Chapter 1081: Who is the Master of Algiers?
Chapter 1081: Who is the Master of Algiers?
As for the possibility of these Janissaries growing strong in the M'zab region and seeking revenge against Algiers in the future, it was virtually non-existent.
From now on, their lives would essentially be a constant struggle against the harsh Sahara Desert. Simply surviving would be a feat in itself; they would have no strength left to march north and cause trouble.
In fact, after several decades or a century, the population of over one hundred thousand struggling in M'zab would likely be assimilated by the prosperous French province of Algiers, becoming entirely dependent on France economically, politically, and culturally.
By then, it was highly probable they would voluntarily request to be incorporated into the French province.
In the warehouse of the Mitidja Governor's Palace, vast amounts of wealth sent by Shafik were piled high. The figure just tallied by the servants was 210,000 riyals, roughly equivalent to 4.4 million francs.
These assets had been confiscated from the homes of the Algiers Janissaries. Of course, more than half had been pocketed by the Algiers naval faction before reaching the palace.
In Oust's bedroom, Shafik knelt on the floor with a terrified expression, complaining loudly, "Respected Governor, those tribal commoners made off with a vast amount of wealth. That is the only reason I could present such a small tribute to you..."
He stole a glance at the Governor and tested the waters, "If you would allow me to put those commoners on trial, I guarantee I will recover every single gold coin they stole!"
"Oh, and I should remind you," Oust added, "you will need an army to deal with those commoners."
Shafik was instantly overjoyed. "Thank you for your suggestion! Then... do you think three thousand soldiers would be appropriate?"
Currently, there was only one French garrison in Algiers. If the naval faction could possess its own army, they would surely secure their position as the de facto administrators of Algiers!
Oust waved his hand dismissively. "Recruit as many soldiers as you can, but do not say this was my idea. I would hate for Paris to send an inspector to Mitidja."
"Yes, great Governor! This matter has absolutely nothing to do with you."
Meanwhile, Berbers across Algiers were holding celebrations.
The expulsion of the Janissaries, who had long acted as a superior caste, brought a sense of relief and joy they had never experienced before.
In every city and even within the large tribes, people were delivering speeches.
The content, naturally, revolved around the theories from the "Analysis of the Origins of Tunisia"—that all Berber-Arabs were descendants of Romans.
Not everyone believed this rhetoric, but their "Roman compatriots" had just helped them drive out the Janissaries who had bullied them for centuries. Furthermore, every person, including children, had been given a silver Akçe coin. Consequently, the people happily went along with the narrative.
The money, of course, came from the confiscated estates of the Janissary nobility. The bulk of these funds remained with the high Berber nobles and tribal leaders, making them exceptionally polite to the lecturers and officials sent from Tunisia by the French.
In a pale white villa across from the Mitidja Governor's Palace, Rahman was discussing the "Roman Revolution" with over a dozen of the most influential Berber tribal chiefs.
In truth, they had no interest in "revolution" or "rights and freedoms." However, they knew that by flying the banner of being "Roman descendants," they could transform themselves into the elite of Algiers and make a fortune in the process, just as they had during the liquidation of the Janissaries.
"I know many of the crimes committed by those pirates," one tribal chief declared loudly. "I will go to the Mitidja court tomorrow to file charges against them!"
The Algiers naval faction was indeed comprised of the former Barbary pirates, so his statement was technically accurate.
"Exactly!" another man chimed in immediately. "They used to buy wheat from our tribes at a price of one riyal for every four hundred kilograms, then turn around and sell it in Europe for five riyals!"
"Those fellows even plundered French merchant ships in the past—uh, I mean, the merchant ships of our Roman compatriots."
"They all deserve to be hanged!"
"This time, you must restrain your clansmen. All seized property must be handed over."
As the group discussed their plans excitedly, Rahman's attendant rushed in, accompanied by a man dressed as a merchant.
Rahman frowned and was about to scold them when the merchant spoke up anxiously, "Lord Rahman, Hadid has gathered over three thousand soldiers in Mostaganem and is currently heading toward Saïda and Tiaret!"
Rahman's heart tightened.
Hadid was the second-in-command of the naval escort fleet and the most capable combat officer in the naval faction. The naval marines originally had fewer than four hundred soldiers; where had he managed to raise such a large force?
Rahman hurriedly asked, "What do they intend to do?"
"Shafik has ordered the arrest of everyone who pocketed the confiscated Janissary property. Over a hundred people have already been thrown into prison in Mostaganem, and many have been killed. The navy in Oran and other places seems to be stirring as well, though the news hasn't fully arrived yet."
The people in the room were stunned.
Every one of them had a significant amount of Janissary money in their hands. Hadid was clearly coming for their tribes.
"We cannot just sit here and wait for death!" a tribal chief shouted.
"Right, everyone go back and gather the warriors of your tribes!"
A tribal chief in his sixties spoke in a dry, raspy voice, "The navy has guns, and they even have cannons."
The others were instantly struck dumb.
Their tribes had their own warriors, but their weapons were mostly machetes and bows. They were no match for Hadid's forces.
Furthermore, Hadid had set out from Mostaganem and could reach their tribes within days, while they were still in Mitidja. With no one to command the tribes, it would be difficult to mount any effective resistance.
Rahman was the first to snap back to reality. He stood up and said, "Do not fear. We have the support of our Roman compatriots!"
An hour later.
In the small villa where Gemile was staying, the tribal chiefs bowed respectfully with their hands over their chests.
Rahman stepped forward and pleaded, "Commander, please send your army to punish these audacious villains! They have already murdered many innocent people in Mostaganem and Oran."
Gemile first unleashed a tirade against Shafik, then produced a document, saying helplessly, "You see, I have been suspended from duty due to certain matters. I cannot mobilize the army to help you deal with Hadid's thugs for the time being."
"But do not worry," he added quickly. "I will submit a report to the General Staff immediately. Other officers should be dispatched to handle this matter."
He knew that only by letting the Berbers fall into a crisis would they fully realize the importance of their "Roman compatriots."
Rahman and the others hurried to find Governor Oust, only to be told that the Governor had left for Annaba three days ago, and no one knew when he would return.
In desperation, the Berber tribal chiefs could only send messengers racing back to their tribes, telling their people to hide in the mountains. However, if they did that, their tribes would surely be picked clean by Hadid's men.
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