Second Wave: The Postwar Progressive Revolution of 1917-31
  • "...marches in not only New York and northern New Jersey, traditionally the hotbed of Irish-American activism going back to the Famine, but also Boston, Providence, Chicago, Pittsburgh, and even Philadelphia. As with any St. Patrick's Day in America, there were Gaelic games, there were songs sung in Irish, and copious amounts of dark beer (especially in states where it was legal), but the "17th in '17" had a certain other aspect to it, both in the symbolism of the date and its sociopolitical context. The Great American War had just ended and tens of thousands of Irish-American and Irish volunteer soldiers had returned from the front, and the marches across the United States were as much a celebration of Irish Catholic heritage as it was a protest for backpay for general infantrymen, well-paid work for veterans in factories that were quickly realizing they had a massive labor surplus with the surge of discharged men and a rapidly declining demand for production goods, and a show of sympathy by Irish-Americans for their cousins in Ireland as the conflict there began to erupt again.

    Though the St. Patrick's Day Marches were not directly related to the labor movement, and they were considerably more peaceful than the massive strikes that would erupt the United States over the next year, they can be considered as part of the general wave of labor activism that rippled across postwar America nonetheless. The Marches introduced dozens of prominent Irish-Americans to each other and to political coordination, bringing together in its aftermath Bostonians like David Walsh, John F. "Honey Fitz" Fitzgerald, and Joseph P. Kennedy Sr. (with his more famous infant son brought in attendance to a great many of the events of March 1917) with New York politicians like future Governor Al Smith or House Majority Whip John J. Fitzgerald and New Jersey's Frank Hague and a young Eamon "Dev" de Valera. It also augured, with its calls for labor solidarity and solidarity with the Irish people as violence returned to that island, was unequivocally an event that revealed the potency of organization, coordination, and mass action to not just Irish-Americans but all Americans..."

    - Second Wave: The Postwar Progressive Revolution of 1917-31

    (Hat tip to Dan for the idea behind this entry)
     
    The Central European War
  • "...the European public had, naturally, been almost entirely sympathetic to the United States and Argentina, and not just because of the large numbers of Italians, Irish, and Germans who had emigrated to those lands over the prior decades. News of the Confederacy's surrender in November had been met with widespread approval in most of Europe, even in countries that had been generally sympathetic to it like France, but the provisions of the Mount Vernon Treaty nonetheless surprised a great many Europeans, especially policymakers.

    While the Confederacy's defeat meant that European opposition to slavery was borne out in full, the economic provisions of the treaty nonetheless was seen as unusually harsh. Even in cases like the Congress of Vienna that had fundamentally reshaped European borders and culled French ambitions on the continent, Mount Vernon laid out stipulations on internal Confederate matters and conduct that Europeans viewed as essentially making the Confederate States a vassal of Philadelphia. This built upon the sense amongst leaders in countries like France that the Great American War had been unusually barbaric, with atrocities so utterly beyond the pale. "We see in this final conclusion of the war," Paleologue declared to the Corps de legislatif as the United States Senate debated the terms of the treaty, "that in the Americas a new type of war has been waged, one that is not gentlemanly but rather barbaric, cruel, and arbitrary." German observers returning from the burned fields of Georgia and South Carolina remarked ruefully that it seemed like Americans fought the Confederates the way that Europeans fought rebellious colonial subjects and African Natives; implicit in this observation was the perception that there was a "proper" way for white Europeans to fight one another, and a way for them to fight their racial inferiors, and that the combatants of the Great American War had broken this gentleman's agreement over how war was meant to be conducted.

    As the Central European War thus approached closer and closer, Europe contented itself with the impression that it remained the apex of world civilization in not only technology and culture but also in warfare, as Europeans would never maintain chattel slave societies, and Europeans would never conduct chemical warfare or level entire cities to starve populations to death. This comforting lie made it so that the documentation of the previously unknown horrors of modern industrial warfare in North America helped military leaders devise strategies to avoid the type of bloodshed that typified the Great American War but in a stroke of cruel irony made it likelier that political leaders would stumble into a war, out of the misguided belief that a cousin to that terrible conflict on European shores could never sink to that level of terror..."

    - The Central European War
     
    The Bourbon Restoration: The Confederate States 1915-33
  • "...the challenge ahead of Patton was, to put it mildly, daunting to the point of being potentially impossible. As a prerequisite for peace and the suspension of Yankee occupation, the Confederate States would have to abolish de jure slavery not only at the national level but in each individual state, a course of action that was not only effectively (though perhaps not explicitly, depending on how one interpreted the verbiage) banned by the Confederate Constitution's text, but also in practical terms required essentially rejecting what most of the founding generation's luminaries considered the raison d'etre of the country's institutions, as per Alexander Stephens' "Keystone Speech." To Yankees and, for that matter, most European diplomats, there was little sympathy for this position - the Confederacy had tested the patience of other powers with its belligerency, and it had gambled with incredibly high stakes in starting a war of choice with the United States and losing. [1] But as a matter of internal politics, it was a herculean task, and Patton was a strange and unlikely figure to accomplish it.

    Patton was not, himself, a slave owner, and he came from a background of law rather than plantation. His ascent to the heights of Confederate politics had been wholly accidental by way of the alliance of convenience that produced the Martin-Vardaman alignment to in the short-term depose Tillman's hold on the Senate and then vault Vardaman into Heritage House; he was regarded as Martin's catspaw even as President, and seen not as his own man but as an even greater lightweight than Cotton Ed Smith had been as a Tillmanite stooge. Making matters worse, he had no natural political base for the huge undertaking ahead of him, and Bloody Wednesday and its rippling aftermath had revealed what the Confederate public thought of the imposed peace.

    Luckily for Patton, however, the perception - for now - amongst the Confederate public was that the Yankees were imposing "Gunbarrel Amendments," as the proposed constitutional changes quickly became known, and this gave him space to maneuver as he prepared to call the Senate to pass the Treaty. Patton's diaries reveal that the Patton of spring 1917 was not a noble man persuaded of slavery's ills who whipped the Senate into passing its abolition but a craven man who agreed with Martin's take that the Treaty itself needed to be passed in order to appease the Yankees but suspected that there could be wiggle room on the slave question afterwards, and that if the Confederacy stalled long enough they could perhaps avoid forcing Confederate lawmakers to take what was essentially a suicidal vote - "signing our own death warrants," as Martin phrased it in a private memorandum to several colleagues.

    That being said, Patton's view on slavery was more complicated than that, because his diaries also reveal that he had concluded that there was essentially no going back to the prewar society and that the utter destruction of the previous three years, and the abolition of close to four-fifths of the Confederacy's slaves by the US Army in the course of the war and the revolts of many of those who remained in the time since effectively meant that slavery had across most of Dixie been de facto ended. Patton's long-term idea, then, was to perhaps simply formalize this: acknowledging that those freed in the course of the war were now freedmen, while avoiding again having to acknowledge a de jure abolition.

    These solutions were too cute by half, and in the end would not work, but Patton's optimism for such a stratagem was based more around persuading the angry and shocked Confederate political establishment to pass the draconian Mount Vernon Treaty and "accept that we overplayed our hand the last two times we rejected treaties with the Yankee," lest an even more punitive peace be imposed by force by the United States. In this endeavor he was helped by an unlikely ally, Oscar Underwood of Alabama.

    Underwood's importance to the immediate postwar Confederate political scene cannot be understated. As the war drew to a close, one of the few genuinely reformist Tillmanites reorganized what was left of Pitchfork Ben's tattered party into the "Democratic Opposition," which viewed the National Alliance as something of a quasi-military hybrid regime and believed that even the more circumspect Patton augured a turn towards autocracy across Dixie. Underwood was a classically Confederate politician, a mix of conservative and liberal instincts that contradicted one another but nonetheless never quite seemed to work at crosswinds, an oxymoron to observers from outside the intricate, Byzantine political world in which he worked his way up but perfectly understandable to his peers in Charlotte. He was Patton's enemy, and a dogged one, but he was also perhaps the most powerful advocate for Patton's Treaty, if for no reason other than the pragmatic realization that the Confederacy could, in fact, be destroyed further than it already had been.

    And so as March turned to April, a number of Senators who had been held under American guard in various prison camps across North Carolina were gathered in Charlotte, including men such as Tillman, Hoke Smith, Thomas Hardwick and Furnifold Simmons, all of whom were marched into the temporary Senate chambers at the Charlotte Grand Theater wearing shackles. Yankee infantrymen stood in the back of the room, rifles slung casually over their shoulders, chatting quietly and smoking confiscated Carolina cigarettes as the Mount Vernon Treaty was debated. Their presence, though subtle, sent a clear message - there was only one way this treaty would be passed.

    April 4th, 1917 was referred to in Confederate history books as the "Funeral for Old Dixie," the day that reality was, for a brief moment, broadly accepted by all corners of Confederate establishment. Patton sat in the gallery as a guest of Martin but chose not to speak; rather, the debate that unfolded was largely one in which Martin and Underwood, bitter foes otherwise, largely sang from the same songbook. "There are too few men left to fight this war should we reject this treaty," Martin said with clear dismay. "Dixie has been emptied of her people and her prosperity; it is time for us to swallow our pride, and save what little we can." Underwood concurred, remarking, "Have no doubt that this is the Yankee being generous, and this is the Yankee being kind. They have proven a tenacious foe, and a barbaric one - what barbarism will be revisited upon us with no Army left to fight them, and their soldiers in every corner of our land?"

    Nonetheless, some such as Hoke Smith vowed angrily to defeat Mount Vernon, or at least to "resist it to fully capacity," a call that was very clearly heard not long thereafter by paramilitary forces across the Confederacy. Others made clear their decision to vote in favor of the Treaty, or to abstain, was done under duress. The old lion of the Senate, Pitchfork Ben Tillman, rose shaking and weak from his chair, struggling to support his own weight as his health was in terminal decline, and pointed at the soldiers at the back fo the room. "It is their vote in favor of this Treaty today, made by my hand," he growled. It would be the last time he addressed the Confederate Senate in his life.

    After ten hours of debate, the Treaty was put to the floor, and the tension could have been cut with a knife as the Senators, including in absentia Texans, voted for or against it one by one, and it passed with seventeen ayes, and six nays. The Treaty of Mount Vernon was ratified - the Confederacy was, legally speaking, at peace at last. One wonders what may have happened had it been defeated on the floor of the Confederate Senate; would the soldiers there have simply arrested all the Senators, and started over again? Would Patton simply have advised the Senate that his administration viewed it as "ratified in practice," thus triggering a constitutional crisis in addition to a military one? Martin himself was of the view that the vote on April 4th, while indeed perhaps already funereal symbolically, was also an existential vote, and that the Confederacy would have been dissolved into multiple republics had it failed. As it was, the facts on the ground already suggested as much - wide swaths were under occupation by Yankee forces, and other parts were governed from Charlotte only in practice, held by either nobody or by local forces bandied together for mutual protection. Passing Mount Vernon, to Patton and Martin, was the first step on the long road to bringing those territories to heel.

    They simply had no idea how long that road would be..."

    - The Bourbon Restoration: The Confederate States 1915-33

    [1] AKA they fucked around and found out
     
    The African Game: The European Contest for the Dark Continent
  • "...extension of the Malcolm-Jagow Convention in 1917 to Morocco, with Sultan Abdel Aziz signing a trade agreement with the German envoy that would make them the third country, after Britain and Spain, to enjoy "special privileges" in Morocco including a small German concession in the international port of Tangier.

    In practical terms, the German-Moroccan Treaty of 1917 was a fairly minor one. It did nothing to disrupt Britain's interests in central and south Morocco, nor did it disturb Spanish ambitions in the arid "Spanish Sahara" or its territories around Ceuta and Melilla; indeed, it irritated Madrid, which had hoped to increase its sphere of influence deeper into Morocco, up to and including taking control of the port of Tetuan, an ambition driven for over a decade by Spain's devastating loss of the Philippines but checked by virulent French opposition. Morocco's dependence on British financing, firearms, and finished goods created marginal space for German economic influence in the Sultanate but did provide German culture with a greater exposure to Berber civilization and a brief boomlet in Moroccan-inspired fashions and decorations amongst the elite.

    As with many British foreign policy decisions of the time, it was easy to misread and did little more than offend France. France had desired much of Morocco's interior and northern coast for decades, and had made clear in secret communiques throughout the 1910s that a formal Spanish sphere of influence or protectorate over northern Morocco would be a cassus bellum in Africa. Spain's reluctance to enter a colonial war as it recovered from its humiliation at Japan's hand had stayed a crisis in the region, as had Sultan Abdel Aziz's triumph over his brother in 1907 and the subsequent reorganization of Moroccan debts by the British that had lowered taxes and seen the country enjoy a period of sustained prosperity. Germany's arrival as a partner in the British-Spanish operation in Morocco thus persuaded France further that the Malcolm-Jagow Convention was a secret plot by London and Berlin to encircle them, now including the Spaniards, and that it was a "forward base" for an attack on Algeria in the future. While benign in intent and even more benign in result, the German-Moroccan Treaty's hand in strengthening the Francophobic Abdel Aziz pressed France to rotate even more of her naval assets into the Mediterranean, now convinced that a future conflict was probably inevitable and that it would include Spain as well as Italy and perhaps even Greece, and that French lines of communication from Marseille to Algiers to Suez would be of utmost importance..."

    - The African Game: The European Contest for the Dark Continent
     
    The Firm Hand of Freedom: Soft Imperialism by the United States in Latin America 1917-69
  • "...the 1917 Nicaraguan elections were possibly some of the dullest in the history of the country, and as the sixth re-election of Zelaya and seventh election he had stood in, the result was obvious. What separated them from previous contests was that in 1917 there was not even the facsimile of an organized or democratic opposition; Nicaragua's Conservatives had all either been put to the sword brutally in the brief 1909 civil war, or scattered to the wind in the years thereafter, especially during the high conflict of 1913-14 with what was once Centro. Out of duty, Zelaya asked two Liberal Congressmen, Artemio Ruiz and Pelagio Rodriguez, to stand as independents so that he would not run unopposed, but he nonetheless won the election with over ninety percent of the vote.

    Was this a reflection of how Nicaraguans actually felt about Jose Santos Zelaya? Perhaps, perhaps not. Zelayismo was a curious thing, a hardened nationalism for a country that had never had any particular unity, all built around an immense pride in the Canal, which Nicaragua did not even itself own. Zelayismo had crushed the kind of landed Catholic oligarchy that had formed in Mexico and Brazil, and he had defended Nicaraguan Liberalism through three hard years of war. The country was by 1917 finally enjoying the fruits of the Canal's opening four years prior, with the war in the rear view and shipping rapidly increasing; by the end of the 1910s, small factories were spreading across the belt of land between Managua and Leon, taking advantage of their position astride the world's most important new shipping corridor.

    Of course, it bears mention that Zelaya had only won because he was propped up by the Marines and American infantrymen of Camp Foraker and Camp Hearst, named after the two American Presidents most associated with the Canal's approval and construction, as well as the Naval squadron now permanently at the Gulf of Fonseca. Zelaya would never admit as much, but in many ways he served almost entirely at the pleasure of Philadelphia, and after his death in 1919, it could be argued that the United States selected every Nicaraguan President for the next several decades before elections were even held. Newer and bigger forts were built at Foraker and Hearst, new drydocks for Naval vessels, in time large airstrips that were just as much for military planes as for commercial ones - Nicaragua was increasingly not just the site of the trans-isthmian canal linking the Pacific to the Atlantic, but one of the most important military installations on earth, and the backbone of American strategic planning..." [1]

    - The Firm Hand of Freedom: Soft Imperialism by the United States in Latin America 1917-69 [2]

    [1] And with that, we say goodbye to Jose Santos Zelaya, who had a very different relationship with the United States ITTL than the real version
    [2] Hopefully this title is wholly unsubtle in what's to come
     
    Republic Reborn
  • "...no official British ambassador in Austin, but rather an emissary from the British Colonial Office in Jamaica by the name of Sir William Horton Smythe-Johnson. Smythe-Johnson was a career civil servant with no diplomatic experience but his mission to Texas was nonetheless the equivalent, because the Foreign Office declined to send a formal emissary as that would "imply" recognition, and that was impossible for Her Majesty's Government, already extraordinarily unpopular over a mediocre British economy and the Irish conflict, as British public opinion was firmly against slavery and the British government had just acceded to American conditions of not arriving at a peace with the Confederacy sans abolition.

    It thus became that Texas, though recognized now by Mexico, Colombia, Venezuela, and a host of other smaller Latin countries including the American ally Nicaragua (to Philadelphia's chagrin), was still unrecognized as a formally independent and sovereign polity by not only the United States but all of the European states that mattered, which quietly consolidated behind Britain's position. How much of this was the doing of the Yankees was unclear; evidence leans in favor of light pressure from Lodge's State Department, but not overwhelming, and it is generally accepted by most scholars that Britain's right-wing government took the lead on making Texan independence conditional on abolition much in the way that the United States did.

    This was an enormous headache for the Texan administration, because the internal splits on abolition were starting to threaten the cohesiveness of the Republican Party as elections loomed in September for the State House. Gore and Garner shared one priority - to consolidate the control of their party over the machinery of government, and to see the United States evacuated from Texan soil before voters went to the polls. While there was no particularly organized opposition yet, the situation in Texas was highly fluid, and many sympathizers of the old Ferguson machine were willing to protest the Gore administration with their ballot rather than with rifles, such as many in the Piney Woods were doing. This slow-burn insurgency was already enough of a problem for Gore, with the Texas Republican Army successfully keeping it at bay in the east but failing to sufficiently crush it, and attacks launched from northern and southwestern Louisiana meant that Texas could not respond without triggering a broader response from powerful forces in the New Orleans area who had one of the most cohesive standing forces in the Confederate States.

    Garner, hailing from arid South Texas and having built his political career with the support of hacendados who typically did not use slave labor, was ambivalent about slavery itself but understood the deep emotional ties many Texans had to it; Texas had after all revolted against central governments over the question both in 1836 and 1861, and it was a key pillar of the state's heritage and culture. That being said, tens of thousands of Texan slaves had been evacuated by their owners eastwards, especially as the plantation economy of East Texas had collapsed in the last year of the war and the rebellion had advanced out of Laredo, meaning that the economic power base most tied to slavery's perpetuation had largely vanished, making abolition now purely a question of how sympathetic the government in Austin could be to freedmen and potential freedmen without inviting a backlash from a white majority that often did not personally own slaves, or if they did only one or two at most, but which viewed abolition as a Yankee project.

    This position was made worse for the Speaker due to Gore's staunch support of abolitionism and Sheppard's vehement opposition to it. As such, a compromise would need to be crafted, and Smythe-Johnson proposed one: London would be willing to formally recognize the Second Republic of Texas if it were to pass a "Law of Free Birth", as had been done in Brazil, as well as a guarantee that freedmen once freed could not be "re-enslaved." Garner liked the idea and viewed it as half a loaf, a stance with which Sheppard reluctantly agreed. Gore, not wanting to be caught isolated and be made a lame duck over the next two years of his Presidency, begrudgingly acquiesced shortly thereafter.

    Thus, the Free Birth Act of 1917 was passed by the Congress of Texas by surprisingly narrow margins in each house, retroactively declaring that any person born after January 1, 1915 was born free, and then subsequently passed the Freedmen Guarantee of 1917, which made re-enslavement of "any person" illegal, while declining to define what exactly re-enslavement was. In this sense, it was a preview of the abolition acts to come across the Confederacy, which would have loopholes wide enough to sail a dreadnought through, but it satisfied for the time being British and thus European public opinion and a swell of recognitions flowed in over the spring and, thus, diplomatic emissaries to Austin.

    This, predictably, put the United States in a bind. It had no formal peace treaty with Texas but per Mount Vernon was now at peace with the Confederacy, meaning that it was occupying in Philadelphia's eyes Confederate clay that simply did not recognize the formal authority of the Patton government in Charlotte. How precisely to resolve this was unclear, though American soldiers evacuated from Dallas in late April towards railheads at Texarkana and Wichita Falls, signalling their disinterest in a lengthy, enforced occupation even as their soldiers in Amarillo, Lubbock and El Paso remained where they were.

    Garner and Gore celebrated this remarkable turn of events and, indeed, were rewarded for it in September as the Republicans slightly increased their supermajorities in both Houses; the question of how to bilaterally deal with the United States and the Confederate States, however, were not about to go away anytime soon..."

    - Republic Reborn

    (Special thanks to those who gave me the idea for how to square the circle a bit with Texas in the immediate postwar on the abolition question, even if broader matters remain unresolved)
     
    A Freedom Bought With Blood: Emancipation and the Postwar Confederacy
  • "...since the bulk of Kentucky fell under the United States' control in mid-1914, there was perhaps no figure whom the U.S. Army had been as interested in capturing or, preferably, killing as Nathan Bedford Forrest II, who quickly surpassed his ancestor in infamy through his command of the Irregulars Division, which by the end of the war was not so much a division as a loose network of fireteams spread across the Midlands and central Alabama who conducted acts of sabotage, ambush, and assassination against not only Yankees but freedmen and even suspected collaborators. Their abilities to dynamite bridges and railroad tracks had dwindled as the war continued but their numbers grew, as did their access to considerably cheaper rifles, pistols and bullets. As the Confederate Army declined as a cohesive force, the intentionally decentralized Irregulars swelled to replace them as the closest thing to state authority that existed in certain parts of Dixie, interwoven with the increasingly brutal Home Guard that suspected everyone as a deserter and carried out a horrifying campaign of not only intimidation but rape, torture and murder against the civilian population.

    As such, the postwar Irregulars and Home Guard formed the nucleus of a massive paramilitary active in almost all states but with no central authority to control them and, unlike the regular infantrymen who were so shell-shocked from the horrors of frontline combat that they had simply lost the will to fight, were convinced that the "Holy Confederacy" had failed to repel the Yankee because, in the words of one anonymous commander, "we had insufficiently matched their savagery." It was simply taken for granted amongst the ex-Irregulars that the Yankees mutilated white women and encouraged freedmen to do the same, and that massacres - that nobody actually ever saw evidence of - were happening across the Confederacy simply because that was what they believed was necessary to justify their worldview.

    The Treaty of Mount Vernon thus offended the opinions of the Irregulars more than anybody else in the Confederacy, and it was such ex-Irregulars and Home Guardsmen who were often most involved in the Bloody Wednesday Riots and similar actions. News of the treaty's passage "under duress" and the emerging debate over how to proceed with the "Gunbarrel Amendments" broke the dam, and Forrest - who had been careful to control his movements for years, aware that Yankee assassins were looking for him eagerly - emerged in public near Anniston, Alabama on April 10, 1917 [1] to denounce the Treaty's passage but also go one step further.

    The Anniston Declaration, also known as the Appeal of April 10th, marked an important chapter in the postwar Confederacy as it was an all-out call to arms by Forrest. The Declaration included a document which Forrest signed in the presence of several of his commanders and asked be photographed and then published which called upon "all Confederates of ability - man, woman and child alike - to with their whole spirit and body embark in a total and unyielding resistance to Yankee barbarism and the threat of the abolition." In the speech he gave, Forrest was considerably less legalistic. Waving the signed Declaration over his head, Forrest announced, "I call forth today The Great Resistance, the most potent rising in human history of free men, to drive from our lands the Yankee through immeasurable bloodshed, and to never yield to the nigger!" With those words, the Red Summer of 1917 had effectively begun.

    Forrest was fortunate in that he had commanded the Irregulars for three years and was regarded as nearly a god amongst men by his subordinates, and this translated to his ability to rapidly reorganize his vast force into what he titled "the National Resistance Organization," as the Confederate Army, in his view, no longer represented the people through its deposition of Vardaman and acquiescence to Mount Vernon. The Anniston Declaration formed the NRO's founding document, and proclaimed that it would "resist the Yankee occupation in all areas by force, politics and commerce," opening the door to it serving as an alternative government in certain parts of the Confederacy as opposed to the now vehemently-unpopular Congress run by what was left of the Bourbon and Tillmanite movements.

    While the National Resistance served as the formal underpinning of the mass rejection by White Dixie of what Mount Vernon represented, in reality it was much more of an incoherent force than its detractors and proponents alike made it out to be. Forrest was wily and good at avoiding being caught but he had exaggerated his own capabilities as a guerilla commander frequently and his notoriety was as much myth as it was based on actual results. Rather, what was so important about not just his new organization but also the Appeal of April 10th was that it inspired the dozens of small, localist paramilitaries across the Confederacy that his men were famously bad at incorporating under their wings, paramilitaries that quickly took on the colloquial and romantic name "hillboys" who formed the much more lethal and successful auxiliary component of the Great Resistance and before long chafed just as much at Forrest's personalist project as they did the Patton-Martin government in Charlotte that they dismissed as Yankee stooges, thus maintaining operational independence.

    There was not one 'Great Resistance' of White Dixie rejecting peace and abolition - there were several of them, all in different states, with different leaders, agendas and campaigns, and that would only exacerbate the bloodshed to come as the Red Summer began..."

    - A Freedom Bought With Blood: Emancipation and the Postwar Confederacy

    [1] This date chosen as an homage to "The Death of Russia"
     
    Burning Punjab
  • "...Canadians had established themselves as the brave but brutal tip of the Empire's sphere; the 1st Canadian Regiment had distinguished itself with dozens of Victoria Crosses at Amritsar and Faisalabad and had in some ways broken the rebellion through their decisive tactics there. It was thus no surprise that the elite "Highlander Guard" of Canadian mountaineers were dispatched into Peshawar for mop-up operations and that it was them who, alongside the talented Peshawar Lancers, found V.G. Pringle and Kartar Singh Sarabha at a rebel camp about ten kilometers south of Kohat. In the space of forty minutes, the firefight between the Highlander Guard and the clique of Ghadarites saw six Canadians killed and a hundred rebels slain, including both Sarabha and Pringle; it was the most successful decapitation exercise of the war, leaving two of the most talented field commanders of the Mutiny dead and securing most of southern Peshawar for London.

    The Battle of Kohat on April 2, 1917 is often marked as an unofficial conclusion to the Mutiny. Hundreds of thousands lay dead, the majority Punjabi, and tens of thousands of Ghadarites had fled India into Afghanistan, Tibet and Persia, often to form terror cells from which to strike the Raj but many others to go into exile, particularly in China (such as Bai Bhagwan Singh) or Japan (Jatin Mukherjee). Twenty-five thousand soldiers from around the Empire, in particular Australians, had also died alongside members of the Indian Army and left villages burnt, cities gutted and the economy of Punjab in tatters, but had prevented India as a whole from detonating into mass rebellion.

    There were a variety of reasons in hindsight why Ghadar had failed, beyond the miscommunication on February 25, 1915 that had led to fatal delays in Bengal. Ghadar had small numbers and only a fraction of those involved in the party were willing to take up arms; many of their soldiers had had no part in its planning, and simply came late to the cause once the British had gotten off their back heels. The bigger issue in later analysis, in particular from Subhas Chandra Bose, was that Ghadar was too intellectual of a project, too specific to Punjab despite its efforts to attract Bengalis such as Mukherjee, and too dependent on financing and inspiration from overseas, with so much of its leadership in Canton, Tokyo or even the North American West Coast.

    Nonetheless, India had changed forever. Ghadar had marked the most substantial threat to British rule in six decades and unlike the 1857 Mutiny never really ended. Revolutionary armies may have been defeated straight up in Punjab and Peshawar, but smaller cells had embedded themselves across Bengal, the Northwest and Burma with close proximity to Chinese paramilitaries associated with the Guomindang and other radical organizations that had Canton as their Piedmont. Kohat was an important propaganda coup for Kitchener but it could not undo the considerable tensions across the Raj and the sharp decline in trust that most Indians now had for British administration, which had never been held in as high of regard as before the disaster of the 1898-99 plague. London did not entirely believe that Kohat had ended the rebellion and demanded Kitchener maintain the state of emergency in India in perpetuity, and it would not be until the summer of 1918, over a year after Kohat, that certain restrictions such as curfews and the ban on passenger rail travel were lifted. The state of emergency absolutely crushed the Indian economy, too; the number of Indians in poverty nearly doubled between 1915-19 after years of gradually improving economic conditions in the Raj, which was already treated as a closed market for British goods as it was.

    Accordingly, the Mutiny may have been over - but the scars would last for years to come, and the seeds had been sown for India's eventual casting off of the British..."

    - Burning Punjab
     
    Second Wave: The Postwar Progressive Revolution of 1917-31
  • "...curious dichotomies that were found mostly only out West.

    Hiram Johnson was a nakedly partisan Liberal, a convert to populist Sinophobia not just out of convenience but in time sincere racial conviction, and in Congress a staunch isolationist who clashed with the increasingly internationalist point of view of his party's "Eastern Establishment" concentrated in New England and New York. As Governor of California, however, he had been a trailblazing progressive, working with the Democratic majorities as well as Socialist and left-Liberal legislators to pass a raft of reforms including the most expansive open records "sunshine" laws in the country (and, at the time, the world), devolving the rights of both initiative and referendum to the public, [1] transforming California's state bureaucracy to be a much leaner, professional machine, and had tightened Prohibition laws and prosecuted public corruption while greatly curbing the powers of the Central Pacific Railroad, at the time almost a fourth branch of California's government, through forming a railroad commission before the railroads were nationalized by the Hughes administration in the winter of 1914. He had pursued a clean government underpinned by direct democracy and the war had greatly burgeoned California's industrial economy, with nitrate production in Oakland, shipbuilding in the San Francisco Bay and Long Beach, and oil production in Los Angeles becoming key staples of the war effort, with tens of thousands flocking to the Golden State for this new economy. [2]

    Johnson's election to the Senate in 1916, to take office in March of 1917, and would be replaced by William Stephens, a former Congressman and moderate progressive who while a reformer was certainly to Johnson's right. While Stephens would pursue a number of important reforms, most prominently in the advocacy for returning veterans from the war and establishing a bureau and unemployment fund for veterans in California, left-wing leaders in California suspected that he would not prove as able or willing an ally as Johnson. As such, for a group of progressive Democrats and Socialists who had formed a fine working relationship with Johnson on a case-by-case basis decided to proceed with a project they had been completing as 1916 turned to 1917, sending to his desk a constitutional amendment to write into the California constitution "a right to medical care." Johnson, a known supporter of such a provision, signed the bill - it was his second-to-last official act as Governor, as he moved the paper to the side to sign his resignation letter a moment later. The healthcare debate had arrived in American politics.

    Medical insurance, as it is today, was a complicated issue in the 1910s, made more complex by the needs of an industrial society and the dangers of both war and modern work. As such, there had been a shortage of doctors and nurses in California, and hospitals and clinics had become exponentially more expensive over the prior several years, and suddenly the idea of healthcare as a social right moved to the forefront. These were not new ideas - in European, early welfarism had explored with similar prospects, and unemployment or accident and injury insurance could be considered a version of such thinking - but even William Randolph Hearst had never proposed going as far as what California was now placing on the ballot. This was a radical step in the direction of socialized medicine.

    It was also one which, perhaps, came a bit before its time was ready, and which triggered a predictable backlash from the state's powerful insurance lobby. As it had passed the legislature by simple majority in consecutive sittings, it required a public vote of approval under the laws Johnson had seen passed, and it would go to referendum in June of 1917. Johnson was the most public champion of the amendment, however; Stephens was ambivalent, as was Senator James Phelan, both of whom worried that Chinese immigrants would be given free medical care if the amendment would be passed at taxpayer expense. More conservative Liberals swung behind the opposition, most prominently San Francisco's powerful and influential Julius Kahn, otherwise a close ally of Johnson. As such, the campaign against quickly overwhelmed the proponents, especially with Johnson in Philadelphia for the first sessions of the 65th Congress and thus unable to return to California to campaign on its behalf. A vicious fear campaign demagoguing the amendment saw it defeated, 57-43, [3] and Stephens would never try to pass a reform nearly so ambitious before his defeat in 1918 by Democrat Theodore Bell.

    Pandora's Box had been opened, however. Democrats in other states now could look to smaller reforms that would bring them closer to the goal of healthcare as a right, and social reformers such as Richard Ely, who had the ear of progressive Liberals, spoke in favor of such movements. The California amendment had been handicapped by vague language - what exactly did it mean for healthcare to be a right, anyways? - that future reformers could avoid, and the economic malaise of the postwar depression years and critical needs of shell-shocked, wounded veterans would continue building the push towards additional measures to bring quality care to all Americans over the next several decades. The unlikely coalition in California may have failed, but the movement had begun..."

    - Second Wave: The Postwar Progressive Revolution of 1917-31

    [1] By fiat, I elected not to include recall here, because I think the ease of recall elections in California are, well... silly.
    [2] Including obviously from overseas
    [3] So this is more or less true to OTL - Johnson did sign this amendment on his last day before heading to DC to be sworn in as Senator. In OTL, though, this was beaten 70-30. Upon discovering this in my research on Johnson I decided it warranted a mention as a subtle kickoff to the "Second Wave" progressivism that will really start cranking into gear in the early 1920s.
     
    Canadian federal election, 1917
  • 1917 Canadian federal election

    235 seats in the House of Commons; 118 seats for a majority

    Conservatives: 119 (-7)
    Liberals: 64 (+11)
    Ligue Nationaliste Canadienne: 42 (+2)
    United Farmers: 8 (+8)
    Labour: 2 (+1)
    Independents: 0 (-1)

    -
    "...McCarthy sported a fairly impressive record to take to Canada. The years 1914-16 had been an absolute boomtime for the economy, particularly for agricultural exports of not only grain but syrup and molasses, pork and beef, and dairy, while the country's industrial capacity had ballooned and timber yields had spiked. Both Montreal and Vancouver had emerged as among the busiest ports in the Empire, Canadian soldiery had acquitted themselves marvelously in putting down the Ghadar Mutiny in India, and the kind of tense social unrest that had typified the first decade of the century seemed largely settled. New railroads crisscrossed the country, tens of thousands of people had immigrated from across the Empire and Europe to settle the Plains, and the ambitious mega-project of building a deepwater port in Hudson Bay at Port Nelson, Manitoba [1] would be completed by summer. In addition, the Prime Minister himself was a more formidable electoral figure in his own right, shedding the more genteel trappings of much of his party for a more populist, middle class oeuvre, pivoting to portray the Liberals as creatures of the Montreal business establishment and the Tories as defenders of Canadian prosperity. The election's timing in the spring, before the realities of sharply declining agricultural prices became clear to the general public, worked in the government's favor, too.

    Whatever one expected of McCarthy, however, the expected Tory landslide did not emerge - indeed, the Tories would be the only party to lose seats as the House of Commons was expanded by fourteen members for 1917, and they would hold a bare one-seat majority once the polls closed. McCarthy, thought of as the barnstorming, popular savior of the Anglophone Canadian ascendancy, had nearly cost the government its majority, even if he had lost much fewer seats than Whitney's substantial losses four years earlier. McCarthy, despite his Francophobic bonafides throughout his career, had never been popular with the "Old Lodge," as the shadowy establishment that coordinated various Orange organizations, Anglican lay societies and Conservative riding associations was known, and despite returning a third consecutive Tory majority, McCarthy was on borrowed time.

    The 1917 elections were a watershed in many ways; they proved that the Tory dynasty, thought indestructible as recently as 1910 when it had conquered what remained of the Laurier-era Liberals and successfully contained French education and influence to the borders of Quebec, could be challenged. For Crerar, more importantly, it brought him to Ottawa, as one of eight "United Farmers" candidates who ran not as a party but as a coordinated slate of independents, auguring the performances they would turn in over the next three years across Canada. While their caucus in Ottawa may have been small and they were clearly subsidiary allies of William Fielding's opposition Liberals, small things had great beginnings, and the agrarian populist movement first triggered in 1912 had returned with a vengeance and some level of sophistication to enter the Commons as spokespeople of the farmer at a time when the economic stability of the homestead and the ranch came into serious question..."

    - The People's Prime Minister: Thomas Crerar's Remarkable Canadian Life

    [1] A project abandoned in OTL due to WW1
     
    May Rebellion
  • "...porous borders. The northern and western peripheries of the Vietnamese region of Tonkin are mountainous and heavily forested, and for millennia the villages and, in some cases, tribes in those regions have cared not a whit where borders or frontiers were drawn by either the Kings in Annam, the Emperors in China, or by 1917 the colonial offices in European capitals. The Tonkinese were culturally distinct from China but Hanoi was home to among the largest Chinese communities outside of the Middle Kingdom, and unlike the increasingly Catholic Cochinchina, Tonkin's cultural and intellectual communion with China deepened as the power of the Kuomintang spread across Guangdong and Guangshi. Border checks existed mostly on paper, and French zouaves or sepoys stationed throughout Tonkin were notoriously open to bribes. The tinder, in other words, was extremely dry in Vietnam, and ready to be lit.

    One thing that separated Vietnamese nationalist organizations from groups similar to the Kuomintang, however, was that they were not doggedly republican in nature and many moderates even envisioned a role for France in Vietnamese affairs not unlike Germany's longstanding close bilateral relationship with Siam (Germany's protectorate over Cambodia, while less harsh than French colonial rule in Indochina, was much more paternalist in nature). Phan Boi Chau was the movement's chief intellectual architect, having formed the revolutionary society Viet Nam Quang Phuc Hoi, which looked to the Katipunan of the Philippines as a direct inspiration, but the two most important figures by 1917 were not democratic republicans like Chau but rather Prince Cuong De, a close relative of the boy emperor Duy Tan, and Tran Cao Van, an influential mandarin who insinuated himself into the imperial inner circle in Hue and quickly established himself as the power behind the throne.

    What separated the 1917 uprising from the more successful one a few years later was that France was externally at peace and, after the Ghadar Mutiny had shaken India, was attentively focused on its prize Asian possession. Van's network was riven through with spies who were more than happy to sell out the plotters, and French authorities had diligently reduced the sizes of weapons depots and cycled in well-known loyalists into crucial garrisons around Hanoi and Saigon. While the steady stream of Chinese mercenaries, financed with the opium trade through Haiphong, did not abet, there was some sense that Asia had become a much more dangerous neighborhood and France was more prepared than they may have been a few years earlier.

    Nonetheless, the scope and breadth of the May Rebellion (a French name for the revolt) nonetheless caught them off-guard..."

    - Our New Asia: Revolution and Retrenchment in the Early 20th Century Far East

    "...firewires in the Hai Van Pass and the eruption of artillery bombardments of French positions around Hue signaled that the revolt was on, made official by the royal seal of Duy Tan that endorsed the putsch against the French authorities. Thousands of Vietnamese peasants flocked to the royal banner, ready to fight - already, the rebellion was considerably more legitimate and successful than what the Ghadar faction had pulled off in India two years earlier. Cuong De arrived by boat from Japan, which he admired as an ideological model for the future Vietnamese state, and was declared by his cousin the Emperor as Prime Minister once Duy Tan's evacuation from Hue was secure. Within the span of a few days in early May, not only had Hue fallen, but also strategically important towns on its periphery such as Quang Nam.

    The May Rebellion being centered at Hue caused a number of issues right off the bat for the French. It essentially cut Vietnam in half, which theoretically was not a major problem due to French control of the seas thanks to their naval stations at Cam Ranh and Haiphong, but created a strategic opening for the rebels to park themselves astride the major north-south roads. There was also the symbolic factor of Hue, Vietnam's ancient imperial city, being the epicenter of the revolt; this was not some peasant uprising in the rice paddies of the Mekong Delta or the highlands of western Tonkin but the Emperor himself and his fairly sophisticated, French-designed bureaucracy calling for the expulsion of the French government entirely from Vietnamese lands.

    As was tradition, the French administration in Vietnam was headed by a civilian, in this case Albert Sarraut, who had returned to the Orient just in January for a second spell as Governor-General. Sarraut was a talented bureaucrat and by the standards of French domestic politics a relative moderate; he admired Southeast Asian "native" art and promoted its enjoyment in the Metropole, but he was also a firm paternalist who viewed the education of the Vietnamese as a method not to improve their standing but rather to Frenchify them culturally and morally. The economy of Vietnam had grown substantially under his previous spell, but he was no military man; to that end, he called upon the Foreign Legion and its notorious Oriental commander, Paul-Frederic Rollet, to be deployed to put down the revolt.

    Rollet's station of Saigon meant that he could march rapidly up the coast, which was considered necessary as the rebel forces were moving quickly to secure roads and telegraph cables in the vicinity of Da Nang, only eighty kilometers south along the shore from Hue. The port city fell to Duy Tan's army on May 17th, nine days after the revolt began, and suddenly the rebels could easily accept arms from overseas - with Chinese nationalist cells out of Canton and Hong Kong or Filipino and Japanese sympathizers thought of as the likeliest culprits.

    On May 20, Sarraut's residence in Hanoi was attacked by a mob and he was forced to flee to a waiting French cruiser in Haiphong's harbor, and though the French garrison in Hanoi put down the riots and repelled an organized band of revolutionaries headed by Phan Boi Chau and the famed Tonkinese intellectual Nguyen Thuong Hien, it badly destabilized the situation. In the space of two weeks, France had been put badly on her back heels across central and northern Indochina - and it was certain that the world was watching..."

    - The French Orient

    "...irony of the eruption of the May Rebellion occurring just as the Ghadar Mutiny in India had been mostly put down, though the vast, ungovernable highlands north of Burma and east of India were seen in Paris as being the "Piedmont of Asian revolution" nonetheless, and more than a few at the Deuxieme Bureau were quick to suggest that Cantonese gangs closely affiliated with the Kuomintang had helped finance and arm Duy Tan's rebels.

    Despite the ample evidence for the chief ideological support for Duy Tan's revolution stemming from Japanese and Chinese sources (with a dose of inspiration from Ghadarites and the Filipino republicans), Poincaré saw more sinister designs from, where else, Germany. Since 1904, when King Norodom had died, the German protectorate of Cambodia had been ruled by his successor Yukanthor, who took a militantly hard line against the Vietnamese generally and the French more specifically, convinced that French designs on Indochina had never fully ended even after the Bangkok Gunboat Crisis of 1892 and that France would eventually, in what he saw as an inevitable "confrontation" with Germany, seek to indulge Vietnam's historical claims over the Khmer. Siam, an ally of Germany rather than a vassal, had also never forgiven French saber-rattling over the Mekong Valley in 1892 and the forced territorial concessions that Siam had been asked to swallow in the subsequent Treaty of Madrid. Siam's king, Rama VI (personal name Vajiravudh), was perhaps not the titanic, Meiji-esque figure that his father had cut, but since coming to the throne in 1910 nonetheless aimed to continue pursuing his modernizing reforms and had decentralized, democratized and formalized much of the Siamese state without being too reliant on Western methods and theories, building broad popularity with his people even as he declined to promulgate a constitution.

    The relationship between Berlin, Phnom Penh and Bangkok was cordial and close, but also complicated; Rama VI was not as instinctively trusting of the "Bavarians" as his father had been, while Yukanthor often chafed at Germany's foreign policy decrees and was horrified at the thought that Berlin might one day do to Cambodia the horrors it had visited upon Mindanao. In short, the idea that the May Rebellion was a plot hatched on the Wilhelmstrasse and carried out by Indochinese interlopers was nonsense. Nonetheless, Poincaré found the idea persuasive, at least in terms of what he coined as "silent support" - money, arms, and a quiet place for Vietnamese rebels such as Phan Boi Chau to hide in exile and map out their next steps, even after Germany denounced the May Rebellion in a diplomatic missive and pledged support for the French response to their "internal matter."

    Indeed, the European reaction to Vietnam was one of horror, possibly even more so than what had occurred in Punjab over the previous two years - proportionately and in terms of direct threat to French control, it was the largest colonial revolt since the Spanish-Philippine War. French forces were to be rapidly gathered from across Africa and other parts of Asia and deployed immediately; and more than a few mercenaries from all over Europe and the Americas volunteered..."

    - La Politique Mondiale: Poincaré, France and the Waltz of the Great Powers
     
    The Root of the Problem: The Tumultuous Term of America's 29th President
  • "...late 1910s a Supreme Court that included three staunch progressives in Brandeis and Clarke, appointed by Hearst, and William Morrow, somehow an appointee of Foraker; three moderates, comprising Hughes' Justices in Mack and Kenyon and their role model, Holmes; and finally three conservatives, Chief Justice Taft first among them and then Judson Harmon and, finally, Robert T. Lincoln. This rough breakdown of the bench's ideological alignment was inexact - Taft as Chief was much swingier than he had been as an associate justice, and both Holmes and Harmon were in many ways products of a previous generation of jurists with some heterodox views - but it was generally the understood spectrum of opinions on the highest court in the land, reshaped dramatically by the deaths of Melville Fuller and George F. Edmunds in 1910 and 1914, respectively, which continued the bench's rapid movement towards tolerance if not advocacy of judicial progressivism that manifested itself in Brandeis' theory of legislative supremacy and a limited role for judicial interference in the law.

    Of the Justices, the man who disagreed most sharply with this take was Robert Lincoln, the second-most tenured Justice behind Harmon and the last of its ultraconservatives. It would be impolitic and overly harsh to dismiss Lincoln simply as a reactionary legal hack, but the more isolated he became on the Court after the deaths of former fellow travelers such as Justice Edwin Phelps or Fuller, his idiosyncrasy and contempt for emerging legal doctrines became all the more apparent. That all said, it was not Lincoln's legal ideology that diminished his reputation as a jurist, but rather the nature of his appointment; he was the son of a former President, had been a loyal Cabinet officer in the Blaine years and, like Nathan Goff some years later, translated that service into a lifetime appointment to the bench, but more importantly he was a longtime close family friend of the President who appointed him, John Hay, and his appointment came at the height of the Pullman Strike, a company he had represented legally for many years. Lincoln also had a reputation as a man who tended to have an anti-Midas touch; he was partly blamed for helping the United States stumble into a gunboat war in the 1880s with Chile, and his appointment to the bench had temporarily damaged Hay's political standing and helped cement impressions in the Western states of the Liberals as a clique of Eastern aristocrats passing government jobs around to their boarding school and university friends like Britain's Old Etonians. It was perhaps fitting, then, that Lincoln's retirement from the Supreme Court in May of 1917 would trigger the first political debacle of Root's young Presidency, as political debacles had followed Lincoln everywhere in his career and life.

    Root was unsurprised when Taft informed him via letter that Lincoln would be unlikely to return at the start of the next Supreme Court term, considering Lincoln's age and ideological diminution on the Court. Lincoln made it official a week later at a dinner with the Illinois Bar Association, drawing mixed reactions as he did not announce his stepping down from the bench in Philadelphia, as had been expected earlier. Indeed, Lincoln never returned to the capital, at least not for anything other than informal visits with friends, instead splitting his time in retirement between his family home in Chicago and a lavish home in Manchester, Vermont where he served as president of the local golf course and dabbled in amateur astronomy until his death in 1926. The administration had suspected that Lincoln was waiting out the end of the war as a courtesy before retiring, especially after the death of Edmunds from complications of an injury suffered in the evacuation of Washington; Van De Vanter noted in a letter to a friend that it was also a possibility that Lincoln may not entirely have approved of Hughes' choices in Mack and Kenyon, two Justices well to his left, and wanted to make sure a more ideologically compatible man was appointed in his stead, and that he trusted Root more on that front (this idea is largely disputed by Lincoln's biographers and Supreme Court scholars, but it was bandied about by a few men in Root's orbit).

    There was no paucity of quality jurists from which to pick for Lincoln's seat, and Root had a careful balancing act ahead of him, with the Liberal majority in the Senate razor-thin. With the exception of Lincoln and Brandeis, most Supreme Court justices were approved fairly easily, especially when the President's party held the Senate; in cases where they did not, the opposition had a major role in shaping who exactly could realistically be appointed, which was how Hughes wound up with men like Mack and Kenyon. Root faced Senate math somewhere in between, with the typical Presidential prerogatives around judicial appointments likely to be honored but the bounds of his potential appointments likely to be tested by Democrats and some progressive Liberals. As such, his initial choice of Pierce Butler was a bizarre one, understood in the Senate as a provocation.

    Butler was on paper a theoretically politically shrewd choice - he was an Irish Catholic, the son of immigrants who had fled the Great Famine, who hailed from Minnesota. As a Minnesotan Irish Catholic Liberal he was already a rare breed thought to appeal, potentially, to Irish Catholic voters whom the party had still failed to court even after their victory in the war and whom Root was particularly eager to appeal to after the massive demonstrations of March 17th. Butler also had not served on a court previously, spending his entire career in private practice, and thus had no rulings that would make him controversial, while also having served as president of the Minnesota Bar. Nonetheless, his nomination proved immediately a huge political firestorm. He was a railroad lawyer being asked to replace a former railroad lawyer - it was widely understood by progressives what exactly that entailed. Speeches and writings Butler had made over the years revealed a particular hostility to many of the doctrines and precedents of the Edmunds and Taft courts that had broadly expanded the federal government's powers, including the ability to levy an income tax. Worse, he had suggested expelling "radical" students from the University of Minnesota (where he had briefly served on the Board of Regents) and had argued cases on behalf of the Canadian government, earning him skepticism from isolationist Midwesterners and anti-Orange Irish Catholics who would have otherwise been his strongest base of support.

    The eruption of the Minneapolis General Strike as Butler's nomination was to go before the Senate just before the summer recess essentially defeated the bid. Suddenly, Butler's cases in his home state came under even greater scrutiny, including his ties to various Minnesotan conglomerates involved in the strike; Senator Ole Hanson of Washington announced his opposition to Butler's nomination, as did LaFollette, and both of Minnesota's Democratic Senators, who had previously been cautiously supportive, concurred. Root, seeing flashbacks of Hay's campaign to get Lincoln over the hump at the height of the Pullman Strike, blinked and informed the press after leaving a golf match he would withdraw Butler's nomination, rather than have Butler decline it to save face, a move that his opponents saw as emphatically weak and ungentlemanly.

    Having observed that firestorm, Van De Vanter shrewdly let Root know he was uninterested in the job, and so Root was on to his third choice - George Wickersham, the longtime President of the New York Bar Association. Wickersham was no moderate, but he was generally viewed as more collegial than Lincoln and was well-liked in Liberal circles for his efforts to promote Black attorneys within that organization (in sharp contrast to his anti-Semitism, which had erupted during Brandeis' nomination seven years earlier). Conservative but uncontroversial, and unlikely to modify the makeup of the Court, Wickersham advanced to the floor of the Senate, where no Liberals opposed him but only five Democrats voted in support. Butler had done real lasting damage not only to Root, but to the mechanisms of Supreme Court nominations, for some time to come as the deference and unanimity once considered surefire seemed to evaporate. Butler would continue in private practice until his death in 1939, one of the most prominent lawyers on the Supreme Court bar in time even if he seldom won cases; as for Wickersham, his sixteen years on the bench saw him often in the minority and consigned as a mediocre and historically unimportant Justice in the grand history of the Court..."

    - The Root of the Problem: The Tumultuous Term of America's 29th President
     
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    Heinrich: The Life and Legacy of Germany's Goldkaiser
  • "...colloquial term of Ostflucht - flight from the East.

    This was not merely a pattern reflected in Germany, of course. The east-to-west migration pattern was common across Europe. Romanian and Galician minorities, in particular Jews, migrated to major cities like Budapest, Vienna, Pilsen and Prague. Anatolian Turks made their way to Salonica, Uskup, Sofia and Sarajevo. Italians were the most common migrant or seasonal worker in France, Finns had begun finding their ways to Swedish mines, logging camps and smelters by the late 1910s, and Spaniards who looked west only to the Atlantic found ample opportunities across the culturally similar Latin New World.

    It held particular economic and political import within Germany, however, as it was a largely domestic and internal movement and that it had very particular ideological connotations for the Junkers. For decades, if not centuries, there had been a romanticized sense that Germany's destiny lay to its east, as it had in the Teutonic times, a belief as fundamental to then-contemporary German nationalism as the pacification of western North America had been in the national mythos of the United States and Canada. Not only was this a culturally expansionist policy, it was also one that was viewed as largely economically beneficial to the Junkers, who owned their vast estates east of the Elbe and due to their positions within the Prussian military and bureaucracy saw themselves as modern-day heirs to the Teutonic knights. Plans to colonize Polish-speaking territories of Prussia with German settlers had been government policy, explicitly, under Bismarck, and this stance was a fundamental component of the silent partnership between Germany and Russia to suppress Polish nationalism along their borderlands.

    Something had happened, though, to prevent the Germanizing dreams of the Junkers in the East - the successful industrialization and urbanization of Germany, and the economic deadweight that the inefficient East Elbian estates represented within that paradigm. Between the final unification of Germany in 1868 and the start of the Central European War a half century later, tens of thousands of Germans from Posen, Pomerania and West Prussia in particular made their way westwards. Many wound up in the mines of Silesia, not too far from their ancestral homes, while most found their way to factories within Prussia throughout the booming Rhineland. They were followed close behind by many Poles, who within a generation despite worshipping in separate parishes and often attending separate schools were often in Rhenish cities nearly fully Germanized, even with surnames like Wisniewski or Kasinski.

    The East only avoided stagnant population growth thanks to high birthrates and a different Ostflucht phenomenon, that of Russian Poles and Ashkenazi Jews from the Pale of Settlement shifting into the Posen region (and some Volga Germans emigrating from Russia, though in such small numbers as to have minimal impact). This ironically shifted the demographics of the population east of the Oder even less German, even as it drove down labor costs for itinerant farmers on the Junker estates. This helped take a bite out of the costs of the protective agricultural tariffs they continued to demand, but severely crippled the settlement policy in the East and created deep doubts in the Prussian state about its ability to successfully "Germanize" much of anything, and such views were before long staunchly held by the Kaiser - with major, considerable impacts down the line when it came time to draft the treaties that eventually ended the Central European War..."

    - Heinrich: The Life and Legacy of Germany's Goldkaiser
     
    The Statesman: The Spain of Jose Canalejas
  • "...despite its latter year reputation as the bastion of Spanish conservatism as defined by modern-day leftists in post-industrial Andalusia and Catalonia, Madrid in the 1910s was instead rather a liberal stronghold, the beating heart of National Liberalism as the defined center of not just the Spanish state but indeed Spain's intellectual project of an inclusive, centralized country founded on common values and equality before the law rather than regionalism. It was Madrid's cafes that were filled with the leading lights of Spanish liberal thought, the Gran Retiro the park where politicians, lawyers and other advocates could debate one another on long strolls or rowboat rides in its vast central pond. It was in 1917 that Canalejas secured the funding to massively expand the campuses of not only the University of Madrid [1] but the Autonomous University, placing the capital at the center of Spanish learning and higher education, with both institutions today regarded not only as part of the city's economic lifeblood due to their vast size but held as some of the greatest centers of learning in Europe and the Spanish-speaking world.

    Of course, there was a great deal of chagrin to this. Barcelona's Catalan nationalists and anarchists chafed at the idea that anything of value flowed out of Madrid other than their own repression; even fairly liberal-minded thinkers such as the staunch social liberal Miguel de Unamuno dismissed Madrid as a traditionalist Castilian stronghold, backwards compared to the cosmopolitan ports of Bilbao, Barcelona or Cadiz. Nonetheless, the Canalejas era that was marked by Spain's economic rejuvenation was as much a time of cultural renaissance unseen since the years immediately succeeding La Gloriosa, with public life in Madrid reinvigorated to make it the centrifugal force around which Spanish liberalism rotated.

    And, by proxy of course, it meant that Madrid and its personalities became even further entrenched as the critical cogs in the National Liberal machinery as the power of the regional caciques continued to decline and more and more influence flowed towards the Tagus..."

    - The Statesman: The Spain of Jose Canalejas

    [1] OTL's Complutense
     
    Ferdinand: The Last Emperor
  • "...the 1907 negotiation had been straightforward, simply over duties, spending, and contributions to the joing Austro-Hungarian military; indeed, the impression some in Vienna had had after them was that it was Hungary that had made some unexpected concessions. The 1917 round, however, had long been expected to be something different; it would come ten years later, with the Greens able to organize themselves in the interim and for Hungarian society to polarize further. It would land at the symbolic date of fifty years since the original Ausgleich and just a century after the Congress of Vienna. For Karolyists, it was an open question as to why exactly Hungary should continue to be governed under auspices a half-century or older. The ghosts of 1848 were still haunting Budapest, as it ever was.

    The core problem ahead of the votes was that the Whites, who in theory supported Bethlen's cabinet of technocrats and obscure minor nobles, did not have a majority in the Diet, and if the renewal of the Compromise was defeated on the floor of the legislature then all hell was likely to break loose thereafter even if in practice the "expiration" of the previous terms would do little. It was symbolic - Hungary rejecting Compromise with Vienna would suggest a potential constitutional crisis, and not long after the events of November that had seen Apponyi cast to the wolves. As such, Ferdinand was not necessarily negotiating with Bethlen on the course ahead but also Karolyi, which immediately created massive problems that threatened to sink the whole endeavor.

    Contrary to his portrayal in popular history, Karolyi was not as radical as his reputation suggested. He was a monarchist and indeed of noble origin; his views on domestic matters, setting aside his fierce Magyar nationalism, would not have been too different from many of the liberal landed nobility in the British House of Lords or Prussian Herrenhaus. The notion that he was a syndicalist instigator or a republican idealist are nonsense. That being said, Karolyi was aware of the moment at hand. Not only were his faction of the Greens firmly in the driver's seat, he took the survival of the Party of Independence in late February as a sign that it was time to press harder ahead.

    One of the profound ironies of this hour, however, was that Karolyi - despite his maneuvering himself to the top of the Greens - had before 1916 been considered something of a naive and colorful gadfly by the Hungarian public. He was known for his drinking and gambling, for his lavish lifestyle and frequent travails in Parisian salons, and his being yet another powerful aristocrat (his wife as a lesser Andrassy) rather than for his political acumen and talent. Indeed, of the two men who helped plunge Hungary into crisis from the left, it was Jaszi who was the more powerful intellectual and capable organizer, having built the Radicals from the ground up. Nonetheless, Karolyi found himself thrust into the spotlight when Bethlen announced his Cabinet's initial proposal for the renewal of the Compromise on May 10th, 1917.

    The Bethlen Compromise was a surprisingly liberal and nationalist document for being drafted by a cabinet supported by the minority Whites. It proposed an expansion of suffrage to a full twenty-two percent of the population and proposed a financial settlement that favored Hungary (largely by undoing the concessions of 1907). For Karolyi, this was not good enough. On May 13th, having read the proposal, he gave a speech flanked by Jaszi that demanded a secret ballot before they would sign onto any "negotiation;" further, Karolyi announced that the terms of the financial renewal would need to be further adjusted in Hungary's favor, potentially including Hungary's right to mint its own currency, and opened the door to a "constitutional compromise" rather than a financial one, with his most radical proposal being re-empowering the Palatine of Hungary to act as the Emperor-King's viceroy. That Archduke Joseph August was the titular (though entirely powerless) Palatine was a major factor in this proposal; Joseph August was well-liked by the Hungarian street amongst both ethnic Magyars and the minorities, and his sympathies for the cause of the Lands of St. Stephen were well known even if he kept them private to avoid embarrassing his cousins in Vienna.

    Ferdinand was aghast, though at first discussions around a response were limited. Several advisors suggested calling Karolyi's bluff and having Bethlen put his initial proposal on the floor of the Diet; this was a popular course of action amongst more moderate "Prague Circle" figures whom Ferdinand had spent the last six months bringing into his immediate orbit in Vienna. It should be clear that there was no suggestion that Ferdinand actually take Karolyi seriously or attempt to engage with him, as such a suggestion would have seen whoever made it ejected from the Schonbrun in quick order. The view that won out came from Moritz von Auffenberg, a staff officer promoted within the War Ministry shortly before Franz Josef's death and for years a close confidant of the new Emperor from outside the famed Prague clique. Auffenberg denounced Karolyi as a traitor and proposed his immediate exile for threatening "the constitutional underpinnings of the Hungarian state." Bethlen was alarmed at this provocation but it was a popular position amongst many Whites, who hoped that Karolyi's exit stage left would allow more "malleable" Greens like Apponyi to once again enjoy sway.

    As such, after Karolyi again threatened to defeat the Compromise and again demanded a "constitutional congress" to resolve the issues at the heart of Austria-Hungary, Bethlen announced their immediate arrest for inciting rebellion against the Crown but signalled through intermediaries to Karolyi that if he immediately went into exile, he would not be molested by the authorities in transit. Karolyi, Jaszi and sixteen others, primarily of the Radical Party, thus fled in late May to the port of Fiume and from there sailed across the Adriatic to Italy, where on June 4th they gathered in Milan and announced a "Democratic Government of Hungary" in exile, proclaiming to "represent the general interests of the Magyar people within the Habsburg realms." (Note that this declaration still recognized Habsburg authority, and very pointedly recognized "Magyar" peoples). These "Milan Magyars" became a sensation in European diplomatic circles, utterly unrecognized but still seen as an interesting novelty if for nothing else the enormous provocation that this represented. Italy's ambassador to Vienna (not Budapest) visited Ferdinand within days to assure him that Italy did not recognize Karolyi in the least and dismissed the Democratic Government as an "idle thought experiment by aggrieved exiles;" Ferdinand did not see it that way and was privately angered that Italy did not expel Karolyi over the risk he represented to Austro-Italian relations, insulted that the government of Antonio Salandra did not place the Milan Magyars on the first train to Switzerland, as was regarded as the proper course of action to do with such instigators.

    The proclamation of a pseudo-cabinet in Milanese exile caused massive problems for Bethlen, as well. Massive protests erupted across Budapest in June and July, with no renewal of the Compromise in sight. The Prime Minister was a dedicated White but nonetheless, and probably correctly, deduced that Hungarian public opinion needed to be sated more than Viennese elite opinion and that the path out of the crisis needed to be found in Hungary. He thus resubmitted his Compromise proposals, this time with crucial modifications around military spending that proposed a slight reduction in the size of the Common Army and a substantial increase in the size of the Honved, and critically he published this new package of reforms tied to the renewal of the Compromise in Hungarian newspapers as the "Compromise for Peace." It did not go so far as the near-wholesale rejection of 1867 that Karolyi supported that would have essentially returned to a personal union, but it was a much greater step than any other White would likely have taken.

    Had Ferdinand accepted this proposal, history may have gone very different. Hungarian radicals may not have been entirely satisfied but Bethlen had voluntarily placed his neck on the headsman's block, politically, to rescue the Ausgleich after only four months in office. But this revision was not accepted, as much due to Ferdinand's refusal to consider any constitutional modifications that further decentralized the Habsburg realm as the War Ministry's apoplexy at the idea of a strong, independent Honved that served as anything more than a home guard. The rejection of this peace offering saddened Bethlen, and on principle he resigned on July 20th, 1917. The crisis deepened dramatically, but Bethlen was seen by his countrymen as choosing Hungarian honor over prostrating himself to Vienna, and he was one of the few figures of the 1916-19 prewar crisis to emerge with his reputation intact to the point that he became a key figure of postwar Hungary thereafter..."

    - Ferdinand: The Last Emperor
     
    Minneapolis General Strike (Part I)
  • "...the fundamental premise of "Root-ism," if such an ideology could be said to exist, was that the Republic needed an experienced and sober-minded President for the immediate postwar period, and that Elihu Root was uniquely equipped for such a task both from an administrative and partisan point of view. He had served in every Liberal administration
    since the party's foundation and thus retained a singular understanding of the machinery of federal government both in practice and in theory, and knew every major player in both parties across the country.

    There was a second piece to this, however, beyond simply running on a vague idea of "experience" - that the Liberals, having won the war, could deliver to the public a worthy peace and a "return to normalcy" away from wartime rationing and the devastation of the front. This would have been a profoundly difficult task to accomplish for any man in this position - historians have generally taken the view that Hughes would have failed in this endeavor, and that a Democratic President such as George McClellan Jr. or a fourth-term William Randolph Hearst would have as well - but those specific choices made by Root, especially by his Cabinet, set his administration up to be particularly dismal. Several of those problems came home to roost as early as the spring of 1917, and were perhaps typified by the chaos of the Minneapolis General Strike, regarded at that time as probably the largest strike in the history of the United States, at least since the "Strikeout Summer" of 1886 or the Pullman Strike of 1894 - both events Root had witnessed himself as a Cabinet officer.

    The General Strike's causes were myriad and complex, a mix of wartime and postwar labor grievances, ethnic tensions peculiar to Minnesota, and the economic shock of the end of the war, but whatever else helped cause it was badly exacerbated by the decision on May 5th, 1917 to wind up the Grain Board and suspend price controls. This was not entirely Root's doing; the Grain Board had already relaxed a number of controls since the fall before his inauguration, and by the time he took the oath of office it was probably one of the most unpopular institutions in the United States thanks to its aggressive moralizing policing of the use of grains to make beer in states where alcohol was legal (the cause of the infamous Milwaukee Beer Crisis in 1914), its arbitrary use of price controls and issuing of credit to farmers, and a general sense in the Farm Belt that its governors knew little about agricultural economics and didn't care to. Prairie Democrats like Dakota's John Burke had called for the Grain Board's abolition as early as late 1915, and the general contempt for it was one of the few things that the populist agrarian Western Wall had in common with the laissez-faire small-government Liberals that populated Root's administration to a much greater extent than Hughes'.

    Where they disagreed, however, was on the solution. Burke and other Western Senators were of the belief that the Grain Board should be replaced by a permanent farm support bureau that provided agricultural credit, hail insurance, and other price supports farmers had long called for but which had been introduced piecemeal in the Hearst era and never quite to their satisfaction. Bills to that effect were drafted and introduced; in the meantime, Mellon called for the Board's suspension ahead of the 1917 planting season, of the belief that most farmers would prefer to proceed with their harvest knowing they were not at the mercy of the Board's decisions. Early May was fairly late for such an endeavor, and due to that Stimson argued vociferously that the decision should be punted until after the harvest, but Root deferred to Mellon for the first but not the last time over the suggestions of his protege, and signed the executive order winding up the Grain Board, with it set to be entirely disbanded no later than July 1st..."

    - The Root of the Problem: The Tumultuous Term of America's 29th President

    "...only Ireland produced a proportionately higher level of emigres in the 19th and early 20th centuries than Norway, and the Irish emigrated to a far broader number of destinations than just the United States. The manpower needs of the Great American War and an economic depression in the mid-1910s had driven almost two hundred thousand Norwegians, [1] more than five percent of the country's population, across the Atlantic in the space of just five years, and unlike the massive amounts of Italians, Serbs and Greeks who flocked to American factories to provide wartime muscle, few if any of them returned to their cold, impoverished home. Norwegians found their way all over the United States, with large communities forming in Seattle, Chicago, Spokane, Dakota's Red River Valley, and Butte, but nowhere saw as many as in such high amounts as Minnesota.

    What set Minnesota aside demographically, too, was that while most Norwegians were economic migrants, a huge wave had arrived a decade earlier in the wake of the failed war of independence, the so-called Fivers (referencing 1905), of whom Michelsen was the north star but whom quickly diversified politically, as Norwegian nationalism was a large tent that included not just the conservative classical liberals like Michelsen but socialists and everything in between. This political sentiment was exacerbated by the fact that in Minnesota, the Norwegians found themselves in a place dominated politically by a machine of Swedes and German Lutherans, giving Minnesota an ethnic-based politics both unique to its state and complete opaque to outsiders, who had little understanding what exactly the tensions were all about, with many Americans, despite the long-running stereotype of the "Swedish nanny," not being able to tell the two cultures apart whatsoever. [2] Within the Twin Cities, however, it was a sharp contrast. Norwegians had their own Lutheran parishes and schools, their own grocers and laundries, and the Sons of Norway, a fraternal organization that quickly became the backbone of Minneapolis society and provided life and health insurance, legal aid and unemployment support. Social intermixing with Swedes, who tended to concentrate either in a different part of Minneapolis or in St. Paul across the Mississippi River, was almost nonexistent unlike in other areas, such as the more diverse Seattle, and Norwegians, regardless of their views on policy and despite the influence of long-tenured Norwegian-born (and Fiver-sympathetic) Senator Knute Nelson, stubbornly refused to vote for the Democratic Party that dominated Minnesota politics if for no reason other than that it was at that time run primarily by Swedes, such as Senator John Lind or the new governor, Charles A. Lindbergh.

    Minneapolis thus was a fairly unusual place ethnically with a particular set of grievances and tensions within its public, which exacerbated its peculiar economic conditions as well. The Twin Cities lay at the point where two of the four major transcontinental railroads met after crossing Montana and the Dakotas and also upon the Mississippi River, thus making it one of the most critical junction points for transportation east, west and south in the United States. Its position also placed it where the industrial Midwest met the agrarian Farm Belt, and sat in close proximity to the Iron Range and steel mills of Duluth, possibly the most politically radical city in the country. As such, it had surged in population and industrial production during the war, as shipments passed through on nationalized railroads and barges of weapons and grain were shipped south to the front along with armed gunboats produced in St. Paul. It was a city unusually dependent on farming and industry and transport logistics, formerly the headquarters of Great Northern and Northern Pacific before the Rail Nationalization Order and still the headquarters of General Mills, the city's largest and most important employer with its massive grain elevators, warehouses, and mills. The suspension of the Grain Board and its price controls, and the anticipation of the re-privatization of the railroads soon thereafter, thus struck the city hard and suddenly at a time when thousands of veterans were returning to Minnesota only to find that jobs were scarce as factories laid off employees and downsized production needs with War Department contracts expiring, and consumer goods were prohibitively expensive after nearly four years of rationing and a major focus on war materiel being produced instead.

    Michelsen was not entirely unsympathetic to organized labor, and indeed in his antipathy for the Swedish-dominated Democrats had endorsed the Socialist Thomas Van Lear for Mayor of Minneapolis in one of the final instances of the strange, era-specific municipal alliance between classic liberals and social democrats opposed to perceived Democratic corruption. Nonetheless, his liberalism was genuinely held, and he had campaigned with vigor for the Root-Garfield ticket in Minnesota even if it was in vain. He was thus not surprised when on June 1st, after General Mills refused a 12% pay raise after three years of wage controls during the war, ten thousand mill workers walked off the job and announced a strike, and in a letter written in the Norwegian-language Minnesota Norsk-Advokat he urged General Mills to negotiate with the workers as grain, wheat and beef futures absolutely collapsed across the board following the end of price controls. This encouragement fell on deaf ears, and by the end of the week, railroad workers announced they would no longer ship General Mills products out of sympathy, and dockworkers below the Falls of the Mississippi announced similar provisions. The Minneapolis General Strike had begun..." [3]

    - Andre Sjanse: Christian Michelsen in America


    [1] About 800,000 Norwegians emigrated to the US between 1825-1925 IOTL, for reference, so the USA is a whole lot more Norsk here with these kinds of numbers both heightened and sustained
    [2] This happens a lot to me personally, lol
    [3] Two notes. Yes, this is basically just an amalgamated version of the Seattle General Strike and the Winnipeg General Strike. Second, this got a bit too into the weeds on Norwegian-Swedish ethnic relations in Minneapolis so I wasn't able to cover the whole strike in one update as I'd hoped, but Part II will be forthcoming soon.

    (Also: special thanks to @DanMcCollum for his thoughts on helping me come up with some ideas for the Minneapolis strike)
     
    Minneapolis General Strike (Part II)
  • "...Van Lear was Minneapolis' first Socialist mayor, elected on a platform of not only good-government reform (in other words, combatting the Swedish-American and Irish-American machine in the city, which appealed enormously to Norwegians and progressive middle class swing voters who had previously skewed Liberal) but also on a platform of tending to the veterans of the war returning in droves by November of 1916 from the front or discharged. By the Red Summer of 1917, as it came to be called due to the boiling-over political events on both sides of the Ohio, Minneapolis was awash in unemployed laborers whom Van Lear had made it a key of his political platform to help.

    By the standards of Socialist candidates of the time, Van Lear was not particularly radical. He had been one of the party's most full-throated supporters of the war, in contrast with ultra-pacifist figures like Haywood who had with their stance driven themselves into irrelevancy. His program for urban reform looked more like that of men like former Cleveland Mayor (and Democratic Vice President) Tom Johnson than genuine iconoclasts like Milwaukee's Seidel or Seattle's Wells. Indeed, his main priority was growing the labor movement as a whole, butting heads with a city council narrowly controlled by the machine and its business allies and he refused to actively ban the IWW's activities in the city, or to prevent city unions from associating with it, which endeared him to Haywood.

    The General Strike thus proved a crucial moment early in his two-year tenure as Mayor. Within a week of the first walk-off on June 1st, thousands of additional workers from all manner of industries had joined in on a massive sympathy strike, technically illegal under Minnesota law, even though they were technically only targeting General Mills specifically. For the first eleven days of the strike, the mood was peaceful and almost that of a festival atmosphere; children played under the supervision of their picketing parents, there were small cooktops brought out to make meals, and Norwegian and Finnish flags were flown alongside the American one and the red socialist banner as folk songs in native languages were sung. Van Lear made his critical choice on June 12th, when under severe pressure from the city council, especially its President, J.E. Meyers, he formally rejected a proclamation by the council demanding all strikers in Minneapolis immediately go home and attempting to compel the Mayor to deploy the police against the strikers. The next day, in a meeting with the head of the Minneapolis Police Association - one of the first cities where the police informally organized, if still unchartered and technically not a union - Van Lear made it clear that he would not retaliate against officers who joined the picket lines and would "look favorably" upon attempts to formally organize not merely as a chapter of the Fraternal Order of Police but as a genuine union after the strike if they would so please, a move that was popular with many of the rank-and-file but was vehemently opposed by the city council once word reached them of the meeting.

    At this point, deep into the second week of the strike, sympathy actions had begun across Minnesota and even into northern Wisconsin and Michigan, now expanding to include Hormel Foods, another major agricultural producer in the region, as well as subsidiary mines in the Iron Range and Upper Peninsula that supplied US Steel or National Lead. Rail workers in Duluth went so far as to seize the railyards and declared that they would block all commerce coming in and out of the city until ARU members in Minnesota and Wisconsin were given a 20% pay raise to account for skyrocketing costs of consumer goods and agreed-upon wage controls during the war. The situation had rapidly spiraled out of control and was no longer simply a matter for Minneapolis; much of the Upper Midwest seemed ready to combust..."

    - The American Socialists

    "...politicians sympathetic to organized labor such as Wisconsin's LaFollette were hesitant to so openly embrace the strikes, especially as the incendiary Bill Haywood arrived in Minneapolis on June 20th to appear with the strikers and pronounced that the city was in a "revolutionary fervor" and suggested "the Lexington and Concord of the American laborer." The introduction of syndicalist organizing to the equation, and the considerably more radical direction that sympathy strikes were taking in Duluth and with dairy farmers hoarding their stock rather than sell it to Hormel across Minnesota, began to openly worry many leaders, and pressure fell instantly on Governor Charles August Lindbergh, a newly-elected Democrat who had been a long-serving Congressman and had been born in Sweden, making him the perfect profile for his state.

    Lindbergh was a progressive Democrat whose sympathies had always lay with the outer bounds of policy ideas proposed by the agrarian wing of his party (he had supported William Jennings Bryan at the 1912 convention, for instance) but despite having represented a district in central Minnesota's farm belt had maintained good relations with the urban faction of the party, especially with "St. Paul Gang" which was regarded as the more conservative wing and was centered in the businesslike, professional state capital. As Governor, Lindbergh had entered office with an ambitious program of reform he had hoped to maneuver through factionalized but collaborative Democratic majorities in the state legislature, and he was loathe to see this agenda derailed by the strike. It was also the case that his sympathies were very clearly with the strikers, even as he stayed put in St. Paul and refused to "cross the river" to address the issue, maintaining until late in June that it was a matter for General Mills, Hormel and the United States Railroad Administration to solve with their employees. As such, he declined to intervene against Van Lear when the latter did not call out the police to crush the strikes as they grew increasingly rowdy and militant, and would also not call up the Minnesota National Guard to keep order.

    Lindbergh's choice was probably wrong in the short term for him, though today he is well-regarded in Minnesotan politics for it. It was reflective of an increasing view amongst Democratic officeholders that held that the power of the state should not be brought about to bear to settle otherwise peaceful private disputes, and that the role of the government should be one of facilitator, arbitrator and negotiator, not enforcer. It was this thread that had brought about the Labor Board of Arbitration at the federal level in 1905 under President Hearst, and Minnesota's own boardmembers were hard at work trying to hammer out a solution, even as General Mills and Hormel dragged their feet as they were of the view that they would not negotiate until the strike ended (Minnesota law allowed arbitration to go on during a strike, not purely before or after one). Federal officeholders had different ideas, however, and the rhetoric emerging from Haywood and others in Minneapolis was starting to worry them. Accordingly, on June 28th, Attorney General Willis Van Devanter sought an injunction in the District Court of Minnesota against striking railroad workers in Minnesota and Wisconsin, and after securing it turned around on July 2nd and requested an injunction against the rest of the strikers..."

    - Second Wave: The Postwar Progressive Revolution of 1917-31
     
    Minneapolis General Strike (Part III)
  • "...laws from the Hearst years that had limited the ability of the federal government to seek injunctions against strikers, and Pierce Butler, right-wing as he may have been, advised as he stepped aside from consideration for the Supreme Court that provoking the strikers as such was a poor decision. Van Devanter went ahead anyways, egged on by Mellon.

    There is a great deal of scholarship, particularly common in the 1970s and early 1980s, that sought to absolve many of Root's mistakes by shifting blame for them on overzealous Cabinet officials such as Van Devanter or ideologically rigid minds like Mellon (even as an effort to rehabilitate Mellon was underway by then, too). The Minneapolis General Strike seems like a clear case in which one would normally assume the minority view of Root as a well-meaning old man misled by his underlings would win out, but enough evidence exists that President Root not only agreed to Van Devanter's injunction but approved wholeheartedly of it, as can be seen in his response to Stimson's qualified opposition to using the Minnesota National Guard to crush the strike. "There are too many men sitting idle," Root wrote testily as Stimson suggested letting things play out in federal court, "and too many idle men make for combustible times." With violence escalating rapidly across the occupied Confederacy in early July as the Red Summer kicked into full swing, Root was desperate to look strong, and Mellon's stance that "we cannot suffer twin insurgencies, one at home and one abroad" became the Cabinet line. Stimson federalized both the Minnesota and Wisconsin National Guards and placed them under Root's command, but it would not be the last time he was overruled on Mellon's urging, and by winter he would have resigned, leaving Root without his most loyal and capable Cabinet secretary.

    The Strike ended with tremendous violence on July 7th, 1917 - Bloody Saturday. The Minnesota National Guard's numbers were mysteriously swelled by hundreds of semi-discharged Army men attached as "Guard auxiliaries," but really there to make sure the Minnesotans followed federal orders. Hundreds of black strikebreakers recruited in Kentucky by General Mills over the last weeks of June were promised free passage to the United States "in return for service" and deployed against the striking workers as little more than a rowdy mob. The strikers had been ready for police violence and been relieved when it did not come, but were unprepared for experienced cavalry to be deployed against them and the seizure of the USRA railyards by the government early in the morning quickly ended their ability to paralyze things further.

    Of all the moments of Root's Presidency, Bloody Saturday stands high up as one of the bleakest and certainly the most controversial. Eight lives were lost that day - seven strikers, including two women - and two hundred injured. It was the first time the government had deployed force to put down a strike since Pullman in 1894, and though the number of deaths then were higher, the massive victories of the labor movement and the relative friendliness towards workers from Presidents such as Hearst had persuaded a great many that such days were over, especially when many strikers drew the reasonable conclusion that after their participation in the war, their government would be grateful towards them. Not so - for a generation of laborers and veterans across the Upper Midwest, it was made enormously clear that the Liberal Party still represented big business, and it required men with the national celebrity and more importantly lack of strong policy opinions like John Pershing to break through to them years later..."

    - The Root of the Problem: The Tumultuous Term of America's 29th President

    "...strike's ending on July 11th, just under seven weeks after starting. Haywood and Quinlan were arrested and prosecuted for incitement and disturbing the public peace; that many of the local union leaders in Minnesota were left alone, but the prominent IWW leaders were targeted specifically, was lost on few. While both were eventually released on appeal in 1920 after their convictions, the damage was done, and the IWW's decline continued as the new decade emerged.

    It can be said that most involved in the strike failed to emerge with their reputations intact, though the truth is more complicated. Lindbergh was caught between a rock and a hard place, neither endorsing nor condemning the strikes, and many working-class Norwegians felt that he was yet another Swede betraying them. But he was reelected by a wider margin in 1918 than he had been two years earlier, and many of he labor reforms he had championed were passed in his second term by Democratic supermajorities that made Minnesota one of the most left-wing states in the country from a policy standpoint. As was tradition in Minnesota, he did not seek a third two-year term, and died of a brain hemorrhage in 1924 as he was preparing to run for the Senate seat of the late Knute Nelson. Van Lear, for his part, was not reelected in 1918, defeated by a coalition of business interests, and to this day he remains Minneapolis' only Socialist Mayor, but many of his ideas lived on in his paper the Minnesota Daily Star.

    The strike's real damage was to the slowly-recovering Liberal Party in the Upper Midwest more generally. Starting in 1912 on the West Coast, Liberal parties that could not defeat majority-Democratic electorates on their own began partnering on fusion tickets with Socialists, first at the municipal level and then, such as in 1914, successfully electing Senators in Washington and Oregon who were well to the left of their Eastern colleagues even under the same party banner, all in the name of curbing "machine politics." Van Lear's election had relied on such an unwieldy coalition to an extent, but the General Strike ended all that. The behavior of the Root administration convinced Socialists more or less permanently that whatever issues they had with sleazy Democratic patronage from a good-government perspective, it was a whole lot better than the oligarchic battery that Root, Van Devanter and others had just subjected them to. Fusionism died a violent death on July 7th, 1917, [1] and was fully and wholly buried two years later with Robert La Follette's defection to the Democratic Party that made Wisconsin as staunchly Democratic as Nebraska or West Virginia. [2]

    While Christian Michelsen would be narrowly elected Governor in 1920 thanks to his stature in the Norwegian community and condemnation of the response to the strikes, he was a singular figure and would not seek reelection after a single term, more interested in cultivating the Norwegian nationalist party Fatherland League's American subsidiary; Liberals would not recover in Minnesota until the early 1940s with the emergence of Harry Stassen. For Socialists, though, it proved a time of ascendancy in the state, at least in Duluth and the Iron Range, which became along with Milwaukee one of their few outposts in the Midwest.

    So while the individual protagonists of the strike may have not seen much advancement, it reinvigorated American labor at a critical hour in the postwar depression and marked the beginning of the sharp, decade-long wilderness years for the Liberals that few in Root's orbit would have expected after their recovery from the post-1904 nadir under Hughes, Stimson and others. A sea change was looming on the American horizon as it became an open question of what, exactly, the "New Republic" of the postwar era represented, and who it represented. And much of that started with some brave men throwing down their tools on June 1st in Minneapolis, mere weeks after the peace accords were signed and ratified..." [3]

    - Second Wave: The Postwar Progressive Revolution of 1917-31

    [1] Congrats @Curtain Jerker for calling this one...
    [2] ...and to @DanMcCollum for correctly deducing this one
    [3] That's it for the Minneapolis General Strike's position in the Red Summer, and while there's plenty of wildcatting and strikes throughout the Root years, this is the "big one," so to speak, that really starts our transition into the 1920s "Second Progressive Era."
     
    Ireland Unfree
  • "...security situation that was rapidly unraveling, per the frantic reports from the Royal Irish Constabulary in particular to Dublin Castle and from there, to London.

    Thousands of Irishmen had emigrated to the United States, often for part-time work and remittances, in the half-decade before the Great American War broke out, and tens of thousands more - perhaps as many as a hundred thousand - had departed for American shores as volunteers for the front or to work in factories. Though many died, and many would remain after the rolling peace begun at Lima with Chile and concluding with Mount Vernon with the Confederate States, as early as October 1916, when it was clear the war had weeks to go rather than months or years, foreign soldiers were discharged in droves, and as the spring arrived firings and downsizings at American factories cranked up in earnest as war orders plummeted, spiking unemployment and falling on noncitizen workers especially hard.

    Accordingly, Ireland was by mid-1917 awash in tens of thousands of veterans of the GAW, men returning to Ireland for work or to their families after many hard years away, broken mentally and physically in a way that their countrymen could not understand and often radicalized in the United States by its republicanism and the potent "Fenian" organizations there that argued vociferously for Irish independence and Gaelic nationalism, oft-embodied by figures such as Irish-American polemicist and emerging politician Eamon de Valera. Senior IRB recruiters and organizers like Michael Collins had gained invaluable experience observing war in the trenches and the guerilla activities of Confederates in occupied territories, as well as the struggles of the American Army to combat them, and he brought this thinking home with him shortly after the St. Patrick's Day Uprisings along with thousands of experienced, armed and radical soldiers.

    May and June 1917 were thus two of the bloodiest months of the conflict, as hundreds of RIC constables, officers in particular, were targeted in ambushes and execution-style killings, and the sophistication of the IRB and other, more revolutionary splinter groups was unlike anything commanders had seen previously. Lord Midleton desperately asked for more reinforcements as activities in India were drawn down, and the UVF's activities began escalating again, culminating in a week of brutal violence in early July that finally forced the government's hand.

    On July 7th, 1917, a Catholic parish in South Belfast was firebombed by Ulstermen, with four people inside dying; it was later discovered that the next day, during Sunday mass, had been the true target, but the gang carrying out the attack was frightened out of making such a move at the last moment. Belfast erupted again in outrage, with the Twelfth mere days away and the Irish Army dramatically scaling up its patrols in Ulster to prevent further bloodshed, precisely the type of move that had triggered the Curragh Mutiny in the first place. On Tuesday, July 10th, General Henry Wilson was assassinated in London on the steps of his home - suggesting, finally, that the IRB could reach across the Irish Sea if it so wanted. When news of Wilson's death arrived in Ireland, there were small and spontaneous celebrations that were responded to with RIC crackdowns and shootouts between Collins's "fireteams" organized like American death squads that had been active in Kentucky and Tennessee. The tensions culminated with massive riots, bombings, and shootings on the Twelfth, as Irish Volunteers aggressively did their utmost to derail Orange parades.

    "Ireland Burns, Cecil Fiddles," Chamberlain roared in the Commons that following day, but the worst provocation that finally tipped the scales would happen the next day. The Lord Clarence and his wife, as they were driving through Dublin accompanied by their bodyguards, became stuck on Wicklow Street due to a tipped-over dairy carriage blocking their path to College Green to address Irish veterans returned from India. As they were trying to get unstuck, several masked men emerged and opened fire on their car, which thankfully was not uncovered. The Lord Clarence suffered a shattered collarbone as a bullet missed his throat by mere inches and a punctured lung, while the Lady Clarence [1] was wounded in her left shoulder. One of their four bodyguards was killed, but three of the assassins were gunned down in response and the other two subdued by constables and onlookers. It was an obvious ambush, and a well-planned one; the Lord Lieutenant's route through Dublin to Trinity College that day had not been public knowledge, and the decision to address the veterans had been a last-minute one made only the day before due to the violence of the previous week and tensions across the British Isles after Wilson's assassination.

    Lord Clarence would live, but only barely, and his survival was still unknown when news arrived in London to Buckingham Palace and King George found out his elder brother had been shot in Dublin. While at first, Special Branch suggested that the IRB had carried out the attack, it quickly became clear thanks to an anonymous leak within the RIC that ultra-loyalists unassociated with the UVF had plotted the attack, likely with help from within Dublin Castle. Wilson's death was proposed as a possible catalyst to move plans forward to kill the Duke and Duchess of Clarence, and the motive was postulated as being the view that the King's brother was overly sympathetic to Irish nationalism, that his renouncing the throne to marry a Catholic was an insult to Anglican England, and that he had insufficiently crushed the enemies of the Crown in his tenure of as Lord Lieutenant and that his death would pave the way for a "proper" administration at Dublin Castle.

    Such sentiments, naturally, misread the temperature in Whitehall dramatically, where support for Cecil's government had been in sharp decline for months if not weeks and the National-New Conservative coalition was more tenuous than ever. The "July Days" concluding with the attempted murder of a member of the Royal Family, three years after Ulster nationalists had tried to usurp constitutional order both at Curragh and with the Ulster Covenant, essentially persuaded King George once and for all that British liberalism and Ulsterism were not compatible, and for the first time, he showed his hand on his Hibernophilia on July 16th, when he called Cecil to him.

    Whether Cecil had planned to resign in that meeting or not was unclear, but it was obvious at that point that his government had failed to solve Ireland and had only smashed the Ghadar Mutiny in India by the skin of its teeth. George, usually hesitant to directly involve himself in politics, purportedly requested a proposal from Cecil on how exactly the Irish Question "was to be answered," and Cecil's response was clearly found lacking. Later that day, it was Chamberlain called to Buckingham Palace to ask if he could form a "peace government" with the express intent of solving the Irish matter. Chamberlain answered with a qualified affirmation, but requested that Cecil be given the opportunity to resign himself ahead of a confidence vote rather than be sacked by the King personally; this was done not out of any love for Cecil, whom Chamberlain privately loathed, but rather because Chamberlain, who lacked his father's Jupiterian confidence, was a stickler for parliamentary formalities [2] but also wanted to make sure that George Barnes and the SDLP was onboard - not a certainty.

    Chamberlain's gamble was that forming a minority government immediately and then moving to invite the IPP back to Parliament with concessions was the only path out, and that elections would need to be called more or less immediately to sustain his government. Barnes signaled his openness to external support for six months in return for concessions on matters of unemployment payments and social housing, to which Chamberlain readily agreed, and on July 20th O'Brien would wield the knife, voting against the government on a tangentially-related act around levies on dairy, which the Liberals and SDLP joined. Cecil's government was defeated on the so-called "milk tax," and Cecil traveled to Buckingham Palace later that day to resign, well aware that his defeat had been planned for a whole week for entirely unrelated reasons. Chamberlain would form an unstable minority government shortly thereafter, declaring to gathered reporters as he arrived at 10 Downing Street that his Cabinet's "exclusive mandate" would be to end the Irish conflict and "find a workable peace." He was the first son of a Prime Minister to take such office since William Pitt the Younger, and after a decade of anticipation, the Chamberlain family was back in charge, in the midst of a firestorm the People's Joe could never have imagined..."

    - Ireland Unfree

    [1] Helene of Orleans
    [2] Churchill observed of Austen Chamberlain IOTL that he lacked the ruthlessness to ever actually rise to the top
     
    An Unfinished Revolution: The Second Chinese Republic, 1912-1924
  • "...whatever very real, very genuine substantive complaints that could be made about the Second Republic and how it functioned, it is also true that in one sense, its Presidential system was considerably more democratic than the controlled elections imposed by the Kuomintang post-1924. The Second Republic of China had devised a semi-runoff system, where the two candidates with the most support in the National Assembly would then advance to a straight, up-or-down vote of the Chinese people on a general ballot. This allowed both for control of the proceedings by the establishment while also presenting a bonafide democratic choice to the electorate, narrow as the qualifications for suffrage may have been.

    It is also true that, had it been given a chance to survive, the Second Republic had a system of government that may indeed have served China well. The central regime was designed to be strong vis a vis its relationships with the provinces, but internally had a number of constitutional checks inspired by the American constitution, unlike the robust constitutional monarchy Japan or Korea had implemented drawing on Prussian or French ideas. President Li Yuanhong was a powerful figure at the center of it, in control of the armed forces, but his day-to-day power over the Assembly and Prime Minister Tang was very cabined. Considering the travails of China since 1898, a cautious conservative like Li at the heart of the system designed by Tang and Liang Qichao served to calm the country's fractiousness and present some semblance of stability.

    The elections of 1917 were, in many ways, a continuation of that, and it would have been hard for anybody observing the proceedings to have guessed that the Second Republic would struggle to outlive Li's two five-year terms, particularly as the famed "Yellow Caesar," Wang Zhanyuan, elected not to challenge the President and instead not only stayed in his power base of Hankow but endorsed Li and promised him his unqualified support and allegiance. Western observers were shocked and some dismayed; Wang had long been thought of as precisely the kind of popular strongman who could "bring the nationalists to heel," as a British diplomatic cable described it, as opposed to the more milquetoast Li, despite the latter having guided the country through the civil war.

    Wang's decision, however, portended something darker under the hood of Chinese government - the millennia-old tension in the Middle Kingdom between the central authority and the periphery had not gone away, and it was not healthy for Chinese democracy generally or the Second Republic's stability specifically that the survival of the Li regime had essentially boiled down to whether the "Yellow Caesar" wanted to challenge Nanking from Hankow or not. The Jinbudang had been offered a stay of execution on a costly internal civil war that could have involved actual soldiers purely on the goodwill of the country's most powerful warlord. Even as Li's faltering but strong patronage machine ramped up ahead of the June elections, this lesson did not go unlearned: the Second Republic's survival would boil down to whether local strongmen would allow it to do so, rather than anything the electorate or central government wanted.

    Sun Yat-sen was, by most definitions, precisely such a strongman from his base in Canton, and despite some interest by Song Chiao-jen in being the Kuomintang candidate for the Presidency, Sun overruled him in an internal party caucus at the end of May and Song stepped aside magnanimously, though it was yet another moment that persuaded the younger man of Sun's imperiousness and the budding cult of personality within the party around him. The National Assembly's two main parties thus had their clear candidates - the incumbent Li, and the insurgent populist Sun, and the country was thought to be split along its traditional north-south lines ahead of the campaign.

    The 1917 Chinese Presidential election was neither clean nor dirty; ballot boxes were neither stuffed nor stolen, but voter intimidation was rampant both through threats of physical violence (particularly in Kuomintang strongholds, by both sides) and through economic or social repercussions. Western observers were intrigued - here was the mess of young Chinese democracy on display, and a great many were hoping that whatever came to fruition there did not augur the Kuomintang exporting its revolutionary pan-Asianism further beyond Chinese borders. There were thus many sighs of reliefs in the Foreign Quarter of Shanghai and at various Western missions when Li carried the day by a narrow but workable five-point majority; China was closely divided, but his victory was clear.

    Li's triumph did little to quiet the pressures within the country, however. Sun was convinced that the Jinbudang had won on account of fraud and suspicious electioneering in rural northern districts, and protests rocked southern cities like Canton and Foochow, with hundreds dying in various riots over the back half of the summer. Many Kuomintang district commanders became further convinced that they needed some kind of edge, and the appeal of semi-warlordism and building stronger ties to local country bosses in rural China became key as the movement tried to branch out of its urban literati base to speak directly to the conservative, traditional Chinese agrarian tenants. There was also the fact that Li was a compromise figure from the beginning even as he had helped seize power, and even as the Second Republic had tried to consolidate itself under him, he had no obvious successor in 1922 unless Wang Zhanyuan was eager to enter national politics, and the various factions of the Jinbudang looked primed to tear into one another once his unifying personage was gone. 1917 had perpetuated the Second Republic - but the questions which ate at its foundations like a million red termites had not only not been answered, but were being asked louder than ever before..."

    - An Unfinished Revolution: The Second Chinese Republic, 1912-1924
     
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