Saint Petersburg, Saint Petersburg Governorate, Russian Empire, 27 October 1914
Being far away from the Kremlin had its benefits for Wrangel.
Here, he could focus on his position as a general, rather than the court politics of the Diterikhs Administration. While he could serve as a voice of reason over there, it wasn't as if they would actually listen to him.
Here, he could at least do some good, serving Russia. Not Diterikhs' insane ramblings or Kornilov's rage, but Russia itself.
That's what I tell myself, anyways. At least I can get some peace and quiet.
To that end, he had requested every bit of intelligence the Okhrana could gather on the Chinese military capabilities, and he had gathered quite the trove. Entire folders of analyses, news reports, and articles about the Chinese now lay on his desk, well-worn from his constant studies.
Exactly how the Okhrana obtained those articles? He would never know, but the crisp paper and ink patterns gave the impression that they just sent somebody over there as a diplomat and had them print as many files as they could get their hands on.
For all he knew, that was what they'd actually done.
While he had no love for any enemy of Russia, he could at least respect the Chinese's skills in engineering and strategy. Or rather, their adaptation of the Americans' engineering and strategy if these articles were to be believed.
To his surprise, much of the Chinese equipment was not actually designed in China. From their tanks to the vast majority of their aircraft, and even the bulk of their firearms, almost all of it was either designed outside of their borders or built outside of their borders.
Yet here they were, victorious over Russia, Japan, and the Qing.
There was the logical conclusion that the Chinese had a finite amount of these modern weapons and equipment, but with the rapid industrialization of the country, it was unlikely that they could rely on the Chinese simply running out of ammunition and equipment in any future war.
No, the Chinese would almost certainly be able to replenish both by the time any future conflict occurred, and that meant finding a way to defeat them.
The first issue would be motorization, given General Brusilov's reports on the rapid advancements made by the Chinese in Zheltorossiya. These, coupled with the released images of the Chinese with their trucks and armored vehicles, demonstrated the importance of the motorized and mechanized vehicle in modern warfare, rather than static warfare.
The problem, as far as he could tell, was not just how Russia could design and build so many vehicles, but if Russia even had the industrial capacity to build them in the first place. It was why he'd been so insistent to Diterikhs, Denikin, and Kornilov about the mass exodus happening right now.
"Idiotic" was a good way of putting it, and he meant it. How else could he describe it when the Prime Minister heard that up to twenty million Russians could emigrate by the end of the decade and say it was a good thing?!
While yes, the departure of non-ethnic Russians, socialists, intellectuals, and other opposition members could make Diterikhs' "One Russia" policy an insane reality instead of just insane rhetoric, it did the exact opposite for things other than "Making Russia a homogeneous Russian state."
Industrialization needed manpower. It needed resources, too. And what do resources need to be extracted?
Fucking manpower!
How in God's name did they expect to industrialize a country when its most important ingredient was walking out the door while they spoke about "One Russia" this, or "One Vozhd" that?!
Honestly, Wrangel thought Diterikhs was a fucking idiot. What was next? Would Diterikhs start throwing Ukrainians and Poles into labor camps and factories to build and extract the industrial equipment Russia so desperately needed?
Right now, Wrangel wanted nothing more than to scream out loud, run to Moscow, and call Diterikhs and Denikin "Fucking Morons" to their faces before unloading a his revolver into their faces.
This was idiotic, but the worst part was that Diterikhs wanted to find a way to make it work.
How, in God's name, are we supposed to do that? Start buying industrial equipment from the British, and Germans?
Honestly, we might have to do that, at this rate, because it's not as if we can develop and build it here!
Truth be told, there was a good chance that German and British industry would look the other way and invest heavily into Russia. It would cost the Motherland dearly, but industrialization (and by extension, military modernization), was still possible.
Diterikhs would have his modern Russia in a decade. It would be expensive, inefficient, and take twice as long to accomplish, but it would happen.
Now if only Russia could have somebody more-competent to lead it.
Office of the Grand Vizier, Cemile Sultan Palace, Istanbul, Ottoman Empire, 8 November 1914
Grand Vizier Damat Ferid Pasha had been a most gracious host to the Chinese delegation. That much was clear as day to Ambassador Ma Fuxiang.
"I do hope that your new accommodations are more fitting, Ambassador," said the Grand Vizier. "Finding lodging can be a hassle."
"Indeed, Grand Vizier," said the Muslim former general. "And yes, they have. You have my thanks."
But what truly stuck out to the Ambassador throughout this meeting was how eager the man was to cooperate with Nanjing on areas of mutual interest. Particularly on the matters of industrialization, modernization, and education, to name a few things.
Truth be told, Ma was probably here because Nanjing wanted to keep him as far away from his power base as possible, and being the first Muslim ambassador to the Ottoman Empire seemed like the perfect fit. Given how the winds had blown in the Revolution, he was not about to complain anytime soon.
That said, even he could tell that the Grand Vizier was negotiating from a spot of weakness. The Ottoman Empire was divided, relatively-uneducated, and poorly-industrialized. Now that he thought about it, they were in the exact same scenario as China had been, though Ma doubted that Cyprus would also magically travel back in time.
Still, Ma didn't get this far by being stupid. And despite this position being little more than a sinecure and a kick upstairs, he could tell that trying to wring every drop of oil out of the Ottomans would be an idiotic idea.
Sooner or later, the Ottomans would realize what the Chinese had done, and then the next administration would either backtrack or wait for the perfect moment to stab China in the back.
It was what he would do, anyways, if he were in their shoes.
No, any deal with the Ottomans would have to be deliberated and equitable, if for nothing else than it not exploding in their faces five, ten, or even fifty years down the road.
"...Regarding the issue of oil," Ferid Pasha had said, dragging Ma back into the conversation, "I believe that a "Finder's Fee" would be appropriate for any oil that is found through our nations' joint efforts."
"And what form would this take?" Ma half-asked, half-offered, "Profit-sharing, discounts, or shares in any ventures?"
He was leading this conversation. Sure, he could ask for all three, but Ma had a feeling that would bite them in the future.
"I believe a reduced price would be in order," the Grand Vizier, "Though I would like to propose a partnership between our two countries with regard to oil exploitation. I am sure you are aware of the Turkish Petroleum Company, yes?"
"The Anglo-German company operating in your country?" Ferid Pasha nodded. "I thought one of their stakeholders was an Ottoman subject."
"Ah, Mr. Gulbenkian," the Grand Vizier sighed. "Yes, Mr. Gulbenkian is an advisor to the government, however his interests are largely… how do I put it?"
"Unaligned with the government's interests."
"Precisely," said Ferid Pasha, now that Ma had come to the same conclusion. Maybe, just maybe, the Grand Vizier was smarter than Ma gave him credit? "The Germans receive a quarter of the profits, the British a third, Royal Dutch Shell receives another quarter while Mr. Gulbenkian receives the rest."
"And the Ottoman Empire receives nothing. Besides 'economic development and jobs,' I imagine?"
"Indeed, Ambassador. Which brings me to my proposal: I am offering a partnership between my country's government and yours to form a joint venture in the oil industry here. Both governments would have a fifty percent share in the company, and said company would be tasked with the exploration and exploitation of any oil deposits in the Ottoman Empire that are not already signed away to the Turkish Petroleum Company."
"You do realize that you are offering quite literally half of your country's oil revenue to Nanjing, right?"
"Of course, Ambassador. And tell me: Is fifty percent not more than zero percent?"
"Of course; this way, at least some of the oil revenue would go to your people. But this does seem a bit much, doesn't it?"
"In fairness, we would require a heavy investment of capital and equipment from Nanjing. That, and the fact that your government's access to information from the future, you actually know where the oil is located."
"Not to mention that this would be part of a larger agreement between our two nations, Mr. Ma. Particularly in the areas of diplomatic support between one another, as well as geopolitical areas of mutual interest."
"You mean Russia."
"Exactly."
"Well then," Ma was wrong about Ferid Pasha. Despite his historical reputation as an appeaser in the Lost History, it was clear that the man had his reasons to act as he did. "I'm sure that Nanjing would practically jump at this offer, but I will need to forward it to them to get it in writing."
"Of course, Ambassador."
"And you? How will the people of the Sublime Porte react to this partnership?"
"Truth be told, Ma, I do not know for sure. However, it wouldn't be too hard to convince people that this is a step in the right direction for prosperity. Especially when my party can portray this as a victory over the foreign exploiters."
"Perhaps." Ma didn't know for sure, but it was possible it worked. "And what of the Turkish Petroleum Company? I imagine they would raise their own objections."
"The TPC's concessions largely consist of a single forty kilometer strip along a proposed railway, as opposed to the rest of the Empire."
"I doubt they will like the competition, Grand Vizier," Ma said, to which the man only grinned. "Is there something I should know?"
"Competition is necessary in this great game we call world politics, Ma. And with your nation's cooperation, I believe the Sublime Porte can finally end its losing streak."
Presidential Palace, Nanjing, Jiangsu Province, Republic of China, 10 November 1914
"We're taking this deal, right?" Song Jiaoren asked Sun. "We have the seats to ratify this treaty. More than that, if I'm being honest."
"Of course we are," Sun told him, along with the rest of the cabinet. "We'd be idiots not to take this offer, especially when the Ottomans can spin this as a victory over the nations that have humiliated it for the last few decades."
"CPC has said that they can begin transporting equipment immediately," Wang chimed in. "While we are not exactly running out of oil anytime soon, they seem content with drilling somewhere that isn't offshore for once."
"See to it Wang," Sun ordered, to which the Interior Minister nodded. "Thank you."
"It does seem interesting," Huang told him. "Wouldn't you say, Sun?"
"What about it, Huang?"
"How eager the Turks- er, the Ottomans were to cooperate with us, rather than the British or the Germans."
"We're kindred spirits, us and them," Sun told the head of the NRA. "Just as we were once the 'Sick Man of Asia,' the Ottomans are still the 'Sick Man of Europe," a moniker I am sure they wish to rid themselves of. A partnership with us, a global power without a history of humiliating them for the last few decades? Why wouldn't they take it?"
"Of course. Which brings me to my next point: We are a global power, now. And the rest of the world is growing to respect that. But as far as global powers go, we seem to be one of the better ones."
"Decades of humiliation does provide a certain perspective, I suppose," mused the President. "But that's enough policy for one day. How is the planning for the San Francisco Conference?"
"Ambassador Lea has told us that Roosevelt is very receptive to the idea. And he is very eager to speak with you, Sun."
"Of course. Now, is this the 'happy' kind of eager, or the 'annoyed' kind?"
"Probably both of them," Huang chuckled. "The man has gone on record saying that he sees our republic as a brother, and his foreign policy has acted accordingly. But at the same time, I can't imagine he is too enthused about us crashing the price of cotton and textiles with this year's crop."
"And the price of sugarcane?"
"Actually, he might be happy about that one."
Santiago, Republic of Chile, 21 December 1914
When the Great Journey happened, Chile was largely unaffected.
While one could make the argument that the Revolutionaries' victory had helped raise the Radicals' profile here, the same could be said of the Radical Civic Union over in Argentina. And unlike the Chinese, the Argentine radicals had been supporting their Chilean brothers.
Though in fairness to the Chinese, the Argentines were right next door, rather than on the other side of the mountains.
Next came the Chinese textile industry's imports, which most Chileans seemed fine with. While the fashions were a bit of a culture shock at first, the cheap cotton and clothing was welcomed by almost everybody.
After all, who didn't like cheaper clothes?
But it was the Chinese nitrate industry that had gotten them to where they were today. Or rather, their use of the Haber-Bosch process and the industrialized manufacture and export of nitrates that led to the mass protests in the streets of Santiago.
It wasn't much of a surprise to anyone who kept an eye on the nitrate industry. Everyone needed fertilizer and gunpowder, which put them in high demand. Which meant that Chile, with their large supply of nitrate deposits, was able to profit handily off of the trade.
It had gotten to the point that people started calling it "white gold." For all intents and purposes, it might as well be, and it was Chile's primary export, followed by copper.
Or at least it had been, until China had begun synthesizing ammonia on an industrial level in early 1913. That alone wouldn't have alarmed anyone in the know, given that the Germans had come up with something similar at BASF. However, it was the sheer magnitude of the production in China that crashed the market.
Over the span of a year, the increased supply meant that the price of nitrates had plummeted into the ground, and the Chilean economy soon followed them. Such was to happen, when Chile kept reinvesting half of their yearly profits into mining more saltpeter while the other half was used to fund infrastructure projects and economic development that wasn't based around saltpeter mining.
Which, in hindsight, was something they should have invested in, but it wasn't as if they could have expected an island from the future suddenly arriving, then crashing the price of their main export in a few years.
This now left Chile in the unenviable position where they'd gone from being a wealthy two-trick pony to a one-trick pony, if the pony had spent the last few decades doing that one trick and only occasionally practicing the second one.
Analogies aside, the members of the Liberal Alliance were here in Santiago to figure out what they could do. They couldn't compete with the industrial production of ammonia, and that was before Alessandri had pointed out that it would only decrease further as the Chinese built more industrial capacity.
Diplomacy was also out of the question. While they did have some leverage, by virtue of their connections to various foreign companies who also weren't happy about losing their profits, they doubted that China would share their concerns and slash their production.
Which meant that copper would be the lifeline they'd depend on. There wasn't much else they could offer, and the demand for copper had gone up.
The only problem was mining and exporting it.
CNS Yushan, San Francisco, California, 24 February 1915
"I've been to many places," Michael's partner told him, "But not the United States."
"You went to Hawaii as a kid, Aki. That counts."
"They were still independent. Besides, I've never been to the mainland United States."
"Fair enough," he told her, before adjusting his dress uniform once again. "So, how do I look?"
"I think you have more medals than some monarchs, Michael," she told him,.trying her best not to laugh. "But you make it work."
"Thanks. So, you ready to go explore San Francisco-"
He'd ask more, but she was practically dragging him through the halls at this point.
"Morning, General!" Chiu greeted as she pulled Michael along. "Morning, Ms. Higa. Enjoy your day off!"
"We will, Chiu!" Aki told him, speaking for the two of them. "Just call if you need anything."
"Well, somebody's excited," Michael chuckled. "You really want to tour San Francisco, don't you?"
"Of course I do. I've never been here before."
"You know, we're going to be here for a few months, right?"
"Today's your day off, and I can't speak English."
"You're not that bad."
"I can't speak English well."
"Okay, fair enough."
As they walked, he could see the rest of the Chinese pavilion being set up. There was everything, be it military equipment, computers, solar panels, windmills, weapons, vehicles, farming equipment, helicopters, and of course the Yushan itself.
He was pretty sure Shannon was off somewhere with Rachel prepping the helicopters on the Lu Haodong.
"They're really going all-out for this one, aren't they, Aki?"
"I guess Nanjing wants to leave a good… how do you say it in English?"
"First impression?"
"Right. A good first impression. This is the first time people are seeing the Republic of China firsthand. This way, people can see that China is a modern country. Not just Taiwan."
"Makes sense." He wasn't one for politics, but she broke it down enough for him while a crowd gathered around the block. "Hey, what's going on over there?"
"Want to check it out?" Michael just shrugged, and she led him over there. "Wait."
"What?"
"I can't speak English. Can you translate?"
"Sure. Let's see…" He peered around the crowd to see just what people were all worked up about, until he saw the large man in question. "Holy shit."
"What is it?"
"That's the President of the United States, Aki. Want to get closer?"
"Sure."
"...so we are here in this city," Roosevelt continued, "For two reasons. First, we are here to celebrate technology, prosperity, and progress. Not just in the past, but in the years to come!"
"Second," he said with an equally-booming voice, "We are here to ensure that prosperity. Not just for the rich or the people of one country, but of all countries. That is why I am pleased to announce that I and my staff, along with the delegations from all the great nations of the world, are here to discuss."
"When these negotiations are over, I promise you all that we will be one step closer to having true liberty and justice for all!"
That, out of all things, was something everyone could get behind. Even Michael and Aki, and they technically weren't US citizens anymore.
At least I don't think they'd recognize my papers.
I should try that sometime. Would be pretty funny at least.
"Without further ado, I would like to introduce the first President of China, Sun Yat-Sen."
If anything, that got an even louder applause from the crowd, though even more looked on at the man in curiosity.
After all, this was the man who'd saved China from becoming the Sick Man of Asia in only a few years.
"It is good to be back in America," Sun said to the crowd. Unlike Roosevelt, he carried a quiet, more-focused cadence. "The Republic of China has a long and rich history, but we have followed in America's footsteps. But now, we intend to walk side-by-side as brothers, united in purpose, democracy, and prosperity."
And to make sure that we don't accidentally start another trade war and crash the price of even more goods.
Which, in fairness, hadn't led to mass layoffs yet, so Michael and his fiancee were still laughing at how China accidentally started one. In fairness, they were busy spending 1912 and 1913 preventing famines.
Now, they had the exact opposite problem.
But Sun isn't going to say that quiet part out loud. "Oh hey, sorry for accidentally nearly destroying entire sectors of your economy; we're here to renegotiate tariffs so long as you help us get our land back and end the Chinese Exclusion Act," just doesn't have the same ring to it.
"Through technology, education, and our shared values," Sun continued, "Let us walk hand-in-hand into the future, so that the light of democracy will shine even brighter!"
If the crowd liked what they'd heard before, they loved this, if their loud cheers were anything to go by.
Eventually, the speech ended, and Roosevelt and Sun walked off the stage, shaking hands with the people until they reached the couple."
"General Chen?" If Sun was surprised, he didn't show it. "How good to see you."
"Friend of yours, Sun?" asked Roosevelt. "Ah, one of your generals."
"Yes sir," Michael answered in his old Californian accent. He didn't notice it, but he stood just a little straighter than he had before. "Major General Michael Chen of the 66th Marine Expeditionary Force."
"I see…" Roosevelt told him, having taken an interest in the marine general.
Michael was just trying his best not to look starstruck as the man offered a smile and a handshake.
"Your English is very good, General."
"Thank you, sir. I grew up in California."
"An American at heart!" Roosevelt exclaimed, and shook Chen's hand even harder. "I will be sure to visit the Yushan before I leave, General. Good day."
"Thank you, sir." Chen said politely, before nodding to Sun. "Best of luck to you two in the negotiations."
Sun gave him a polite nod, while Roosevelt gave another hearty smile as they walked past the rest of the crowd.
"Well then," Aki told him, once the crowd began to leave. "Martin is going to be jealous of you."
"Probably. I mean, who gets to meet two living legends in a single day?"
"Us, apparently?" She just shrugged. "So, do you remember your way around San Francisco?"
"Seeing that I'm over a hundred years in the past… no."
"Ah. You have a map, right?"
"'Course I do."
HISTINT Analysis of Colombia in 1914, MIB Section 5
As far as countries in Latin America go, Colombia is one of the least-affected by economic effects of our country's mass-industrialization and modernization. While some would say that their country is over-specialized in the coffee trade, it is this fact that has allowed them to weather the storm better than Venezuela, Brazil, or Chile.
Despite this, it is likely that Colombia will also see a net decrease in revenue this year, as well as the following years. As good as their coffee is, the price still went down this year, which means their income does, too.
However, it is clear that there are other, more pressing issues, particularly the outgoing Restrepo Administration's conflicts with the Catholic Church.
Despite his conservative political affiiliation, Restrepo is rather progressive on several issues, particularly the separation of church and state, as well as women's rights. Unfortunately, this has led to him angering his fellow conservatives and even his excommunication.
With his departure from office, as well as the returning deficit due to the decreasing price of coffee, it is likely that the Concha Administration will face an uphill battle with the Liberals on one side, and the Catholic Church on the other.
The latter of which could likely see a rightward-shift in the country, with the Catholic Church asserting itself against the conservative yet more-progressive Concha. However, it is worth noting that Concha will at least attempt to maintain the policies of Restrepo, which he may very well be able to do.
However, should a Conservative leader side with the Catholic Church without even a semblance of progressivism, it is within the realm of possibility that the Liberal Party returns to power in 1918.
Delhi, British India, 1 March 1915
Jin Hua was no stranger to India. After all, he had visited on numerous occasions to learn from the Buddha's example.
However, he never thought he would be here, under these circumstances. Or with these many converts in a few months.
Then again, pretty much everyone he'd managed to convert were either Dalits or Shudras, people of the lower castes. Them and a few intellectuals from the Kshatriya and Vaishya classes who joined for more philosophical reasons.
That wasn't to say that the Dalits or Shudras were less-philosophical. Not when he kept discussing philosophy with his companions who were also, unsurprisingly, Dalits and Shudras.
Or they were, anyways.
But at the same time, it didn't surprise him too much that the people most willing to listen to him convert and speak with them were near the bottom. Most people don't consider a new faith, let alone convert, when things are going alright for them.
"Like Hindus," he said to the assembled around him, "We believe in the cycle of life and death, which we call 'Samsara,' as well as the concept of suffering, which we call 'Duhkha.'"
"But to put it simply," he continued, making sure the translator could keep up with him, "The main difference between Buddhists like us and Hindus is that we do not believe in the same type of hierarchy as the caste system."
Again, he paused long enough for the translator to speak for him, but this time he could see some nods from the crowd.
Jin Hua needed a moment to think of the right way to word his next sentence. After all, his own opinions on Hinduism should not blind him in his mission to spread the Buddha's teachings.
"You see, Hinduism says that a Dalit will always be a Dalit, while a Brahmin will always be a Brahmin. In practice, this can lead to mistreatment, prejudice, and abuse."
"While I will not claim that Buddhists are perfect people, we fundamentally don't see people as Brahmins, Dalits, or Shudras, which means we don't see or treat people as Brahmins, Dalits, or Shudras."
Well, technically the Pali suttas say that if you convert, you effectively lose your caste status, but basically that.
"I believe in a life of dignity, respect, and equality. While Hindus would argue that anyone can achieve moksha, in practice many Dalits and even Shudras face mistreatment, poverty, and violence by being seen as 'lesser.'"
"As far as I am concerned, you are all my equals, just as I am yours. In a few minutes, we will eat together, and if you chose to share our faith, we will work together. Not as men and women of different castes, but as people seeking Enlightenment.
"While there are those who would see you as Shudras and Dalits, I do not see that. What I see in front of me, right now, are human beings. People."
"People who, by virtue of being human beings, deserve a life of dignity, equality, and respect. No matter where you came from."
