Throw of the Dice: A Short War and its Consequences


Throw of the Dice
A Short War and its Consequences


We begin in Paris.

Louis-Eugène Cavaignac is assassinated on 24 June, 1848, shortly after taking office as military leader. The real culprit, in the end, is never found, though the bourgeois Guard is quick to make examples of any suspected of a part in the conspiracy. They, however, are left without a leader, and the government is thrown into disarray.

With Paris in tumult—this is, after all, the height of the June Days—the death of Cavaignac gives the rebels some precious breathing space. The delays and vacillation that have already allowed the revolutionaries to make as much headway as they have are extended and worsened. Members of the Central Republican Society release Auguste Blanqui from his prison in Vincennes, close to Paris proper, and he immediately returns, taking to the streets and preaching the illegitimacy of the government.

The forces of order require a leader, but none is to be found. Cavaignac, of course, is dead. Louis Napoleon, seeing the events unfolding, has no desire to openly impose himself in politics again—not just yet. On the other side, Barbès and the other socialists, for all their attempts to take lead of the revolution, find it hard to overcome their discrediting in May, and realise the limitations of their power. While Louis Pujol’s forces in east Paris fight bitterly against the disorganised Guard, rebels elsewhere take advantage of the opportunity, breaking guard lines and attempting to storm the Hôtel de Ville. They are repelled—at great cost for both sides.

The Constituent Assembly is back in session. For the Deputies, it soon becomes clear that they have few available options. A temporary military dictatorship, like that accorded to Cavaignac, seems ideal but impossible to set out in practice—it seems there are few prepared to fill his shoes. In the end Alexandre Auguste Ledru-Rollin, revolutionary leader of February, ambivalent democrat and conciliator, and a member of the Executive Commission which had only just been deposed, is (reluctantly) brought back and chosen as head of a provisional government.

The choice of foreign minister is—surprising. At Ledru-Rollin’s instigation, the new, inchoate provisional government now reaches outside the ranks of the established leaders and selects the under-secretary of the navy, Victor Schoelcher, best known for his decrees abolishing slavery. Ledru-Rollin, and many in the Party of Order too, are prepared to view Schoelcher as a relatively benign idealist—and besides, foreign affairs are hardly the most pressing issue when Paris is drowning in violence. Better now to direct the leaders’ energy towards that particular problem. Schoelcher, meanwhile, views the position as a logical next step in promoting his own liberal policies.

But Ledru-Rollin is stuck in a quandary. He is sure the workers’ rising will be defeated soon enough. But he realises that his government is a compromise that cannot last. He will be blamed on the left for the suppression of the workers, just as he was blamed in May. On the right, he will be[FONT=&quot]—[/FONT]already is, in fact[FONT=&quot]—[/FONT]seen as an unnecessary concession. Sooner or later, too, the conservatives will find their leader. Louis Napoleon may not have put in a strong performance earlier in the year, but he remains a force to be reckoned with. How, then, with all this, can the country possibly be united? How can he build a coalition to support him? These and many other questions will fill Ledru-Rollin’s mind for the coming two months. With power in his hands, he does not intend to relinquish it too easily.

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September 3, 1848.[1] Statement by Foreign Minister Schoelcher to the Second National Constituent Assembly.

“As many previous resolutions attest, it has been the longstanding opinion of the French people that the Italian nation must be liberated from its sorry captivity under the thumb of foreign oppression. The recent attempts of previous governments to attain a worthy, equitable solution by means of diplomacy, have met with nothing but stubbornness and obstructionism. Yet republics have grown in Italy like green shoots from fertile soil, and we surely recognise the virtuous duty of one republic to aid another. If Italy cannot go it alone, then France shall come to her aid. Indeed, the French people can no longer stand back and watch in passivity as Liberty is once more nailed to the cross by tyrants. We know the feelings of the people of Lombardy and Venetia, who have groaned under the heavy shackles of oppression. Now, we stand together with them as one, united by reason, by justice and by our shared desire for freedom. Fifty years ago, the French people stood alone. But we shall fight now with the nations of Europe at our side. Against the Austrian Empire, the French Republic pronounces a declaration of war.”

[1] The date 3 September is chosen since IOTL, 1 September was the date on which international circumstances seemingly forced the French government to agree on an armed intervention in Venice. It changed its mind the next day. Here things run a little differently.


This will be my second attempt at a TL. Unfortunately the first attempt (which was a long time ago) failed due to a lack of time on my own part, and on reviewing it two years later I'm not sure the premise was realistic to start with. Sorry about that. Hopefully I won't need to break off suddenly here, and hopefully too this is a bit more substantial.
 
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State of Emergency
Ledru-Rollin's Republic from Rebellion to War

PART ONE

ledru-rollin.jpg


Excerpt from Roger Price, Revolution in Motion: A History of the Second French Republic.

Ledru-Rollin's election as emergency head of state in a rushed meeting of the Constituent Assembly may not seem to have been an especially likely outcome, and it certainly did not seem so at the time. Yet Cavaignac's death had left a vacuum, and Ledru-Rollin seemed one of a dwindling number of men who could claim some sort of allegiance from both left and right. Like Cavaignac himself, Ledru-Rollin was neither properly a socialist nor at all a conservative. Though a radical and a reformist, he had proven his credentials to the Party of Order by supporting action against the socialists in May. It was believed by many Deputies that in the trouble and tumult engulfing France, Ledru-Rollin could potentially act as a rock of stability and a popular figure around whom moderate reformists could gather. As a member of the Executive Commission, he had wound down the violent rhetoric and ostentation for which he had been known before 1848. But it is important not to overstate the case: his appointment by the remnant Assembly as emergency President of a new government was carried by a thin majority, and none of the Deputies were without their doubts, especially on the right. Here, after all, was the man who had recently spearheaded universal suffrage.

The implicit reality was that he was a stop-gap. Few indeed expected Ledru-Rollin to survive the year, but what they did expect was that he would be more likely than most to hold the line until the emergence of a more suitable leader for the Republic. From the beginning, he was plagued by problems. He was wanted by neither the radical socialists whom he was busy suppressing, nor the conservative majority in the country. He was bound by a very specific remit[FONT=&quot]—[/FONT]to steer France from civil war. Any immediate attempts to capitalise on his position would most likely be ephemeral. Ledru-Rollin recognised this well, with his proven ability to demonstrate temperance when it was needed, and he stayed away from attempts at further reform. Maintenance, not revolution, would be the watchword of the day. In a single day, it seemed, Ledru-Rollin had become a conservative.

Of course, he had not. Most of those on his short list of choices for government positions were moderate leftists, but leftists nonetheless, and many of them with a long record at that. While the conservatives were less of a threat in the Assembly than they might have been, elections then or any time in the near future would produce a legislature dominated by conservatism. As a sop, Ledru-Rollin installed Alfred Frédéric, comte de Falloux, as Minister of the Interior. De Falloux joined Schoelcher (Foreign Minister and noted abolitionist) as a newcomer to the table of high government. De Falloux would not easily placate the conservative wing, however. Many conservatives, both in Paris and among the peasantry in the countryside, were not happy with the composition of Ledru-Rollin's government. Many rejected the utility of a 'centrist' government in the first case: they held that only good conservatism could steer the country back to the proper course now. It soon became clear, if it had not been obvious already, that Ledru-Rollin would not have an easy time of it.

But for now, Ledru-Rollin had other, more pressing priorities. It would take another long week of bloody fighting before the 'Summer Days' were over and Paris was pacified. Ledru-Rollin—a politician, not a soldier—left General de Lamoricière, former governor-general of Algeria, to dictate the course of the fighting as War Minister, and he rose to this task quite admirably, commandeering the Guards, who had been in disarray and even mutiny since Cavaignac's sudden death, and moving as rapidly as he could. The Assembly wanted blood. In flamboyant style, de Lamoricière continually reinforced the Guards in Paris with many tens of thousands of outside troops, throwing this army against the rebels and bloodily crushing their revolt. No efficiency would save the general from the tarnishing of his character. In the eyes of the radical left, and especially Proudhon, he would forever remain "the Prince of Blood", and Ledru-Rollin would be his treasonous accomplice. However it might be judged, by the end of the first week of July, the rebellion had collapsed. On July 8, under severe pressure from all sides, Ledru-Rollin declared that a new constitution would soon be put into place. First, however, a change needed to be made. Through cajoling and dealing, the National Constituent Assembly was brought to dissolve itself, and a second was called into being.

Given that the Assembly had existed only since April, this seems an odd decision, like so many of Ledru-Rollin's manoeuvres in this awkward climate. The reason for it is most likely a calculation on the President's part. Ledru-Rollin believed that he would be able to consolidate his tenure with a new legislature. Now the National Constituent Assembly was no ordinary legislature, and it had been labouring on a constitution for some time: Ledru-Rollin rationalised his decision by stating firstly, that the tumult of the Summer Days had caused too many changes for him not to call for an immediate election, and secondly, that the work of the constitution must proceed in close concert with the will of the people. If the National Constituent Assembly is no longer constituent in accordance with the nation, then it is no National Constituent Assembly. The conservatives in the Assembly agreed because they recognised the increased power such an election would grant them; his ideological argument was enough to sway some. Ledru-Rollin assured them that the draft of the Constitution would not change. The President himself most likely believed that after his triumph in Paris against the massively unpopular rebellion and his stabilisation of the country, non-politicised peasants would give him their ringing endorsement. He needed a mandate to continue legitimately in his role, and an electoral victory would be exactly what he needed.

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The June Provisional Government was put together on an ad hoc basis, and approved in conditions of emergency by the National Constituent Assembly. As President of the Provisional Government, of course, sat Alexandre Auguste Ledru-Rollin. His position now was far from clearly delineated: it was, indeed, explicitly temporary. Ledru-Rollin nominated the rest of his emergency government, now styling himself a centrist republican, and his few choices were approved by the Assembly.

Victor Schoelcher, very much new blood in this capacity, took the charge of Foreign Minister, handling the direct needs of intergovernmental correspondence. Developments in the rest of Europe would not soon abate. As former Foreign Minister himself, Alphonse de Lamartine acted in advisory capacity, but was withheld from the position itself to ensure the government was not seen as a revival of the Executive Commission.

The choice of Interior Minister was difficult, but Ledru-Rollin reinforced the 'ecumenical' nature of his government by giving the position to Alfred Frédéric, comte de Falloux, more conservative than many. Falloux's role in the government was, again, provisional: he was chosen because of his ideology and his acceptability more than anything. Of course, there are problems with governments chosen for their ideology more than their practical skill.

The position of War Minister fell quite naturally to Gen. Louis Jouchault de Lamoricière, a general and a moderate National Assembly member with experience both of politics and of the affairs of war. Lamoricière is assisted practically in his task in Paris by Gen. Charles Oudinot.

The elections of July 15[FONT=&quot]–[/FONT]6, held under the same precept of universal male suffrage, produced an Assembly with more legitimists, more potential Bonapartistes, more conservatives, and far fewer socialists. Yet the moderates held on. The conservatives were not yet well-organised, though the Party of Order existed in principle, and with Louis Napoleon still vacillating, away from the political scene, there were few striking reasons to vote one way or another[FONT=&quot]—except, of course, in the (decidedly negative) case of the socialists.

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In Italy and the rest of Europe, events are still moving apace. On 4 July, Venetia votes for union with the kingdom of Sardinia-Piedmont, putting paid for now to French hopes for independent republics in northern Italy. The Austrian representative in Britain proposes that Lombardy may be detached, but on no account Venetia. He has a nervous eye turned firmly towards France. The disorder in Paris had been amply matched by disorder in Austria itself, and few expect Austria to emerge the better off in any conflict. Ledru-Rollin, however, is quite unprepared to intervene on behalf of a monarch, even if that monarch does support a celebrated national cause. The Piedmontese rout at Custoza on the 25th of that same month changes that necessity.
 
We begin in Paris.

This has got to be the best, most under-written start to a TL I've ever read. I love this TL already (totally platonically, of course; not sure how you could get physical with a digital literary work). I'm fascinated to see where Ledru-Rollin will steer the ship of state, and thus, though it may tragically a cliche, call me subscribed! :D
 
Oo! Cool!

How does the Provisional Government feel about the German National cause?

I imagine that in theory, it's an exciting one, but even a very idealistic French government has to be aware of the existential danger even a liberal Grossdeutschland poses to French power.
 
Glad you both like it so far!

As far as Germany goes, in 1848 France the nations on the liberals' minds were Italy and Poland, and especially Italy -- Germany was a second-tier issue. The French had been periodically passing resolutions in favour of a free Italy for some time, and in May one of the few acts of the abortive socialist 'government' was to press for Polish independence. The main problem with Germany was like you describe: the French didn't like the idea of sponsoring a national movement that they recognised would probably overtake their own. A J P Taylor deals with this question in some depth, actually, on pp. 3-4 of "The Struggle for Mastery in Europe, 1848-1918", and he comes to basically that conclusion: that the French liberals supported national movements because they thought a Europe of nations would be led by Paris, and a united Germany would ruin those calculations (and even more so an "empire of seventy millions"-style Großdeutschland).

Most French politicians realised that there was more for them to lose than gain by supporting Polish independence, because of Russia and (to a lesser extent) Prussia. With Austria apparently a shambles and Italy much closer to home, however, Italian liberation seemed to be a much more realistic prospect, which is the basis of this TL.
 
With Austria apparently a shambles and Italy much closer to home, however, Italian liberation seemed to be a much more realistic prospect, which is the basis of this TL.

I get that, but Austria was close to collapse anyway, and this may well push them over the edge. This makes it very likely that, at the least, Hungary maintains its independence and so do the Polish, at least for a time - both allied to France and Italy. In that scenario, it may be difficult to prevent some kind of united Germany.
 
You're right -- I'm just talking about how the Provisional Government sees things for now, rather than how things will actually work out (since so far the divergence has been quite minor). That depends on how international relations work out. Stay tuned for more ... ;)
 
The TL is certainly interesting, and the POD is a novel one: my congratulations.

And my congratulations also for keeping Louis Napoleon on the sidelines (hopefully for the duration).

I'm looking forward to see what comes next: a truly liberal Europe (the "Europe of the peoples") coming out of 1848 would be a refreshing novelty, although I can see how the German question will be very hard to sort out (maybe a Germany without Prussia?).

Keep on with the good work!
 
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