control soon begun to shape the future course of Ottoman politics.

Despite its name, the Agrarian Question was not about land reform, nor about promotion of agricultural productivity. It was an euphemism for Armenian lands usurped during the previous decades by Kurdish tribal chiefs. The matter had turned into a full-blown problem during the last years of the reign Abdülhamid II. The roots of the problem lay in the weak and strenuous control that the Ottoman state wielded in the restless Anatolian frontier. To the most powerful local groups, the nomadic and semi-nomadic Kurdish tribes, land use was traditionally viewed as an association between the tribe and a particular territory. According to the time-honored traditions of the tribal confederations, targets for usury were chosen for their weakness and inability to resist, and as a consequence Christians and Muslims alike suffered from these forays.

The life of local peasants would have been miserable even without the marauding Kurds - the ever-growing importance of agricultural products in the struggling Ottoman economy had led to a system where an Anatolian peasant received only 33 percent share of his crop in 1900. These taxes were equally harsh for Muslims and Christians alike, but the additional taxes imposed upon rural Armenians included a capitulation tax, for the right to live for year to year, and a tax in lieu of military service imposed on all males from three months old and above. Often a minor government official would pay a specified fee up front for the right to collect as much taxes as could be squeezed from the inhabitants of a particular region. Endemic corruption ensured that after every higher-ranking official had received their cut from these deals, little money remained for infrastructure improvements or even the official salaries of civil administrators. This in turn more or less forced the officials to keep on collecting these 'fees'.

The new regime sought to address the matter that was so important to European onlookers and to its Armenian constituents. The restoration of lands usurped by Kurdish aghas over the preceding years was one of the most important Armenian claims presented in the new Parliament. A number of Kurdish peasants had also lost their lands to the aghas of rival tribes, and also fought for their restoration. Under the watchful eyes of the Western powers, orders begun to emanate from the capital for the eviction of Kurdish chiefs from the Armenian villages in which they had illegally settled. For foreign observers central government and many local governors appeared to be determined on bringing about a just resolution, but soon the sheer complexity of the matter forced them to pause.

Determining what lands had actually been occupied illegally was hard, as many areas had been acquired through what appeared to be completely legal means. In addition the traditional Islamic law made Christians inadmissible as witnesses in courts of law, which further encouraged the lawlessness in the region. Driving the Kurdish tribes from lands on which they had settled and farmed for decades by now was simply not a practical option anymore. At the same time, the government could ill afford to leave the dispossessed Armenian and Kurdish peasants completely without compensation. The numerous complexities surrounding the Agrarian Question were thus proving to be overwhelming.

The traditional Ottoman policies of the central administration in Anatolia had always been to pacify and civilize the nomadic Kurdish and Turkic tribes. Control over them had been sought with a variety of means, mainly through military conscription and education of young sons of the most prominent chieftains combined with punitive military expeditions against those tribes who refused to submit. Breaking the power of leading tribal chiefs, many of whom had built extensive networks of influence to the local bureaucracy during the Hamidian era soon proved extremely hard. The Kurdish aghas felt intimidated by government attempts to confiscate their land wealth, conscript their militias to the official army and make them pay taxes. They knew very well that if the government would repossess their lands it would also take away much of their power, and would also turn their tribespeople to farmers by redistributing the confiscated lands to them. The Agrarian Question was thus intimately tied to the government’s attempts to control the Kurdish chiefs and at the same time to guarantee their support at a precarious moment when the territorial integrity of the whole Empire was being threatened. The Kurds were viewed as a group that could cause problems through an internal rebellion or by allying themselves with the Russians.

The fear of Russian influence in Anatolia was not mere paranoia, since retaining dual subjecthood was quite common among the Muslim refugees from Caucasus. The Russian government relinquished its Muslim subjects only with great difficulty, while the Ottoman government granted subjecthood to incoming Muslim refugees and immigrants quickly and easily. This meant that by 1900 a large group of Muslim immigrants were de facto subjects of two empires at the same time. As subjects of Russia, these people were protected by the special rights granted by the capitulation treaties - and the Russian authorities were quite eager to support and uphold the Russian subjecthood of these individuals in every situation where they were in trouble with Ottoman law. By 1906 the events in southern Caucasus were about to turn this legally ambiguous situation in the Russo-Ottoman borderlands into a regional crisis.

 
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Chapter 41: Armeno-Tatar War and the rise of Caucasian Terrorism
Armeno-Tatar War and the rise of Caucasian Terrorism

There was always something burning in Baku, the city of oil. Oil fuelled the houses, it was used as a remedy for rheumatism and skin diseases for humans and camels alike, it lubricated the axles of heavy carts and it was used for waterproofing the flat roofs of the new stone buildings. By the end of the 19th century, oil had changed Baku from a sleepy Persian bazaar town into a modern European-styled city with luxury hotels, casinos, horse-driven tramways and telephone lines.

When new Czarist regulations finally allowed free competition in the oil-production business in 1873, huge amounts of foreign investments had soon poured in. Ludvig Nobel, the ‘King of Oil’ - his company Branobel at one point produced c. 50% of the total oil production of the entire world! - and names like Rothschilds, Rockefellers, Shell and Royal Dutch became quite familiar to the locals. This rapid industrial expansion turned the local economy and social structures upside down. The ever-increasing numbers of self-made oil millionaires and international tycoons and the wealth they invested to the oil business allowed the city-dwelling Armenian emigrants to benefit from the rapid changes in the local economy. In recent decades, a large number of Armenians had immigrated to Muslim-populated regions of the Russian southern Caucasus from Iran and the Ottoman Empire. Since these immigrants and refugees had lacked access to good agricultural land, they had been drawn to the cities, and especially to Baku. By the early 1900s, Armenians far outpaced Muslims with respect to the number of skilled positions they held in industry and in local branches of civil service.

The native Muslim population had not been so lucky. Skilled jobs were taken up by Armenians, Russians and other foreign Europeans, while a flood of imported labour from Iranian Azerbaijan squeezed the local workers out of unskilled work as well. The situation would have been volatile even in an open and free society, but in the repressive and hierarchical Russian Empire there was no way for the locals to vent out their frustrations in a legal and peaceful way.

But despite the poor lot of the local Muslims, it was the Armenians who were first to clash with the Russian authorities. The actions of Prince Grigorii Golitsyn, the heavy-handed Governor-General of the southern Caucasus, had aroused the animosity of the Armenian Dashnaktsutiun movement, and the clandestine organization had gained the ire of the Russian state by severely wounding the Governor-General in a botched assassination attempt just months after Golitsyn had confiscated the properties of the Armenian Gregorian Church in 1903. The following years had witnessed a growing spiral of violence in the region, and by February 1905 Armenian and Muslim groups were openly attacking one another in the alleys of Baku at broad daylight. The local Muslims had responded to Armenian assassination campaigns and intimidation tactics of the Dashkaks by establishing their own paramilitary group, Difai, that had soon also gained the ire of Russian authorities by assassinating a local Russian police chief, whom they had regarded as too pro-Armenian.

The killings soon spread to the whole Yerevan province, and by the end of the summer the mountains and valleys of Nagorno-Karabakh, the region with particularly mixed Armenian and Muslim population, was a battlezone of rampaging Armenian and Muslim armed militias. By the end of the year 158 Muslim villages and 128 Armenian villages had been torched and destroyed, and over 10 000 people were dead.

State officials in the Caucasus responded to the crisis by working through the local spiritual leaders. Illarian Vorontsov-Dashkov, the emperor’s emissary to the region, contacted the Shiite Sheyh-ul Islam Akhundzade in December 1905 with the request that he should assemble a group of representatives of from the Shiite population to participate in peace negotiations with the Armenians, to be held in Tbilisi in the following month. While Akhundzade was rather unsure whom to choose, he finally gathered a group of local Muslim notables, religious leaders and intelligentsia. As the fighting subsided during the winter, the Russian vice-regency established a system of indemnification relying on the Shiite Assembly: Material losses that local Muslim communities had suffered would be compensated by money obtained through vakif revenues. Local Shiite authorities were tasked to compile and assess the worthiness and accuracy of reparation claims of local Muslims, while the Armenian Assembly would conduct the same tasks in the Armenian community.

This solution calmed the situation, but by then the destabilizing effects of the "Armeno-Tatar War"(as the wave of violence was soon named in the Russian press) had spread out from Caucasus to rest of the country. Russia was at the doorsteps of a new era of terror.
 
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Frankly, I've little in the way of constructive critical engagement with the politics of the early twentieth century Caucasus- but it's fascinating, and as well written as ever.
 
Frankly, I've little in the way of constructive critical engagement with the politics of the early twentieth century Caucasus- but it's fascinating, and as well written as ever.

Indeed it is. Always a joy to see an update!

Thanks for the feedback once again.
I'm now moving the TL from the obscure world of Ottoman and Chinese internal politics to the bit-less-obscure world of imperial Russian domestic politics and terrorism.
 
Chapter 42: Terrorism in the Russian Empire, part I: Finns, Poles and Armenians
Terrorism in the Russian Empire, part I: Finns, Poles and Armenians

The rise of terrorism in Russia after few decades of harshly enforced internal peace was more or less inevitable considering the growing contradictions of the domestic situation of Russian Empire. By 1900 the liberal segments Russian society and middle class at large, frustrated by the lack of reforms in the country, now largely wanted to remain aloof in the political process and berating both the government and the extremists that waged violent terror campaign against it. By the turn of the century Russian liberal intelligentsia by and large tolerated, understood and even absolved terrorist tactics, while it was quick to condemn the authorities for implementing harsh countermeasures and repression. The autocratic Czarist regime stubbornly resisted the equally determined middle-class efforts to develop the provincial zemstvos and other civic organizations into larger, coherent and formidable country-wide formations and kept the ban for political parties in effect. This led first to frustration and then to apathy and hostility, and changed the public mood so that the rising new generation of terrorists could now operate with the tacit support and sympathy from people who would have rejected and opposed them outright just a few decades earlier. The surviving cadres of exiled revolutionaries soon got the wind of changes taking place within Russia, and started to regroup their forces and assert that it was once again time to take up arms and start an attack against the autocracy. But while these revolutionary exiles debated about political theory in London, Zürich and elsewhere, obscure individuals without any formal allegiance to any existing organization begun to commit violent acts on their own initiative.

This new era of terrorism was initially seen as a problem of western and southern borderlands of the Empire. The worst-afflicted area was initially crescent-moon shaped zone of strife that stretched from Grand Duchy of Finland through the Baltic provinces to Polish territories, and from there to Bessarabia and Caucasus. But while each part of this wide area became restless during the first years of the 21th century, there were strong regional differences among the motives and methods of the local terrorists.

Despite the fact that their old privileges and semi-autonomic status were increasingly at odds with the bureaucratic drive to standardize (and in effect Russianize) the complex administration of the Empire, the Finns had a long history of loyal subjects, and the region remained remarkably calm despite the growing dissent at all spheres of Finnish society. This led to a situation where radicals in St. Petersburg quickly discovered that they had a vast safe haven just a short train ride away. Most representatives of Finnish regional administration, even at the highest levels, sympathized with the revolutionary cause. They were not about to assist the same government that was chipping away their autonomy one reform at a time by turning against the Russian radicals who sought refuge and cover from the Grand Duchy. The Finnish authorities used the growing radical activity as a mean to show their discontent towards the Russification efforts of the government, and presented it with incidents like the Finnish police arresting Okhrana undercover surveillance agents as “suspicious characters”, local judges creating legal obstacles to the extraction of arrested radicals to Russian custody, and even a few suspicious cases of imprisoned extremists escaping from Finnish prisons just prior to the day they were due to be handed over to Okhrana. But these were rare cases - as a rule Finnish police just passively assisted the terrorists by turning a blind eye to their activities as long as they did not disturb the public safety at the Grand Duchy itself.


Further south the three Baltic provinces were all silent and peaceful, and in retrospect this calm before the storm lulled the local authorities into false sense of security since the Estonians, Latvians and Lithuanians had next to no earlier history of rebellious activity.

In the Kingdom of Poland the PPS, the Polish Socialist Party, became one of the first modern political terrorist organizations in entire Russian Empire by adopting violence as a primary method to promote their goal of national liberation. The fact that it was the Poles who spearheaded the rise of political terrorism in the Empire wasn't surprising when considering the fact that the entire history of the Russian presence Kingdom of Poland had been marked by revolts and generally staunch refusal to accept Russian domination. As the PPS held the seventh party congress that officially approved the use of terror “against the enemies of the Polish nation”, it did not take long for a new wave of region-wide unrest to sweep through the cities and countryside of Russian Poland. PPS soon found terrorist methods as extremely effective means to destabilize the Russian rule in Poland. The new special clandestine group of party activists, Bojowka, spearheaded the terror campaign that soon spread into a more general unrest in the area, as the combatants started to commit acts of terror motivated by personal hatreds and desire for revenge against suspected police informers, street cops, Cossacks, guards, soldiers and other faceless servants of the establishment.

While the Polish terrorists were the first ones to rise up in European parts of the Empire, the rising tide internal unrest within Russia had begun in earnest a few years earlier in the ever-troubled Caucasus. Here the Armenian Dashnaks had declared war against the Russian state after the confiscation of the Armenian church property had threatened to undermine the traditional source of income of the party in 1902. Their militantly anti-Russian stand had soon expanded into a violent campaign against the local Muslim population, and this escalation served the interests of the ARF quite well, as it forced the Armenian population to band together and to voluntarily (or forcefully) donate substantial amount of funds to the ARF. During the following years the party had been able to entrench itself to certain remote parts of the region so well, that it had been able to take over administrative and judicial functions in several remote mountain valleys by punishing anyone who tried to appeal for help to the legal civic and police authorities instead of the local revolutionary committee. This led to a situation where the aftermath of the “Armeno-Tatar War” saw the Russian authorities negotiating with the ARF as as a de facto acknowledged regional authority. The success of Armenian terrorism gave rise to various smaller and less organized extremist formations and isolated “combat detachments”, which operated in a similar fashion as the ARF Dashnaki. By sentencing their opponents to death in the cold tradition of Caucasian vendetta, extorting dues from nearby villages and forcing the local population to terminate payment of all legal taxes these groups followed the well-proven methods of banditry endemic to the region. By burning crops and prohibiting harvest, abducting women and children and then demanding enormous ransoms they further destabilized the region and forced the terrorized local population to take sides between oppressive terrorist groups and indifferent, inefficient and corrupt central government.
 
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How does the terrorism compare to the prelude of OTL revolution of 1905?

Is prominent politicians like Bobrikov or Vyacheslav von Plehve dead? Is the SR active? I guess I'll have to wait for part 2 or even 3.
 
How does the terrorism compare to the prelude of OTL revolution of 1905?

Is prominent politicians like Bobrikov or Vyacheslav von Plehve dead? Is the SR active? I guess I'll have to wait for part 2 or even 3.

These are good questions. Is Karelian planning on having someone else play a similar part Eugen Schauman did IOTL, or maybe butterfly the whole thing? Or have even something more disruptive take place? I guess we'll see soon.:)
 
How does the terrorism compare to the prelude of OTL revolution of 1905?.

This is the key question for the next part of this TL. In OTL the disastrous war in the Far East acted as a catalyst for the turmoil of 1905. Here the Empire has a regional flashpoint at the restless Caucasus - the violence between Armenians and Tatars (Azeris) had little to do with the war against Japan, and would have happened anyway without significant changes in the conduct of Russian authorities. To a lesser extent this applies to Kingdom of Poland and the Jewish Pale (which will be covered in the next update) as well - war or no war, people who committed acts of terror in OTL will have the same reasons and motives to do so in TTL in both locations.

The key difference is that here the country is at peace - but on the other hand all the pent-up anger growing within Russian society is not going anywhere, as the autocracy sees little need for reforms.

In addition the way revolutionary parties and movements developed in Russia at the turn of the century were really prone to butterflies, so a subtle change here and another one there will lead to something rather different from OTL just a few years later.
 
I'm really liking the way you handle the butterflies, first from the Boxer Rebellion to the Russo-Japanese conflict and now to events in southern Europe and Russia. It'll be interesting to see how the revolutionary movements against the Tsar play out ITTL.
 
This is the key question for the next part of this TL. In OTL the disastrous war in the Far East acted as a catalyst for the turmoil of 1905. Here the Empire has a regional flashpoint at the restless Caucasus - the violence between Armenians and Tatars (Azeris) had little to do with the war against Japan, and would have happened anyway without significant changes in the conduct of Russian authorities. To a lesser extent this applies to Kingdom of Poland and the Jewish Pale (which will be covered in the next update) as well - war or no war, people who committed acts of terror in OTL will have the same reasons and motives to do so in TTL in both locations.

The key difference is that here the country is at peace - but on the other hand all the pent-up anger growing within Russian society is not going anywhere, as the autocracy sees little need for reforms.

In addition the way revolutionary parties and movements developed in Russia at the turn of the century were really prone to butterflies, so a subtle change here and another one there will lead to something rather different from OTL just a few years later.
Thanks for the answer. I'm especially interested in the Armenian situation these days. I've been reading Hovannisian's The Republic of Armenia and for me, not that well-versed in this area, it is most educating.

I'm really liking the way you handle the butterflies, first from the Boxer Rebellion to the Russo-Japanese conflict and now to events in southern Europe and Russia. It'll be interesting to see how the revolutionary movements against the Tsar play out ITTL.
Indeed. I also like the "calm" nature of the TL. It does not feel stressed or overly dramatic but rather slowly looming towards a conflict, much like the early 20th century was.
 
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