Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
Since becoming the capital of the Hapsburg empire in the 13th century, Vienna had grown into not only the political, economic, and cultural center of the European continent but also one of the world’s most prosperous cities.
The current moment was no exception. Austria had established once again its status as a great power, after the war against France, and it was known, along with Russia, as Europe’s policemen.
After the foundation of the Holy Alliance in 1815, Austria became the representative of the forces of restoration, a leader against capitalism, and a major military force in Europe.
However, behind the splendor, Austria was experiencing rapid decline. Its hegemony in Europe ended when the revolution broke out in 1848.
As Franz walked heavy-hearted down a busy street, a line of Du Fu’s verse came to mind: “The portals of the rich reek of flesh and wine while frozen bodies lie by the roadside.”
From time to time, ragged people hurried by, shivering with cold in the bustling streets of Vienna.
Occasionally he saw police officers hurrying to drive beggars away or even taking them away by force.
He couldn’t imagine what kind of sight it would be if he went to the slums if this was the view in the most bustling downtown street.
“The Little Match Girl” was not a fairytale any more there, for, along the way, Franz saw too many children selling cigarettes, newspapers, matches…
Franz didn’t bother to blame the evils of capitalism. For most of the children in those days, a job like that to feed themselves was a wild wish.
Over the course of a month, Franz traveled through all the main districts of Vienna and saw what the empire, nearing its end, was really like.
Perhaps what the people would really need in the Vienna Revolution, one year later, would be bread to feed themselves and clothing to keep them warm, rather than something as abstract as constitutionalism or freedom.
When the public conversation became dominated by the bourgeoisie and nobles, the so-called revolution became their tool in the power struggle. Meanwhile, ordinary people became victims of it.
Later, Franz remembered an article about Polish nationalists trying to persuade farmers in a village to rise up against the Austrians. They claimed that they would live happily ever after, as long as Austrians were expelled.
But the peasants answered:
No, dear sir, things would not develop as you say they would. You would just drive the most benevolent ruler, the Hapsburg Emperor, away from this land and bring the country to its end.
My grandfather once told me that when the Polish Federation was still in existence, the lords were allowed to beat the peasants any way they liked, and the peasants had nowhere to go for help.
After you drive the emperor out of this land, every one of you will want to get a taste of power and turn us into slaves again!
…
Franz knew from history that, when the Vienna uprising failed, the bourgeoisie who claimed to be patriots would suffer massive damage, while the standard of living of the subjects would actually increase significantly.
It was hard not to say that this kind of situation created a sense of irony: the ones who kept on shouting all day to knock down the exploitative class were actually a group of capitalists, while the emperor, who was the object of the revolution launched by those capitalists, took up what was actually revolutionary work.
When these thoughts came into his mind, Franz realized he already knew what to do next. Uniting the majority to fight against a handful was always the right move in politics.
In Franz’s view, any constitutional reform before the country achieved its universal compulsory education was just nonsense, and any reform beyond the people’s capacity to accept could only cause harm.
“Raul, prepare for a visit to the Prime Minister’s house!” Franz calmly said.
An incarnation who wouldn’t stir things up, a man who wasn’t actually a reincarnation — this had been Franz’s motto. Now, he changed his mind: it was time to go to stir things up.
An hour later, Franz arrived at the Prime Minister’s House. He didn’t have an appointment, however, so Prime Minister Metternich was not at home.
This was reasonable to Franz: a Prime Minister was always busy, especially a powerful one like Metternich.
This was another difference between Europe and the East: even a powerful authority like Metternich would find that his power is limited, and to be dominant in the politics of Austria, he had to rely on the support of the emperor.
“Archduke, please have a seat. We have sent someone to inform the Prime Minister,” said the smooth, slick housekeeper.
His implication was quite obvious: He had sent someone to inform the Prime Minister, but as for when the Prime Minister would come back, well, that would be unknown and out of his control, and since he had done his job properly, if there were any problems between the influential people there, they certainly would not involve him.
Franz smiled without saying a word, as it wasn’t his habit to show his temper in front of irrelevant people. The relationship between the original Franz and Prime Minister Metternich was close, and he had maintained that relationship after his reincarnation.
In Franz’s opinion, it was a classic tradition to rip off powerful ministers; the Austrian Empire would need someone to take the blame for its reform, and the best choice would be Prime Minister Metternich, who was already notorious.
Too much debt would be no burden. Presumably, Metternich didn’t mind taking more blame than he already did for Austria.
In the evening, Metternich returned hurriedly. Franz was not annoyed about that: he had eaten and drunk whatever he wanted, for no one dared disrespect his position.
“Sorry to keep you waiting! Little Franz, what can I do for you today?” Metternich said kindly.
As always, Franz was a junior in his eyes, for Metternich was an old minister. He had been Prime Minister since the era of Franz’s grandfather.
“Dear Metternich, when you speak to me, could you leave out “Little”? I am 16 years old already!”
Franz had to express his dissatisfaction before Metternich’s question could be answered.
“Well, dear Archduke Franz, how can I help you today?” Metternich asked with a smile.
“Mr. Metternich, I came here today for reform!” Franz said, getting straight to the point.
“Reform? Franz, since when did you start to concern yourself with this? Or did someone say something to you?” Metternich asked with surprise.
“No one said anything, but I have been exploring Vienna for more than a month. I have some questions in my mind, and I want to ask your advice.” Franz replied.
“Oh, I am all ears.” Metternich pretended his interest.
“Mr. Metternich, the public voice for constitutional reform is very loud at present, but the workers I met don’t care about that. They are busy doing everything they can just to get three square meals a day. Is money more important than dignity?” Franz asked, already knowing the answer.
“No, Franz! They are trying to survive. Missing even a day of work could mean starvation for them. Nothing else matters in the face of survival!” asserted Metternich, resolute and decisive.
“Oh. If that’s the case, then why don’t we make our reforms weighted towards them? At least allow them to have enough bread before anything else!” Franz said innocently.
“Franz, it is more complicated than that: it’s not possible for capitalists to improve the treatment of workers!” Metternich shook his head and said.
“Yes, and isn’t that terrible!” Franz said, with an affected sigh.