In this country , it is good to kill an admiral from time to time

It's becoming fairly obvious that the Russians are alienating all of their neighbors, and even the Greeks should be wary of being taken along for the ride and wouldn't IMO be too unlikely to be seeking out guarantees from other powers, after all it didn't sign up to get dragged into Russia's conquest business, only to take out the Anarchists.
Also, I suppose that the Pirot will be Greece's takeaway ? Perhaps with parts of Kosovo ?
 
I'm betting my imaginary mansion that the foreign minister is going to get a terminal case of assassination on the way to Warsaw.

Anyway, thanks for the update, Antony. Glad to see that you're not abandoning this story.

I still want to complain about the lack of threadmark though.
Nah, what could possibly make you think that? :biggrin:
Since the Anarchist bombings and first attempts, security has been increased though.

Nope, not abandoning the timeline. I just had difficulties writing the update...still do, for that matter, I was planning for two or three, and I only was able to write it yesterday.
Bah, I will persevere...
Threadmarks...yeah, sorry, but it keeps erasing itself from my busy schedule...:oops:



It's becoming fairly obvious that the Russians are alienating all of their neighbors, and even the Greeks should be wary of being taken along for the ride and wouldn't IMO be too unlikely to be seeking out guarantees from other powers, after all it didn't sign up to get dragged into Russia's conquest business, only to take out the Anarchists.
Also, I suppose that the Pirot will be Greece's takeaway ? Perhaps with parts of Kosovo ?
To be fair, most of the countries involved are extremely 'nervous' since the Great War, and never accepted in the first place the 'stealing' of the lands Moscow annexed.
Not to say the Russians behave nicely and respectfully, but the moment the Treaty of London was signed, it was likely unavoidable there was going to be another war.

Pirot and Kosovo would certainly suffice for Greece's ambitions, yes. But at the light of what it's happening, many politicians of Athens are beginning to understand what they've plunged into, and are beginning to advice in private it would be best to remove themselves from this war, even if it is going to result in lesser gains.
It isn't like Serbia is the prize of the millennium right now, really.


Are the Austrians and Russians going to try to deport the Serbians overseas?
Where would the Dual Republic do the deporting? I haven't a map next to me, but I don't remember the Austria-Hungarians having a colony where they can 'settle' tens of thousands of unwanted refugees.
The Russians obviously could in yet-to-be-settled Siberian regions...and probably will, if given the chance.
 
Lol Poland is too weak to be of any real use in a war, other than maybe slowing Russia down for a few weeks as they invade and occupy the whole country.
That would push France to intervene. Seriously, Russia might be powerful but if France decide to help create a coalition to knock the Tsarina some pegs down... well, ITTL Sweden can tell you what happened when all your enemies attack at once. I bet the land conquered during the Great War aren't that pacified either, a new nightmare is coming and just after the Serbian nightmare.
 
A coalition against Russia could attract the Ottomans, the Chinese, and the Japanese. Not to mention all those minorities who likely resent the heavy handed Russian rule.
 
The Tzarina isn’t stupid, she realizes that she can do whatever she wants on the world stage. We even see in the update that she had calmed down from her initial desire of full annexation into a Polish solution. Though it is worrying that her military is lying to her and wants titles for themselves.
 
too little, too late. And I have my doubts she realizes how bad is the PR of herself and her country.
People were afraid France would annex Switzerland even after France stated there would be no such thing. France have a stellar reputation when compared to Russia, so people aren't afraid now. They are beyond fear and are outright persuaded that Russia will go with full annexation of Serbia.
I don't think Tsarina realizes that she pushes a lot of countries to the edge, in fact, the simple fact she even thought about annexation is proof enough for me.
 
The Gdansk Conference (European diplomacy 1923)



No minister of a foreign nation was killed on Polish soil during the year 1923, but it wasn’t for a lack of trying. Many Collectivist terrorists had decided the Anarchist principles had been printed on the newspapers because they had blown up a lot of important and unimportant people, and the arrival of Swedish, and Hungarian-Austrian diplomats was too good an opportunity to pass by.

None of the attempts were successful; the bombings and killings of the Anarchists had forced Poland, like many other nations, to step up its security levels and plenty of young men and women who had thought they would begin a tide of revolution and change – in the name of Collectivism, of course – died or disappeared into dark prisons without accomplishing anything.

Still, the numerous plots and one particularly loud explosion made sure the diplomatic summit was relocated from Warsaw to Gdansk.

By then, it wasn’t a small-time meeting anymore. There were representatives for the ‘Republic’ of Sweden, the Republic of Saxony, the Kingdom of Poland, the Dual Republic of Hungary-Austria, the Republic of Albania, the Kingdom of Naples, and while none of its ministers or senior diplomats was present, the Sublime Porte had sent delegates too.

Adding the military forces of said nations, one obtained a very respectable amount of firepower. But evidently, everyone invited knew that no matter the quality of the armies they could muster on the frontlines, they were badly outmatched by the Empire they all intensely hated.

While Saxony had concentrated its forces against Russia during the Great War, Poland had, and its hosting diplomats were prompt to breathe significant quantities of realistic air into the other envoys’ heads. As it stood, the alliance of Greece and Russia had crushed decisively Anarchist Serbia, making sure this country would prove essentially useless when it came to slowing down the Tsarina’s divisions.

Worse, as long as Greece was siding with Moscow, the Ottoman Empire was guaranteed to lose badly. Ottoman Europe would not last two months if enemy armies came from every frontier and the Aegean and the Mediterranean were denied to the Anatolians’ sea trade.

Naturally, opinions widely differed as to how accomplish this goal. Sweden, Saxony, and the Sublime Porte were in favour of recognising the city of Pirot and some of Kosovo’s lands as legitimate claims of the Kingdom of Greece. Albania and Hungary-Austria utterly disagreed: in their opinion, the Greeks were complicit in a murderous campaign only a few stops removed from Genghis Khan’s levels of destruction, and thus should be happy they were allowed to hold what they already had before 1922. And it went without saying that all open or covert suggestions that the Ottomans had to sell one of their provinces for the good of the alliance were firmly rejected.

Fortunately, the diplomats of Central and Eastern Europe were in luck. Athens had a far better idea how much tearing part Serbia and the refugee crisis had dirtied their reputation, and were willing to negotiate for modest gains instead of a third of Serbia like some Russian Generals tried to bribe them with. The Greek liaisons also affirmed they were willing to declare null and void the treaty of mutual defence signed with Russia, which had always been acknowledged as a massive problem by Polish and other experts, since letting Russia invade was a death sentence if there ever was one.

Unfortunately for Regensburg, Warsaw, and Stockholm, the Kingdom of Greece’s representatives were not stupid. They wanted guarantees in the form of lands, either part of Kosovo, or on the side of Pirot. That way, no matter who won the future slaughter between the Russians and their opponents, Greece would have a nice belt of fortresses and difficult-to-cross lands as insurance.

Things weren’t going better when the issue of closing the Baltic were discussed. Having Sweden on your side was undoubtedly going to be help immobilising quantities of Russians in the Finland theatre, but it soured the heats and the heads of Christian X of Denmark and Margaret II of Norway against the not-yet-official alliance.

Polish and Austrian diplomats – taking the lead in this instance – were not able to convince Copenhagen a blockade of all Russian ships was in their best interest...and the smaller objective of convincing the Scandinavians from fortifying their frontier was Sweden wasn’t accomplished either. And since France and Westphalia had not bothered doing more than criticising Russia for the massacres perpetrated on Serbian innocents, it appeared at first glance the situation was hopeless. Despite the Russian Empire having invested far less on warships than it did in its armies, the truth was that Russia could likely defeat the nations gathered at Gdansk when it came to conventional sea battles...and on land, the rapport of force was even more one-sided, and not in Poland or Sweden’s favour. As if there was need of more bad news, the Spanish Imperial Crown chose this moment to remind the countries concerned that allying with Muslims when you were a pseudo-Catholic nation was serious heresy.

Even by the standards of truth-bending many diplomats used regularly, it caught some people flat-footed. Madrid, after all, was now a French ally and ruled by an Empress of the Bourbon dynasty. And Paris had used this diplomatic and military tool to demolish the Habsburgs and plenty of rivals in their time.

Ultimately, outrageous or not, this was another problem, since many remarked accurately the Spanish wouldn’t have dared shouting this if France wanted to prevent Russian ships visiting Gibraltar or the Channel. Some pessimists even imagined that it was only a question of days before Empresses Charlotte and Anastasia joined into an official alliance and doomed the world to an era of limitless tyranny.

The doomsayers were rapidly proved wrong. Russian troops began to march out of Serbia by the beginning of March. And English diplomats decided to invite themselves at the Gdansk Conference.
 
I think Greece just get out at the best moment, the winds of wars are changing.
I must admit I forgot the fanaticism of Madrid (but I doubt France would let the armies of Spain on his lands) The arrival of England is just the ray of hope these countries need right now. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if the ambassador of Japan in France decide to discreetly sent some people to the conference, same for China (a pity but the Gurkas are busy with the fanatics of Hindustan)
 
I think Greece just get out at the best moment, the winds of wars are changing.
I must admit I forgot the fanaticism of Madrid (but I doubt France would let the armies of Spain on his lands) The arrival of England is just the ray of hope these countries need right now. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if the ambassador of Japan in France decide to discreetly sent some people to the conference, same for China (a pity but the Gurkas are busy with the fanatics of Hindustan)
I don’t believe the Spanish are as fanatic as they appear to be. Their upper brash is divided between partisan/noble lines, while the Queen is seeking to both centralize authority and normalize relations with France. No, there has to be more that went unsaid on what they are doing in this escalating situation.
 
Nope, not abandoning the timeline. I just had difficulties writing the update...still do, for that matter, I was planning for two or three, and I only was able to write it yesterday.
Bah, I will persevere...
Would a few posts similar to the one on Antarctica help? (Either in a "fresh ideas about the TL" way or on a "That's my TL! Just watch me take back control!" way.)
 
Would a few posts similar to the one on Antarctica help? (Either in a "fresh ideas about the TL" way or on a "That's my TL! Just watch me take back control!" way.)
Sure, go ahead if you want, just send me by PM the omake before publishing it, I want to read to make sure there's nothing problematic for the story at large.

Meanwhile I will try to publish a new update before next Thursday.
 
Following Antony444's approval (thank you, Antony), here is a series of nine omakes. Those are not canon, only my interpretation of what may be going on in ANtony's world. I tried (which doesn't necessarily means "succeded") staying outside the scope of the geopolitical events described by Antony's cannon posts.

Here is the first one, It is inspired by the mention of the Orient-Express in the TL.



A train unlike any other (The Orient-Express 1902-1917)

In this new age of industry, trains had been among the indicators of a nation’s advancement. Nearly a full blown metric, built on lines densities, travel frequencies, locomotives horsepower, and many other elements.

Bit by bit, they had been linking the most remote outposts of civilizations, bringing together mining towns and industry centers, large working populations and sheltered leisure resorts, brand new hives of modernity and old places of traditions and history.

The Russians were boasting about their transcontinental lines, running for thousands and thousands of kilometers across the vast, and sometimes hostile, expenses of their empire.
The Hungarians-Austrians took pride in their tight network, both a backbone to their economy and a way to ensure a quick and efficient mobilization when, not if, the next war would come.
The Ethiopians drowned their propaganda machine under photographs of their brand new (and now even home-made) trains bringing the rule of the capital (by way of soldiers, bureaucrats and other teachers) to the former Omani Africa.
The French, from the end of the Great War to the middle of the 1910s, were neck-down into restructuring the unbelievable mess that had resulted from the different parts of their empire (and newly conquered territories) taking different (some would say, frankly divergent) approaches to building and operating railroads, finding only meager solace in the fact that early quasi-monopolies and subsequent traditions had in effect guaranteed that most of their networks had compatible gauges.
The Chinese, past their reunification, faced the monumental task of re-building the northern railroads from scratch, due to gauge differences. They didn’t falter, relying on the efficient planning of their centralized railway agencies.
The Portuguese, with English help, were actually building more railroads in their remaining colonies of Angola and Mozambique than in their mainland, hoping it would be enough to face the Drakan threat.
The Swedes were the first ones to operate a year-round service to the iced coast of Lapland and their military bases there.

All were making history. But one line, one single line, overshadowed them all, for it managed to transcend history and entered the legend. The Orient Express.

Its first iteration offered its services a few years before the Great War, linking Paris to Constantinople via Strasbourg, Stuttgart (in Westphalia), Munich, Vienna, Bratislava, Budapest, Belgrade and Sofia. It was the latest expansion of a growing private Bavarian company whose founder wished to link Munich to the other capitals of Europe. In his dreams, passengers would freely flow from one of those great cities to the other, with no more efforts as required to climb on board the train. Geopolitical realities had the company first confined to liaisons between Munich and the neighboring capitals, but the influx of wealthy clients soon allowed for a gamble (some would say, a potentially rewarding distribution of bribes among the most vocal nationalists with a say in the economic decisions of a few key countries). Betting the company’s future on the Orientalism wave among its wealthiest clients was revealed to be a winning move, and soon the Queen of Cities was a mere step away from French capital.

With the war breaking out, and then Serbia turning anarchist, it didn’t operate for long. But the luxury of the coaches, reaching a level never seen before in a train, and more alike to that of the great liners, and the incredibly short time of the trip (less than four days where crossing through the Mediterranean took around two weeks) made sure it left a lasting impression.

If the original line was the result of a Bavarian’s dream come true, its renewal was the masterwork of Ottoman diplomacy.

The Sublime Porte was once more on the ascent, and it wanted the world to know it. And what more to tell the tale far and wide than a new grandiose monument? But not one of the old times, carved in stone and unyielding; one of this new century of progress and technology, cast in steal and brandished to everyone wherever they stood.

The new line started as far as Calais, where it linked with ferries from Britain. It then went to Paris and split. The upper branch still crossed through Westphalia, Bavaria and Hungary-Austria; but it avoided Serbia altogether, servicing Tirana and Skopje before Constantinople. (Not stopping at Thessaloniki was the only way the Ottomans managed to get the Greeks on board without going south all the way to Athens.) The lower branch, a repayment to the French for the pressure put on both Athens and Bratislava, went through Lyon, Milan, Venice and Zagreb before joining the upper one in Tirana.

The Grand Opening made the headlines around the world, and it is rumored that some rich French celebrities usually residing in North America made the trip to Europe just to be in first train to leave Calais. But it was not enough for Mehmed. His projects for the Orient-Express were even more grandiose.

After all, the new Sultan had just recovered Mesopotamia, and the territory lacked terribly in infrastructures. There too, new railways were being built, linking the Asiatic side of the Bosphorus to Basra on the Persian Gulf. And over the Bosphorus itself, Mehmed had planned for the crown jewel of his cherished line: a bridge. A bridge that would join Europe and Asia across over a kilometer of water. A bridge that would show the technical knowledge available (if not yet native) to the empire. A bridge of legend for a train of legend.

Yet the idea suffered setback after setback, delay after delay. In 1911, as the railroad to Basra via Baghdad was finally complete and the first coaches of the Orient-Express laid their wheels on Asian ground, two distinct projects had already been abandoned, and none seem willing to take their chance anymore. The passengers of the first service from Calais to Basra had to disembark on the western side of the Bosphorus, cross by ferry, and board a second train.

Nevertheless, the opening of the second part of the line proved to be a boon for the Ottoman economy. Travel time from Paris, and more generally European France, to French India had just been slashed to less than half of its previous value. French businessmen, but also those of Westphalia, Hungary-Austria or Bengal, soon ditched the old sea routes in favor of the rail for every transport where speed mattered more than volume, be it people or precious small perishable goods.

With so many high-ranking officials and businessmen in the train, spies from all countries soon started to be seen (or rather unseen) on board. The French empress even had to remind her senior (and less senior) civil servants that the Orient-Express was not to be considered a secure place. And several affairs reached the headlines were state or industrial secrets changed hands, mostly unwillingly, but not only. Of course, this only added to the legend, and the attractiveness of the train.

As passengers flowed and his coffers filled, Mehmed soon got the means to his cross-continental ambitions. He then went to enlist the “Société des Constructions Vernes”, founded by Julie Vernes which gave her name to the famous 300 meters tower near the Seine in Paris and renowned for the various bridges and viaducts it delivered across the world.

After two years of planning and three years of construction, the Two Continents Bridge was inaugurated by the Sultan himself on a bright afternoon of the early Mars 1917. The press coverage was overwhelming, there was probably not a single Turk not to have seen the photographs of the event in the next few days, and not a newspaper or radio station referring to international news not to have discoursed on the event, but it paled in comparison to the life bridge and train together would awake to in the various works of fiction of the century.

August Christie, an English writer, had just won the whole science-fiction genre its spurs. His stories, although at the time of writing really a work of anticipation, would latter give birth to the whole “retro-futurism” movement. Days under the Nile, as an example, is a well-known story of a few tourists exploring the bed of the river in diving suits and The Mysterious Affair at Styles features an incredibly detailed description of a rocket laboratory, a description close enough to the reality of modern science that it led to numerous crazy theories along the years (August being a time traveler not being the most eccentric of them).

One of his masterworks would be instrumental in the legend of the train: Mother of the Orient-Express, where the sole heir of the Sultan happens to be his daughter, and where she extends the line to Beijing. The plot itself is considered subpar to August’s other stories, but the finesse of the depictions of the works of engineering laid along the new path is something to behold. Architecture and engineering schools across the world reported increases in students enrollments up to double the usual following the book’s publication.

The last building block to the legend of the Orient-Express would come from war, or, rather, preparations for war.

Most of the Ottoman population took for granted that a war with Russia was only a matter of time, the main divide being between those fearing it, and those calling for it. In those times of peace, the military invested as much as they could in new, better and more numerous weaponry. However, the balance between those three adjectives was not always optimal. Especially when a ruinous and unworkable project had the bad taste to both look prestigious and reach the sultan’s ears.

The particular white elephant of the Ottoman army that related to the Orient-Express actually only related to the Two Continents Bridge. The pictures immortalizing the Orient-Express crossing said bridge accounted for the rest of the link.

Four railway guns. Four 80 cm railway guns. Each to stand atop one of the bridge’s pillars for anchorage. From there, they would be able to sink a Russian fleet long before it could even think about opening fire on the city.

Their brand-new caliber would need its own line of production in a dedicated factory. The pillars would need to be reinforced, less than a year after the bridge completion. Maybe also the roadway; the plans of the wagons were not yet finalized and they may end up too heavy for the current bridge. All that to prepare for an assault that would probably never come, will exposing the guns to enemy aircrafts.

The bunch of crazy officers that came with such an idea should probably have been sacked on the spot. Instead, they got to met the sultan several times, discussing matters of the utmost importance, such as the guns’ paintings.

By the time a counselor managed to get his head of state back from prestige-induced high and to the grim realities of modern warfare, news of the project, and photographs of the wooden model towed across the bridge, had spread all around the world. The Greeks and Russians first smiled at the idea of the Ottomans squandering their wealth in such projects, but their happiness turned sour when they realized that the sultan could alas be shown reason. The rest of the world integrated the guns in their collective imagination.

From then on, the guns would regularly resurface, in a form or another, in the works of fiction, alongside mysterious islands, hidden treasures and secret societies. They would have been based on Da Vinci’s most secret plans, on forgotten Egyptian secret books (alongside the keys to eternal life) or on ancient Chinese weapons. A parody even had them being railway railguns. They would have been actually built, but hidden to serve only against a greater threat, be it an apocalypse foretold by the Mayas, something ancient awoken by the crusaders or an army of retro-futurist cyborgs held (for no particular reason but the plot) in cryogenic stasis and waiting for a button to be pushed to rise and burn the world. Or they were a scam to protect an actual treasure made of all the gold (or a mystic relic, depending on the director) the Ottomans had plundered in their conquest of Mesopotamia. In two different books, the guns had never actually been built, but the whole factory had, and it was hidden and ready to be restarted, nevermind some petty details like rust. Anyway, something was definitively hidden somewhere, only to be found by the young heroes from the right country (or faith, or ethnicity, or whatever obsession the producer had) and by nobody else before them (with the possible exception of the Bad GuysTM in case of last-minute plot twist) even with clues of their whereabouts carefully scattered in plain sight.

With the tensions rising once again, the Orient-Express was soon to face a turbulent century. But no matter the brutal shutting down of the services, for days or for years at a time, the partial or temporary reopenings, or even the technical difficulties arising along the way, its legend would always arrive on time, anywhere someone would look at at a rail track with stars in the eyes.


EDIT: Changed "Istanbul" to "Constantinople"
 
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Omake # 2, a bit shorter. Of course, still my own interpretation, still not canon. Also, less likely than the first one to collide with Antony's futur posts.


The monuments of the old world and the wonders of the new (French Empire 1911)

The basilica Saint-Martin de Tours was consecrated in the year 1014. Tradition has it that Charlemagne’s fourth wife was buried in close proximity to the place on which said basilica then stood.

For the longest time, it was one of the largest sanctuary in Christendom. Built (and re-built in 1096) to last for centuries, it had endured the passing of nearly a thousand years. But slowly, bit by bit, time had taken its due. Some restoration efforts had been made in the late XVIII century, but they were not enough.

On June the fifteenth, 1911, the fall of two small stones in two different parts of the ambulatory rang like an alarm bell. Consolidation and restoration works were urgently needed, but the sanctuary had seen better days, and money was scarce. A desperate plead was made by the ecclesiastics to the government.

The immediate aftermath of the Great War, nine years before, had let the French Empire, then a kingdom, with an impressive pile of debts. A pile of debts that the successive governments had worked tirelessly to reduce. Parts of these efforts were alas clearly visible in the architectural style, or rather lack thereof, of the newest building erected in the country, be they hospitals now fully able to accommodate for the latest discoveries of battle medicine, factories for the new tools of war, or collective housing in the conquered territories.

So when the request to save the old basilica made the headlines, something immediately sprang to life in the general population. With the dead long led to rest and the blunt grief and sorrow their memories once awoke slowly fading away, the stories of Charlemagne echoed well those of the recent victories, singing into the hearts songs of mighty empires and glorious conquests.

Mighty empires with far better architectural tastes.

In the span of a single week, it became an obvious fact for anyone in the streets that “the great architectural inheritance” of the past generations should be maintained and protected.

The Imperial Assembly jumped in and, in a rare show of unity from most of the represented parties, managed to vote an emergency budget for the basilica before the end of July. Then it started to work on how such a preservation effort should be continued. And all hell broke loose.

One of the satirical Parisian newspaper counted a grand total of three more law proposals with a variation of the word “pérennisation” in their title in a week than the number of registered parties in the assembly. The article offered an impressive number of puns about the “impairs” (blunders) of the “pairs” (peers) that found themselves at odd with their party’s line.

It took a personal intervention from the empress, under both the forms of face-to-face “intense” meetings with a few party leaders and of a quite large contribution to the initial funding from her own purse, for an initial draft to finally be seriously debated.

However, it soon appeared that not everyone was quite happy with it. The European mainland, Egypt and the Indian lands flourished with monuments that were known far and wide within the empire. The later two had even each left the former with a wave of influence that, while quickly peeking and then dwindling, left distinctive marks all across the empire.
Territories lacking those world-famous landmarks, be it that their own monuments were less renowned or that they lacked altogether historical man-made impressive structures, were not particularly enthusiast about the proposed definition of the buildings worthy of the “French Heritage” mention.


The North American and Antipodean provinces were particularly upset by the “historical” requirements. They were joined on this point by the admirers of the pre-war architectural styles, including most notably the Verne Tower in Paris, the representative monuments of which were deemed too recent to be included in the aforementioned Heritage.

They were also joined by various native groups and their defenders, whether or not said defenders were actually needed. Some tribes in the Northernmost America had played quite well their early allegiance to the French and enjoyed a situation that many, for example, Peruvian citizens could only dream of.
Those groups argued for the notion of “building” to be enlarged to incorporate sites, natural or altered by man, of significant historical or cultural value. Lovers of the Terres Fumantes (Yellowstone) and other natural wonders soon joined the melee.


Five months of debates and an impressive amount of donation promises by various nobles and rich businessmen ever hungry for publicity the Commission Impériale pour la Conservation du Patrimoine Français (Imperial Commission for the Preservation of French Heritage) was born, with a comfortable initial funding and a further steady flow of money acted into the law for the years to come. In the face of the scale of the empire, it wouldn’t lack work.
 
Omake # 3 It is less a story and more an attempt to imagine the structure of the French empire (probably in a different way than Antony does; although I think I did not contradict anything he explicitly stated in the story). The existence of sub-levels to the vice-royalties (especially territories) is inspired by DracoLazarus map. I'm not exactly satisfied by the names of the Indian principalities, but that's all I managed with my limited knowledge of the region. Any tip on this point is welcome.

I think I remember that there was a story post with alternate names for some North American cities, but I couldn't find it. If I happen to contradict it with the names I gave to the North American provinces capitals, please tell me, I will correct this post.

Of course, still my own interpretation, still not cannon.


Neither Holy, nor Roman, but definitively an Empire (French Empire, 1902-1922)

In the 19th century, managing the numerous and vast dependencies of the French Kingdom had become an increasingly difficult task, each new conquest bringing more land to tend to, and each new year bringing new subjects to administer.

The proclamation of the French Empire in 1905 gave the French government an opportunity to tidy a bit the situation, operative word being “a bit”. Mainly, the term “colony” has disappeared from the official documents and the various provinces of the empire have been reclassified into new categories (some with brand new names) linked to their size and population. The most significant progress was that now two entities part of the same category shared the same devolved powers and responsibilities (unlike what was previously the case for, as an example, the provinces of Québec and Nivernais). Ensuring Louisiana or North Italy didn’t immediately vote for independence relied on the centralized bans on some parties. The newly formed multi-continental state was organized as follows.

Its capital city was Paris. There had been some very harsh debates as to whether Versailles should be chosen instead, with Paris being demoted to the European France capital. Proponent of the home of the empress advocated for a brand new city to emerge from the ground, new monuments welcoming the imperial institutions in a tremendous show of the French architectural savoir-faire. The additional show of power by a victor of the Great War would of course only have been unforeseen but welcomed consequence. Rumors have it that Paris only kept its status because it would put the French capital ahead of Tokyo, Pékin (Beijing) or Varsovie (Warsaw) in the alphabetical order of the world’s diplomatic lingua franca. Most economists rather believe that, so soon after the Great War, France was still in no position to spent vast sums of money on building a new capital when it already got one.
Concerning the highest level institutions, Paris is the home of the Assemblée Impériale (Imperial Assembly), the Sénat (Senate) and is one of the three seats the imperial government.
The imperial assembly fields five representatives by canton impérial (imperial canton), which might, or might not, differ from the “canton” (often dubbed “canton provincial”, provincial canton) used in most, but not all, of the empire’s lands for the purpose of lower-level elections. All imperial cantons have (approximately) the same population, and are redrawn (if needed) every ten years. Within the imperial canton, the five seats are attributed via a two-turn vote: all lists with less than five percent of the votes are eliminated after the first turn; all those between five and ten percent of the votes must combine with other lists (to reach a total above ten percent) to go to the second turn. After the second turn, seats are distributed proportionally to lists with more than ten percent of the votes.
The senate’s goal is to represent the various local sensibilities. Its seats originate from the various duchies of the old French kingdom and their equivalents in the ex-colonies. By 1922, and after the empress managed to reduce once more the power of the high nobility, it is no longer reserved to aristocrats. Its reats are attributed through a two-turns vote. Only the top two candidates go from first to second turn. If a candidate gets more than half the votes in the first turn, he (or, she, but not in the first years of the empire) immediately wins the election.
The Imperial Assembly normally have the final say when in conflict with the Senate. However, in case of a four fifths majority in the senate and less than fifty five percent in the assembly, the senate can block the assembly’s initiatives (but not promote its owns).


Pondichéry and Québec had long been de facto, and even in some specific domains de jure, the capitals of French India and America. The development of brand new methods of fast communication, like the telegraph and the telephone, by allowing near-real time exchanges between Paris and all the French lands, was threatening to make them irrelevant. At least when it came down to matter of international importance. Long was gone the time where the Indian wars where declared, led and concluded from Pondichéry alone without any input from Paris.
However, new means of communication also meant that people were expecting their government to react even faster than before. The central authority was more and more expected to answer as swiftly to a developing situation in Saint Louis as to one in Brest. Needless to say, ministers in Paris did not show a great deal of enthusiasm at the idea of dealing with every minor crisis on the other side of the world in the middle of the night. Thus Pondichéry and Québec found themselves a new purpose. As “decentralized sieges of the government”, they found themselves hosts to a fully-fledged administration, including “delegated minister” (of whatever portfolio) to the Americas or to the Indies. Those delegated ministers would (on top of multiplying the government’s expenses) be in charge of day-to day administration (cutting down the load of the “real” ministers to a more human-manageable level) and fast responses. The two imperial governors (in Pondichéry and Québec) would play the role of delegated prime minister.
Paris would still rule directly over metropolitan France, the Mediterranean islands, Africa (including Aden) and the Atlantic islands. Pondichéry would be in charge of French India, the Indian Ocean and Indonesian islands, Antipodea and those Pacific Ocean islands close to the later. Québec would control America, including the Caribbeans, and the remaining Pacific Ocean islands.


Those three main divisions of the empire were themselves subdivided into a combination of provinces, vice-royalties, principalities and territories. And a few more exotic entities, of course; otherwise things would have been considered too simple.
The four main types of subdivisions originated from the population density differences. Of course, with the passing of time, the evolution of those densities was not uniform, but the divisions generally remained.
Territories were near-uninhabited lands where most of the decision-making is centralized in one of the “three capitals” of the empire. As of 1922, there were two of them: the cold Territoires du Nord-Ouest (North-Western Territories) and the hot Haute Antipodée (Higher Antipodea).
Provinces started as sparsely inhabited lands, like the French ex-colonies in North America. They were delegated the same amount of powers as Vice-Royalties and Principalities, but originally only transfered a trinket of them further down their own subdivisions. The central provincial authority (a provincial governor, along a provincial government and a provincial assembly) is generally completed by a single other level of elected politicians (some kind of city-plus-vast-amount-of-surrounding), but the most populated, like Québec, have already introduced some mid-level assemblies. The French provinces are as follows.

  • Under Paris:
    • Centrafrique (Centrafrica): capital Faya-Largeau
    • Congo: capital Bata
    • Côte d’Ivoire: capital Conakry
    • Guinée (Guinea): capital Douala
    • Libye (Libya): capital Benghazi
    • Sénégal: capital Dakar
    • Soudan (Sudan): capital Dongola
  • Under Pondichéry:
    • Antipodée du Nord (North Antipodea): capital Nouvelle Lyon (same geographic position as OTL Darwin, the Batavian city was renamed)
    • Basse Antipodée (Lower Antipodea): Bonnes-Eaux (OTL Port Hedland, based on a native name “translated” with that times’ standards)
    • Comores (Comoros): capital Mamoudzou
    • Maldives: capital Malé (this territory also includes a few islands in the Indian Ocean, like the Andaman and the Chagos)
    • Mélanésie française (French Melanesia): capital Suva
  • Under Québec:
    • Acadie (Acadia): capital Port Royal
    • Adamantine: capital La Grande
    • Amérique du Sud française (French South America): capital Villeneuve-du-Sud (made up, same geographical position as OTL Punta Arenas)
    • Cartier (The debate whether to merge it back into Champlain was fierce. It involved numerous cases of bribery, lies, spread of rumors, bar brawls, street brawls, and even a “brawl” by some not-that-young-anymore delegates on the esplanade of the assembly, which ended in a mere forty seconds, after which the participants were in dire need of catching their breath. The lowest point of the affair was a persistent rumor about a Cartier representative and a she-bear.) Capital: Cartier.
    • Champlain: capital La Tourette (OTL French fort)
    • Colorado: capital Deux-Rivières (made up, “two-rivers”)
    • Grandes Plaines (Great Plains): capital Pierre (OTL French fort)
    • Grands Lacs (Great Lakes): capital Pontchartrain
    • Labrador: capital Baie-aux-Oies (inspired by OTL Goose Bay)
    • Louisiane (Louisiana): capital Bâton-Rouge (yes, New Orleans was pissed, but they lost the war)
    • Malouines: capital Port Saint Louis
    • Missouri: capital Orléans d’Amérique (Orleans in America) (OTL French fort; the choice of the capital might have something to do with the Louisianian rebellion...)
    • Nouvelle Bretagne (New Brittany): capital Nouvelle Angoulême (OTL New York)
    • Orléans: capital Duquesne (OTL French fort)
    • Polynésie (Polynesia): capital Papeete
    • Pacifica: capital Saint Charles du Pacifique (made up, OTL Eureka)
    • Québec: capital Québec
    • Richelieu: capital Saint Louis du Nord (OTL Saint Louis)
    • Suffren: capital Saint Louis du Sud (OTL French fort)
    • Terre-Neuve (Newfoundland): capital Plaisance
    • Vauvert: capital Cap Triste (made up, OTL Olympia)
    • Villars: capital Passe du Nord (OTL Ciudad Juarez, translating its former name)
Vice-royalties were in the beginning moderately populated lands. Much of the delegated powers are actually delegated to their subdivisions. Ideally, a vice-royalty would be divided into régions, themselves divided into départements, and those finally divided into municipalities. However, local realities produced other kinds of subdivisions: vice-royal territories (the empty deserts of Egypt) and various “collectivités à statut particulier” (special status communities) which merged région and département levels in various islands. Each of these levels (except the vice-royal territories) would have their elected government. The vice-royalty level has a bicameral parliament; sub-levels have a single chamber. The French vice-royalties are as follows.
  • Under Paris:
    • Égypte (Egypt) capital Alexandrie (Alexandria)
  • Under Pondichéry:
    • Java (and the surrounding islands) capital Jakarta
  • Under Québec:
    • Saint Domingue et Antilles (Saint Domingue and Antilles) (for historical reasons) capital Port-au-Prince
Metropolitan France is also divided according to the same system. The metropolitan régions are as follow.
  • Alsace (capital Strasbourg)
  • Anjou-et-Maine (capital Angers)
  • Aquitaine (capital Bordeaux)
  • Auvergne (capital Clermont-Ferrand)
  • Baléares (capital Palma de Majorque)
  • Béarn (capital Pau, now including lands south of the Pyrenees)
  • Bourbonnais-Berry-Nivernais (later: “Centre”) (capital Bourges)
  • Bourgogne (capital Dijon)
  • Brabant (capital Bruxelles)
  • Bretagne (capital Rennes)
  • Catalogne (capital Barcelone)
  • Champagne (capital Troyes)
  • Corse (capital Bastia)
  • Dauphiné (capital Lyon)
  • Émilie-Romagne (captial Bologne)
  • Flandres (capital Lille)
  • Franche-Compté (capital Besançon)
  • Île-de-France (capital Paris)
  • Languedoc (capital Toulouse)
  • Ligurie (capital Gênes)
  • Lombardie (capital Milan)
  • Lorraine (capital Nancy)
  • Navarre (captial Pamplune)
  • Orléannais (capital Orléans)
  • Palatinat (capital Trèves)
  • Pays Basque (capital: Saint Sébastien)
  • Picardie (capital Amiens)
  • Piedmont (capital Turin)
  • Poitou (capital Poitier)
  • Provence (capital Aix-en-Provence)
  • Rhénanie (capital Aix-la-Chapelle)
  • Sardaigne (capital Cagliari)
  • Vénitie (capital Venise)
  • Wallonie (capital Lièges)
Principalities were created in the highly populated India. They are geographically smaller than provinces and vice-royalties but started with levels of population that would rival those of said vice-royalties. All the fourteen of them are situated in French India. They have the same amount of self-government as provinces and vice-royalties, except where geographical scale comes to matter, as is the case with long distance transport infrastructures (like canals or transcontinental roads and railroads). All the principalities are constitutionally bound to delegate those powers to an ad hoc authority, whose members are not elected but nominated by the elected representatives of the principalities, with the approval of the imperial government. Principalities have at least two sub-levels of divisions administrated by elected bodies: districts and municipalities. The French principalities are as follows.
  • Bas Coromandel (includes Pondichéry)
  • Berar
  • Bijapur
  • Ceylon
  • Deccan (far smaller than what the name could imply)
  • Gondwana
  • Gujarat
  • Haut Coromandel
  • Konkan
  • Mahanadi
  • Malabar
  • Mysore (far smaller than the kingdom conquered during the Great War)
  • Orissa
  • Telingana
The remaining lands of the French Empire have various statuses listed as follow.
  • Collectivité impériale autonome de Chypres (Cyprus autonomous imperial community), aggregating the powers of vice-royalty and région. It is divided into three départements, further subdivided into municipalities.
  • Collectivités impériales (imperial communities): Malte (Malta), Aden and various Atlantic islands aggregate each the powers of région and départements. They depend directly of Metropolitan France and are subdivided into municipalities.
  • Collectivités insulaires impériales de l’Océan Indien (Indian Ocean imperial island communities): Bourbon, Maurice, Socotra, the Andaman islands and the Kerguelen islands each aggregate the powers of région, département, … and part of the powers normally reserved to a vice-royalty. They are subdivided into municipalities. The remaining vice-royal powers are exercised by Pondichéry in the name of the imperial government. The vice-royalty of Java started as a collection of such entities, grouped together after the annexation of the Malagasy territories.
  • Territoires insulaires antarctiques (Antarctic islands territories): various small islands with no permanent population like the Crozet islands are administered directly from Paris. Clipperton also became part of those territories as the direct consequence of the inability of the representatives of Pacifica and Polynesia to agree upon its status and of the queen, soon-to-be empress, Charlotte growing out of patience. Despite its position north of the equator, the “Antarctic” part of the name was kept, mostly to avoid the bother of fighting bureaucratic inertia on this subject.
  • Administration militaire de la base de Sambava (Sambava base military administration): Malagasy territory under the direct rule of the imperial government (more specifically: Pondichéry), with a few delegated powers (parts of those normally reserved for municipalities) for the civilian parts of the territory.
  • Protectorat français de Palestine (Palestine French Protectorate): technically an independent state which happens to have the very same government and head of state as the French Empire, and to be situated on lands belonging to the French Empire but leased on a day-by-day basis. For those who consider that any part of a sentence following a “technically” can be safely ignored, it is just a part of the empire where the laws are slightly different.
All said and done, this is a state where bureaucracy is in no risk of extinction.

EDIT: corrected typo on a province name
 
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