Chapter 1133: Inciting War
Carlo Botta soon appeared at the door.
When he learned that the man standing before him was the politically influential Count Costantini, he hurriedly and politely invited him into the villa.
Costantini took a seat on the sofa and asked curiously, "Mr. Botta, it seems someone has offended you?"
At the mention of it, Botta’s face flushed deep red again. He turned and retrieved a book from his study, tossing it down in front of the count. "Look at this," he hissed through gritted teeth. "Look at what these arrogant, ignorant Milanese are saying!"
"They actually claim to be the artistic center of the entire Apennine Peninsula, asserting that true art simply doesn't exist anywhere else."
"Oh, and they say the Tuscan dialect is only spoken by country bumpkins, while the Lombard tongue is the only truly elegant language. Hmph! They’ve just plagiarized a few French words; it’s a linguistic mongrel!"
Costantini picked up the book in surprise. The cover featured gold-embossed letters: The Great Milan.
He flipped it open. From the table of contents alone, it was clear that this was a book detailing the history of the Duchy of Milan.
However, the starting date listed in the contents was 700 AD!
"Exactly!" Botta exclaimed, as if he had finally found a kindred spirit. "In the 8th century, Milan was nothing more than a few impoverished villages. Yet they dare to call that the prototype of the Duchy of Milan!"
"They even say that at that time, the rest of the Apennines were inhabited only by barbarians."
"It’s laughable! Everyone knows that Florence has existed since the days of the Roman Empire and has been a metropolis ever since!"
"And look, this book even claims that Florentines are cowards who have always yielded to Southern Italian powers. It’s utter nonsense..."
Costantini frowned again and turned to the spine of The Great Milan. It was written by Rossi Pastori.
He was a famous historian.
"How could Mr. Pastori hold such views?"
"Because of arrogance and stupidity!" Botta was clearly incensed by the book. "I’ve already decided. I’m going to write an article refuting this fellow in the shortest time possible, and I’ll make him come here personally to admit he’s wrong!"
Costantini hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "But I heard you were recently working on your History of Italy."
"I’ll finish it after I’ve taught these ignorant Milanese a lesson," Botta said, shaking his head. "Right now, I’m in no mood for serious work."
Costantini had no choice but to join him in cursing the Milanese for a while. After arranging to return in two months, he took his leave, feeling helpless.
What he didn't know was that as soon as Botta finished his rebuttal to Pastori, someone immediately helped print tens of thousands of copies. They were sold all over Milan at extremely low prices.
And before Pastori could even react, a large group of Milanese writers and thinkers published articles "clapping back" at Botta.
The most brilliant of these counterattacks were also printed in large quantities and sold back to Florence at low prices.
Two months later, the war of words between Milan and Florence had reached a fever pitch. If the governments hadn't been suppressing it, the two sides might have already organized mobs to brawl in the streets.
Indeed, that book, The Great Milan, was exactly what Joseph had instructed Baron Schérer to write.
As someone who had lived through the 21st-century internet era, Joseph knew very well that getting different groups of people to agree was difficult, but inciting conflict was the simplest thing in the world.
Back then, whenever a regional agitator started something, everyone in a thread would forget what they were originally talking about and start attacking each other's hometowns.
'The Young Italy organization wants to use the concept of an Italian nation to weld these countries together? Let’s see if they can survive a bout of regional hostility,' Joseph thought.
The pattern was simple: manufacture a topic, praise the people of one place to the heavens, and then disparage another place. Those who were praised would mostly support you fervently, while those who were insulted would retaliate in anger.
Soon after, someone from the insulted side would start a new topic, praising another region and attacking the one that had insulted them first.
Then the praised region would join the fray.
It wouldn't take long for the entirety of Northern Italy to be at each other's throats. At that point, you want the "heroic Milanese" and the "cowards" to form a single country?
Don't be ridiculous.
Even if the topic of regionalism didn't heat up, Joseph had a whole host of other topics waiting in the wings: "linguistic disputes," "monarchy versus republic," and so on.
Then came the establishment of each state's own identity.
'My Milan is a continuation of the Duchy of Milan; it has nothing to do with your Duchy of Florence or Duchy of Parma.'
'What "we are all Italians"?'
'How could the great Milanese be the same kind as those people?'
In the future, when the Young Italy organization tried to give speeches about "Italian Unification" in various countries, they would most likely be beaten up by their audience.
In fact, it wouldn't be long before people within their own organization started participating in the war of words.
After all, what normal person could resist such a satisfying flame war?
***
The Republic of Lucca.
In the Ducal Palace, the meeting place of the Council of Elders, the Stadtholder of Lucca, Alberto Ariosto, looked at Talleyrand in shock. It took a long time before he stuttered, "You... you mean a declaration of war?"
"But my country only has about 500 soldiers. Otherwise, we wouldn't..."
He had wanted to say, "otherwise we wouldn't have been unable to even defeat the rioters, leading to the burning of the French merchant caravan's goods," but he felt it was too humiliating. So he forced himself to change it to: "...otherwise we would struggle to deal even with the army of a single province of Naples."
Yes, Talleyrand had just asked him to declare war on Naples on the grounds of "funding rioters to create trouble and nearly provoking a war between Lucca and France."
The Security Bureau had already arrested more than ten mid-to-high-level members of the Young Italy organization—ensuring there was ironclad evidence. Even if there wasn't any for the moment, La Valette would have someone "create" it for them. Consequently, the Lucca High Court had quickly completed the trials. Most of these people were thrown into prison for "violent assault," "robbery," "embezzlement," and similar charges.
Indeed, they would absolutely not use charges like "treason" or "inciting riot," which carried an obvious scent of political persecution.
Afterward, the Security Bureau interrogated them at a leisurely pace. Two of the management-level individuals had traveled to Naples to coordinate the transport of weapons.
La Valette immediately sent men disguised as Lucca police to secretly infiltrate Castel Volturno. They quickly found critical evidence, such as the source of the weapons and the intermediaries involved.
With these items in hand, Lucca had sufficient grounds to declare war on Naples.
Talleyrand smiled thinly. "You have likely forgotten that Lucca is a member of the Mediterranean Security Organization."
Ariosto swallowed hard. "But the terms of the Security Organization state that only when a member state is invaded can it request other member states to jointly deploy troops."
Talleyrand nodded immediately. "You are quite right. Neapolitan weapons have appeared in Lucca in large quantities. This is, in every sense, an act of invasion!"
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