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Chapter 217: Provinces and Colonies
🕑 Added 2025-02-10 23:29:58 +0000 UTCChapter 217: Provinces and Colonies
The Tunisian Janissaries fled, leaving a field of corpses behind. On the orders of the French officers, the rebel army immediately launched a counterattack.
Seeing this, Jamil drew his scimitar and charged onto the battlefield, leading his soldiers in pursuit of the fleeing Ottomans. The over ten thousand rebels surged forward chaotically, lacking any formation or discipline, but the Janissaries, who had completely lost the will to fight, were now solely focused on escaping. The battle quickly turned into a one-sided massacre.
Two hours later, nearly all the Tunisian Janissaries had been driven into a small area in the northern part of the city. Realizing that the situation was hopeless, Koja ordered his men to lay down their weapons and surrender.
The rebel soldiers, bloodlust in their eyes, showed no mercy to the Janissaries who were shouting for surrender. It wasn't until Jamil himself intervened that the slaughter finally stopped.
By this time, the once ten-thousand-strong Janissary force had been reduced to just about seven thousand men, with Koja and the other senior officers among those who had been hacked to death.
Leaving some soldiers to guard the prisoners, Jamil led his army to storm into the city of Tunis. The prosperous capital of Tunisia quickly fell under rebel control. The Janissaries who had been stationed in the city had already fled, while the local inhabitants rushed into the streets to cheer and celebrate the rebels' victory.
Soon, thousands of rebel soldiers surrounded the Kasbah Palace. Jamil, accompanied by his officers and tribal leaders, marched straight into the palace.
Haji, trembling with fear, was escorted by Prosper and other French agents to the palace gates. Before he could say anything, he was met with a roaring wave of shouts from the rebel soldiers:
"Execute him!"
"Kill this Ottoman dog!"
"Kill him! He's as bad as the Janissaries!"
"Off with his head!"
Haji turned pale with fear. He had never imagined that his time as Bey would be so short-lived, with his life now hanging by a thread.
Jamil exchanged silent, knowing glances with the tribal leaders by his side, all of whom nodded in agreement.
Jamil drew his scimitar, adjusted his headscarf, and strode toward Haji:
"You, Ottoman dog, must pay with your blood for the crimes you've committed!"
Terrified, Haji stumbled backward, but Jamil quickly caught up, raising his bloodstained blade.
Just as the blade was about to fall, a voice shouted from the back of the crowd:
"Stop!"
Jamil and the others turned to see the French Consul in Tunisia, Joan, approaching with Arlay the Elder, the scholar Hilada, several French officers, and a few others.
Jamil and the tribal leaders quickly bowed in respect, then listened as Joan spoke in fluent Arabic:
"Honorable General Jamil, I believe you are mistaken."
"Oh? What do you mean?" Jamil asked.
Joan gestured toward Haji:
"A Bey is a Bey; he is not a Janissary, nor is he an Ottoman."
The natives exchanged confused glances. After all, wasn't the first Bey, Hussein, a former Ottoman Janissary who overthrew the previous Janissary leader to seize power in Tunisia?
So how could he not be an Ottoman?
Following Prince Joseph's instructions, Joan explained:
"The Bey is the ruler of Tunisia. He belongs to Tunisia, not the Ottomans. In fact, it was the Janissaries who betrayed him by secretly colluding with the Ottomans to oppress the descendants of Rome in Tunisia!"
He gestured toward Haji again:
"Haji Bey's grandmother was from Genoa, and his mother was from Touggourt. Even if he has a trace of Ottoman blood, it is so diluted that it barely matters."
Haji, wiping the sweat from his brow, was relieved that his grandfather and father had been attracted to beauty and hadn't strictly followed the Janissary tradition. Otherwise, he would surely be dead by now.
Joan then turned to Haji and said loudly:
"Isn't that right, honorable Bey?"
Haji seized this last chance at life, nodding vigorously:
"Yes, yes! I am forever a Tunisian, a... oh, a proud descendant of Rome! I have nothing to do with those cursed Ottomans!"
A tribal leader furrowed his brow and objected:
"But the Bey is also the Pasha appointed by the Ottomans."
Joan immediately waved his hand:
"That was only because of the Ottomans' threats. And Haji Bey never accepted that title."
Haji continued nodding fervently:
"Yes, yes! I will never be an Ottoman Pasha!"
Jamil and the tribal leaders exchanged looks of doubt. Seeing this, Joan subtly signaled to Arlay the Elder.
Stepping forward, Arlay spoke in a melodious tone:
"Brothers, the Bey is the ruler who has been acknowledged and served by all the tribes. He is not an Ottoman and should not suffer your betrayal."
Ishak, who had been standing behind Jamil, stepped forward at the right moment and was the first to bow to Haji:
"I will always be loyal to you, great Bey."
Seeing the rebel leader take the lead, the tribal leaders quickly followed suit, expressing their loyalty to Haji one after another, followed by the officers.
Finally, all the thousands of native soldiers present, including Jamil, bowed to Haji. Breathing a long sigh of relief, Haji looked gratefully at Joan and the others who had just saved his life.
South of Bizerte
In a villa heavily guarded by Swiss Guards in red uniforms, Joseph yawned and moved his "knight" to capture a black "pawn" on the chessboard.
Since he had promised the queen mother to "stay on the ship," he couldn't go anywhere and had to pass the time playing chess in the "wooden ship" inside the villa.
Across from him, Berthier pushed his "rook" forward three squares. After a moment of hesitation, he finally voiced his doubts:
"Your Highness, why do you care so much about this Tunisian Bey? I mean, maybe letting the rebels take their anger out on him wouldn't be such a bad idea."
Joseph moved his "queen" to protect his "knight":
"After all, Haji cooperated with us, even though it was for revenge and to win back his beloved. From a moral standpoint, we shouldn't just abandon him. Besides, even though he doesn't hold much real power, he's still a symbol of Tunisia. Issuing decrees in his name from the Kasbah Palace will make them more effective. If he dies, who knows how long it will take for the locals to balance their interests and form a new government?"
He didn't say it out loud, but Haji was actually quite easy to manage due to his lack of ability. If a more cunning and resourceful Tunisian native took power, it might cause complications.
Berthier held a chess piece in his hand and nodded repeatedly:
"Your Highness's concerns are indeed necessary. I was too simplistic in my thinking."
Joseph smiled and said:
"Moreover, keeping a Bey in place can help prevent the rise of military dictatorship and make it easier for Tunisia to eventually merge with France."
Berthier was a bit surprised:
"Are you saying that Tunisia won't be treated as a French colony, but rather... as a province?"
"That's what I'm planning. That's why I've been promoting French identity here from the start."
"But Your Highness," Berthier hesitated, "won't that be too costly?"
In later times, people often thought of colonies as places of brutal oppression, where taxes were sky-high, and the population lived in misery. In reality, most colonies only faced certain trade restrictions, like being prohibited from buying or selling goods with certain countries, and the tax rates were not necessarily high. For example, the tax rates in pre-independence America were even lower than those in Britain itself.
The biggest difference between a colony and a non-colony lies in investment—no matter how low the tax rate in a colony, the money collected ultimately goes to the mother country. The colony itself doesn't receive any funding for development, and in times of crisis, there's no money for disaster relief, which inevitably breeds resentment among the locals. Also, if something goes wrong in a colony, the mother country can simply wash its hands of the matter without feeling any guilt.
Therefore, the investment needed to develop a province is actually far greater than that required for a colony.
Joseph looked at the chessboard, somewhat reluctantly using his "rook" to capture an opposing "knight" and "pawn," and nodded:
"You're right. This means we'll need to invest quite a bit of money in Tunisia, especially in the early stages." He then changed the subject, "But it will be worth it. Tunisia is rich in resources, has fertile land, and excellent ports. If we develop it, we'll quickly recoup our initial investment. In fact, this place could become a major economic pillar for France in the future!"
Joseph knew well the importance of North Africa to France in later times. Even though it wasn't developed much, North Africa still played a crucial role in making France a global power.
In the 20th century, the last respectable French president, Jacques Chirac, once said, "Without Africa, France will be a third-rate country."
Right now, if France wants to compete with Britain, simply exploiting resources from North Africa won't be enough—after all, it doesn't compare in size to Britain's colonies in America and India.
Since we can't compete in quantity, we have to compete in quality.
By developing Tunisia into a core region for France, with a level of productivity close to that of European territories, the contribution of this region to national strength would far surpass that of America or the Far East.
Joseph looked at Berthier and continued:
"Did you know? Compared to the colonies of Britain and Spain, North Africa has an unparalleled advantage—its proximity to us. Marseille and Bizerte are separated by only a relatively narrow stretch of the Mediterranean. Even from Corsica, a slow ship could reach Tunisia in just three days—that's less time than it takes to travel from Lyon to Paris.
"The British are destined to lose America because it takes over 40 days for an order from London to reach Philadelphia. Similarly, if something happens there, the British won't know about it for a month and a half.
"Just wait and see—India will eventually break away from Britain too because it's also very far away.
"But Tunisia is different. As long as we establish a strong foothold here, no one will be able to take it away from France."
He added silently in his mind: unless there's a rise in national consciousness and they seek independence from within. So, before the storm of national awakening spreads across Europe, it's crucial to cultivate a sense of shared identity between France and Tunisia. If done right, the bond will be unbreakable.
Of course, besides fostering a sense of "common origin," encouraging more French people to emigrate to Tunisia would be the most reliable approach.
Currently, Tunisia has a population of less than 1.8 million, including about a hundred thousand Europeans. With the right immigration policies, it wouldn't take long for Tunisia to truly become a land of shared heritage.
Berthier had always known that the Prince had remarkable military and strategic insight, as well as brilliant political acumen, but he hadn't realized that his understanding of international affairs was so profound. The phrase "Son of Destiny" popped into his mind once more.
Because, aside from that explanation, he couldn't think of any other reason why the young Prince would have so many forward-thinking ideas and strategies.
His thoughts were racing, but his hands didn't stop moving. He advanced his "queen" a few squares and quietly said:
"Your Highness, checkmate."
Joseph studied the board and smiled wryly:
"It seems I'm cornered. Your chess skills are impressive."
"You flatter me," Berthier said as he gathered the chess pieces. Casually, he added, "Speaking of chess, there's a Hungarian named Kempelen who invented a machine called 'The Turk.' It's a chess-playing machine. I once played against it and was defeated in just 14 moves."
That impressive? Joseph's first thought was of "AlphaGo," but he quickly dismissed the idea—this era hadn't even perfected steam engines, so how could artificial intelligence exist?
Then he remembered reading about this on a forum before. It turned out to be a hoax—someone was hiding inside the machine, using magnets to control the pieces.
He winked at the Chief of Staff:
"Lieutenant Colonel Berthier, I can tell you a trick that will help you easily defeat 'The Turk.'"
As they were talking, Perna knocked and entered. After saluting them, she nervously twisted the hem of her dress and said:
"Your Highness, Commander, I've heard that many soldiers in the regiment have contracted dysentery. Perhaps I could help."
In this era, people didn't accept female doctors at all. Perna could only serve by Prince Joseph's side due to his open-mindedness. Since arriving in Tunisia, she hadn't been able to contribute much, and due to her seasickness, the Prince had to take care of her throughout the journey. So, she really wanted to do something to prove herself.
Joseph nodded: "On behalf of the soldiers, I thank you, Dr. Perna. But you'll need to wear men's clothing."
"Yes! Thank you, Your Highness!"
...
Paris, Palais-Royal
The Duke of Orléans was enjoying the latest issue of Le Journal de Paris by the window, basking in the sunlight. The newspaper covered some events in Tunisia, and although the details were unclear, it seemed that the situation there had devolved into chaos, with widespread conflict.
It was clear that the inexperienced Prince had messed up!
He happily hummed a waltz and glanced up just in time to see his son passing by the window.
He noticed something unusual about Philippe and quickly rubbed his eyes, calling his son over for a closer look.
In the bright sunlight, Philippe's neck was covered with large red rashes, and his left eye was severely bloodshot.
The Duke of Orléans frowned and asked with concern:
"Philippe, are you ill?"
The Duke of Chartres smiled nonchalantly:
"Oh, it's nothing, just a touch of the romantic 'disease of love,' dear father."
The Duke of Orléans was struck by the revelation, freezing in place as if struck by lightning—what the nobility affectionately called "the disease of love" was, in fact, syphilis.
(End of Chapter)
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