Queen Mary flipped through the report submitted by Baron Joann on the situation in Tunisia, a document she had in fact already perused several times the day before, and frowned:
“Attacks, always attacks, who exactly is behind this?”
Baron Joann stood at the end of the conference table, cautiously saying:
“It’s still unclear, Your Majesty. However, the attacks seem to be related to the Tunisian Guard.”
Queen Mary asked some more specifics about Tunisia and then turned to the ministers present:
“What are your thoughts on this matter?”
The Duke of Orleans glanced at the empty seat of Foreign Minister Vilran—who had been sent to the Nordic regions by Brian to “tend to” the war between Sweden and Russia—and suddenly felt a hollow sense of loss. Less than a year ago, his power commanded nearly half of the seats in Cabinet meetings, but now, he was left to fight alone.
He cleared his throat and nodded to the Queen:
“Your Majesty, actually, such situations often occur in the colonies of various countries. For instance, Congo, South Africa, Peru—there are riots every now and then. The Americans even managed to completely expel the British from the thirteen states.
“Yes, America. You see, the British fought there for seven or eight years, lost over thirty thousand soldiers, spent billions of livres, and in the end, still faced defeat.
“Therefore, I believe we should make every effort to avoid a situation in Tunisia similar to what the British faced.”
He had secretly met with the British ambassador to France, Hartley, a week ago. The latter wanted him to help influence French policy so as to withdraw from Tunisia.
The reward for him was a great deal of political gain, including having Vilran preside over the signing of an agreement that seemed favorable to France, to help him gain political prestige, among other things. Now, Vilran was the Duke of Orleans’s only ally in the Cabinet, and keeping him was of great significance; therefore, the Duke of Orleans immediately agreed.
“I also think we should not invest too much effort in Tunisia,” Mono said, lifting his round arm, “It is full of heathens, and our financial situation does not allow us to waste money in North Africa.”
Typically, it was Mono, the Minister of the Interior, who was in charge of immigration-related matters, but this time, Brian, following Joseph’s instructions, had handed over Tunisian immigration affairs to Mirabeau.
Mono watched as a “fatty cut” involving tens of millions of livres slipped from his hands, and discontented, he began to work towards sabotaging the matter.
Brian, upon hearing the words “financial situation,” felt an instant agreement in his heart. However, since the Crown Prince greatly pushed for North Africa, he suppressed himself from making any statement.
Joseph frowned upon hearing this. Tunisia was the pivot of his North African strategy, and just when some progress was emerging, how could he give up so easily?
Not to mention he was still counting on Tunisia’s fertile lands to alleviate the famine next year, and he could not just watch the over one million livres invested in immigration funds go to waste.
He was about to say something when the Minister of War stood up, with a raised fist declaring loudly:
“If a handful of rioters scare us into giving up a freshly acquired colony, I bet tomorrow France will become the laughingstock of all Europe! In fact, just sending out an adequate legion would let those North Africans know our might!”
The military naturally wanted to send a large force to Tunisia. This would mean the Royal Family would need the military, and also, a large amount of military funding would pass through his hands—it was an excellent opportunity to make a fortune.
The Navy Minister and Mirabeau immediately expressed their agreement.
Both were eyeing the military budget, and the other hoped to use Tunisian markets and resources to support industrial development. Read exclusive content at empire
For a while, both sides who supported and opposed broke into intense debate.
Queen Mary blinked her blue eyes, looking back and forth between the ministers on both sides, quickly realizing that it seemed there were more who opposed withdrawing from Tunisia.
She then raised her hand to signal for silence and with an authoritative voice said, “I have made a decision.”
She gestured to the Minister of War: “Marquis de Saint Priest, please submit a reinforcement plan for Tunisia to me as soon as possible.”
“By your command, Your Majesty.”
Exiting the conference hall, Joseph still had furrowed brows.
Although the Cabinet had decided not to give up on Tunisia, obviously, it was moving in the direction of a public security war.
This was completely different from his initial plan—extensive public security operations would not only consume huge amounts of funding, but they might not be able to completely suppress the Tunisians in a year or two, and might even sow seeds of hatred towards France in the hearts of Tunisian people.
This would become endless trouble for the future.
Joseph shook his head, still without an effective solution, so he returned to his study, spread out the copious amounts of North African materials Baron Joann brought back on the desk, and started to carefully study everything from the political and military structure to customs, habits, and religious and cultural matters, page by page.
After an unknown amount of time, Eman came in for the tenth time, treading lightly, to trim the wicks of the candles for him.
Joseph opened a report on the population composition of Tunisia and saw a description of its Guard, “…As the highest ranking class in Tunisia, the Guard always intermarries within, forming a closed community…”
Suddenly he thought of something, hastily pulling out materials concerning Tunisian religious forces, and his eyes lit up—it was this!
To be on the safe side, he gestured to Eman: “Could you please find Baron Joann for me?”
“Ah? Your Highness, it’s already 1 a.m. …”