Chapter 765: Adaptability |
Seeing that the “Guano War” had ended, the Colombian government, which had suffered an unexpected disaster, no longer wanted to continue fighting.
At sea, the British were the undisputed rulers, but once on land, they instantly dropped to a much lower level. Under the command of British instructors, the Colombian government forces were repeatedly defeated.
Including the troops that had been “mistakenly” wiped out, the Colombian government had already suffered over 43,000 casualties by this stage of the war.
It was obvious to everyone that the Panamanian independence movement was merely a pawn pushed to the forefront. Without settling things with the real power behind the scenes, Austria, there was simply no way to achieve victory.
Without a doubt, that was impossible to accomplish. Colombia’s strength was limited, and continuing to fight would do nothing but increase casualties without yielding any benefits.
On April 7, 1883, the Colombian government issued a call for peace and invited the four major powers, Britain, France, Spain, and Austria, to mediate the so-called “civil war.”
Austria was included as a mediator because that was how the game was played.
Officially, Austria had not participated in the war. However, as the most powerful nation along the Caribbean coast, it was qualified to act as a mediator.
If the United States had not split apart, it would have been a mediator as well. In its divided state, however, the Americans were no longer part of the great powers’ club.
Colombia’s request for mediation arrived, sparking a new debate within the Austrian government on whether to agree to a ceasefire.
Colonial Minister Stephen said, “The situation in Colombia is extremely favorable for us. The Panamanian independence forces have a decisive advantage on the battlefield.
The rebels have occupied all of Colombia’s coastal cities, control a quarter of the country’s territory, half of its population, and nearly 60% of its economy. They are less than 100 kilometers from the capital, Bogotá. Conquering Colombia is only a matter of time. Giving up now would be a waste.”
Foreign Minister Wessenberg disagreed. “It’s not that simple. If we actually occupy the Republic of Colombia, we will become the enemy of all South America.
That region is not strategically important to us, and there is no need to get deeply entangled. Now that we have secured Panama, knowing when to stop is the best choice.”
Colonial Minister Stephen dismissed the concern. “What is there to be afraid of? The South American countries are weak, and they are riddled with internal conflicts. There is no way they would unite over Colombia’s troubles.
At most, we might face temporary isolation. But South American nations will not genuinely stand up for Colombia. A little division and diplomatic maneuvering will be enough to handle them.”
This was true. A united South America might have been a cause for concern in Austria, but a fragmented South America was another matter entirely. As long as Austria did not trouble them, they would already have God to thank.
Wessenberg shook his head. “Without the British, we could indeed proceed this way.
Unfortunately, South America is Britain’s economic colony, and the British government will not sit idly by while we expand in the region.
If South American countries have a leader to rally behind, they will not be as easy to deal with as a scattered and divided continent.
Even if we can hold Colombia militarily, we will suffer heavy losses politically and economically.
Greed is a fundamental sin. We are at a critical stage in our global strategy, and any reckless move could lead to disastrous consequences.”
Annexing Colombia was never part of Franz’s plan.
This was evident from the banner under which the campaign was launched. The so-called “Panama Independence Organization” was clearly aimed only at the Panama region.
However, plans could never keep up with change. It was unclear whether the nobles leading the charge were too capable or if the Colombian government was simply too incompetent, but the war had escalated far beyond expectations.
Franz interrupted, “Let’s negotiate first. If the Colombian government is willing to make concessions, then we should end the war as soon as possible.
Right now, the Near East is our priority. As long as we secure the Panama region, gaining or losing a bit more in other areas is of little consequence.”
This was a decision driven by interests. The era of colonial expansion had ended, and Austria’s strategic focus had returned to Europe.
In Franz’s view, aside from the Panama region, Colombia was nothing more than a burden.
There was no point in talking about the future. Just like individuals, nations must also live in the present.
Pursuing the future is only possible if there is a future to pursue. If one collapses halfway, then everything is lost.
A good reference would be Emperor Yang of Sui. His accomplishments were significant in his time, and his policies were meant to benefit future generations, yet he ended up with a destroyed nation, a ruined dynasty, and the infamous title of “tyrant” in the annals of history.
The lessons of the past must not be ignored. Reckless ambition could lead to the downfall of a nation.
…
As negotiations for the Colombian civil war began, the international situation also started to stabilize.
The British, seeking to ease tensions with other countries, temporarily stopped stirring up trouble. The French, despite their ambitions, were powerless, as Napoleon IV was still preoccupied with domestic rebellions. Austria and Russia were both busy fighting the Ottomans and had no time for other conflicts.
If not for the ongoing war in the Near East, one could almost declare world peace.
…
The ancient city of Baghdad was once again engulfed in the flames of war.
The sound of artillery filled the air as countless shells rained down on the city with relentless precision.
At the Coalition Middle Eastern Theater Command, General Morkes was troubled over how to capture Baghdad with the least possible cost.
There was no other choice. Ever since rejecting the enemy’s conditional surrender, the resistance had grown fiercer.
Breaking through the city’s defenses was not difficult. Austrian artillery could easily accomplish that task. The real problem lay in the ensuing street battles, where any misstep could lead to heavy losses.
The most effective traditional siege strategy was to cut off the city’s water and food supply.
Baghdad was just over 30 kilometers from the Euphrates River. With a smaller population than in later times, the city could largely rely on underground water sources to sustain itself.
A prolonged siege would have been an ideal approach, but the government back home, wary of unforeseen complications, had already ordered a swift end to the war.
A young officer eagerly suggested, “Commander, why don’t we poison the city’s water supply?”
“Poisoning” clearly did not refer to using conventional toxins. At this time, chemical technology was still too underdeveloped to mass-produce highly lethal poisons.
The “poisoning” tactic used in siege warfare was, in reality, the deliberate spread of disease. This type of biological warfare was easy to execute, as the corpses of the dead served as the best carriers.
However, the consequences were severe, harming both the enemy and their own troops. Due to the ongoing war, the Middle Eastern theater had already experienced two small-scale outbreaks of plague.
In fact, the Ottoman forces had managed to hold out this long partly because of these outbreaks.
After a brief moment of contemplation, General Morkes shook his head. “No, the consequences are too great. If it spirals out of control, the results would be unimaginable.”
The young officer argued, “No, the risks are within our control. According to the government’s Fallow Land Act, given the situation in Baghdad, enforcing a twenty-year fallow period would not be excessive.
Even if the situation escalates, after the war, we can just—”
Before he could finish speaking, General Molkes cut him off sharply, “Samons, you are losing your sense of judgment.
Remember, a soldier must have limits. Unless there is absolutely no other option, we must never resort to such extreme measures.
Our personal reputations are of no importance, but Austria is a civilized nation. We cannot gamble with our country’s honor.”
After a brief pause, as if struck by a realization, General Morkes ordered, “Command the troops to lift the siege and have the airships drop leaflets.
Inform the defenders that I pledge on my family’s honor to let them depart freely, permitted to carry their weapons and personal belongings, but they have only three days.
Those who leave now may go wherever they wish, and we will not hinder them.”
Samons’ earlier words had indirectly reminded Molkes that this was Baghdad, and most of the city’s defenders were Iraqis—a people long oppressed within the Ottoman Empire.
At the brink of annihilation, these men would not choose to die for a regime that had subjugated them.
The defenders’ earlier attempt to negotiate had already hinted at this. Yet, bound by the Coalition Command’s strict orders, General Morkes had initially dismissed the opportunity.
No negotiations did not mean no alternatives. A small tactical adaptability on the battlefield could still be exploited.