Episode 18: The Russian Civil War - The Faster You Run, the Further You Fall
"What a weakling," Leon Trotsky, People's Commissar for Military Affairs, muttered as he emerged from the Kremlin.
Over the past few days, he had been locked in a struggle with Siyeong Lee and the results of his creations. He had restored Russia's reputation and his own standing with the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk, and he was drafting plans for military operations to crush the remaining rebel forces on the Southern Russian Front.
But Siyeong Lee's behavior during the final moments in Yekaterinodar, and his subsequent actions after returning to Petrograd, were utterly unbecoming of a revolutionary. And Trotsky had no intention of keeping someone who wasn't a true revolutionary by his side.
After months of observation, Trotsky had concluded that Siyeong Lee was "competent, but weak."
He had hoped his assessment was wrong and sent Siyeong to live with the Romanovs under the pretext of a vacation.
But his judgment proved all too accurate.
Siyeong proved weak-willed, became obsessed with the Romanovs' release, and crumbled under the trials he faced.
"I had high hopes. So he was only a vessel of that caliber after all, Comrade Siyeong."
Trotsky was a lone wolf.
But he had earned that title by choice.
He had no desire to befriend comrades he deemed inferior.
Of course, Siyeong Lee was competent.
But to become a revolutionary, one needed more than mere competence. Trotsky believed that quality to be boldness.
And Siyeong Lee had lost that audacity.
Comrade Lenin once said that a revolution cannot be made with white gloves, but the present Siyeong Lee intensely loathed the idea of getting blood on his hands.
With this mindset, he might become a good administrator, but he could never be a great revolutionary.
He turned his head toward the Kremlin, which still stood. The light was still on in his office window.
He straightened his posture and began walking.
"To regain my trust, you must pay the appropriate price."
In April, a cold wind began to blow again over Moscow.
In conclusion, I decided to do nothing.
But this was because I had a sliver of hope.
It wasn't Trotsky, Lenin, or even Stalin.
It was the future world situation.
The butterfly effect of the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk being signed two months earlier than in actual history had already spread its influence beyond Europe, reaching the entire world.
February 1, 1918. Germany launched the Winter Offensive, also known as the Ludendorff Offensive. This offensive began a month earlier than in actual history.
The Bolshevik Party organ, *Pravda*, published daily updates on the offensive on the Western Front.
The newspaper articles were a mix of propaganda and actual frontline news, but after piecing together dozens of articles, I soon reached a single conclusion.
"These guys... what are they doing?"
Germany was fighting far better than it had in real history.
Amiens, which was listed as the objective of the German offensive, had fallen to the German Army just a week after the offensive began. I thought they never managed to capture it in actual history.
After capturing Amiens, the German Army advanced north and clashed with the British Expeditionary Force. The isolated British Army, cut off by the fall of Amiens, suffered defeat in the encounter and withdrew to Britain through Dunkirk.
However, the end of the German offensive wasn't far off.
Having advanced to the outskirts of Paris, the German Army soon halted their offensive to replenish supplies. The French Army, now without their allies, repositioned their forces along the newly established front lines.
By April 1918, the German Army, having created a favorable situation for themselves, had already offered peace negotiations to the Allied Powers.
"But France would never accept this."
The United States had been supplying military materials to the French and British armies since 1917. Moreover, over a million-strong American Expeditionary Force was planning to land in France.
France would fight as long as Paris remained unconquered, and even if Paris fell, they would continue to resist.
That was the France of World War I.
And the deeper the German Army penetrated into French territory, the greater the advantage for us.
Germany would delay surrender for that much longer, and the Communists within Germany would have that much more time to prepare their revolution.
"And I will succeed in bringing revolution to Germany."
At that time, almost all the high-ranking politicians in Russia, including Lenin and Trotsky, shared a single goal.
Revolutionizing Germany. That alone could guarantee the Soviet Union's survival.
I no longer want to be embroiled in battles, nor do I wish to kill anyone with my own hands.
And I certainly don't want to accept the consequences that come with it.
But what if I personally overturned the results of the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk?
What if I personally drove the German Imperial Family from power?
And what if I succeeded in achieving the Soviet politician's greatest aspiration: a German Revolution?
The situation would be reversed. My status would rise to that of Lenin and Trotsky, or perhaps even higher.
Even if I failed—though that was a troubling thought—at least I could boast of having gone to Germany and attempted to lead a revolution.
The calculations were complete. Now, I simply wait for Germany to collapse from within.
"Um... Siyeong... Brother..."
"Oh, Maria. Have you thought about the 'condition' I mentioned?"
Yesterday, I had presented a condition to the Romanovs in exchange for sparing their lives. Maria nodded, and I asked her with a satisfied expression:
"So, what have you decided?"
"...I'll... convert... if that will save our parents..."
Become a revolutionary fighter, a proud revolutionary fighter!
That was the condition I had set.
Convert. If you want to survive.
In truth, this was quite a lenient condition. In those days, people would often be executed regardless of their tearful declarations of conversion.
Of course, the Romanovs' situation was a little different.
Until early last year, the very people who were ruling this country with an iron fist were now being called "Reds." From the Soviet government's perspective, there was no better propaganda material than that.
Moreover, this somewhat mitigated the criticism I faced for sparing the Romanovs. If anyone asked why I saved them, I could simply say it was to turn them into Communists. Who would dare question that? Unless they were a madman like Trotsky.
Speaking of that madman, he seemed particularly displeased with my decision to spare the Romanovs, nitpicking at me over every little thing.
"Hey, Comrade Siyoung, have you finished everything I told you to do earlier?"
"No, I still need some more time..."
"Then take care of these as well. The comrades in Helsinki are anxiously awaiting your completion of the task. Now get back to work!"
"Damn... son of a bitch..."
At that time, Soviet Russia was embroiled in two wars. One was, of course, the Russian Civil War, and the other was the Finnish Civil War.
Finland had gained independence under the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk. However, the treaty said nothing about preventing them from turning red.
In January 1918, street battles in several cities escalated into a full-blown civil war across Finland. Armed with weapons abandoned by the Russian Imperial Army and the German Army, the factions began fighting each other while both Germany and Russia were preoccupied with internal issues.
The commander of the Finnish White Guard was the renowned Mannerheim.
The Finnish White Guard, equipped with a German-style General Staff led by Mannerheim and a Jäger Battalion trained by Germany, launched a relentless offensive from the start, driving the Red Army into a corner.
However, the situation changed when Russia began sending volunteer forces and weapons to the Finnish Red Army, leading to a prolonged stalemate. The White Army would launch an attack, only to be repelled, and this pattern has continued to this day.
Meanwhile, I've been pushed around by Trotsky, who was recently promoted to People's Commissar for Military Affairs.
To put it another way, this is simply part of Trotsky's job.
I left for convalescence in Tobolsk and relinquished my position on the Minority Affairs Committee, making me officially unemployed. In other words, no one could object to my being manipulated.
Ah. To be pedantic, there is someone who might object. The real problem is who that person is.
***
"Comrade Siyoung, when will you return to the Minority Affairs Committee?"
The problem was that the person who wanted me was Joseph Stalin, with his shoe-polish mustache.
I was told that after hearing I had returned to Moscow, Stalin had been demanding my immediate reassignment to the Minority Affairs Committee at the Politburo.
Well, it made sense. Stalin couldn't even tell the difference between Koreans, Chinese, and Japanese—what use was he as a Minority Affairs Committee member? If he were Georgian, he'd at least be able to distinguish Azerbaijanis from Armenians.
"I'd still like to rest for a while. Comrade Trotsky asked for my help with something, and I've been busy lately."
"Ah, the Romanovs? That caused quite a stir in the Politburo."
He truly deserved his reputation for being a master of perception, a ghost among men.
A single glance at Stalin made it clear that the General Secretary hadn't won this hand of cards—no, not poker—through mere luck.
"Comrade Siyoung, I know you personally favor the Romanovs, but as a personal friend and a member of the People's Council, I must warn you that this sentiment is extremely dangerous. Of course, you're no fool, so you already understand this."
"Even if I were to claim I've reformed those princesses?"
"Oh, Comrade Siyoung. The problem isn't the children, but their parents. And I trust you're aware of the atrocities committed by Nikolai Romanov during his reign as Emperor."
"So you're saying we should punish not only the parents, but their children as well?"
"In extraordinary times, extraordinary measures are necessary, aren't they?" Stalin said, taking a drag from his cigar.
Was that exactly how he carried out the Great Purge? A chill ran down my spine.
"Then, Comrade Stalin."
"Hmm?"
"Would you care to make a deal with me?"
"What kind of deal?"
It was a bit scary to negotiate with the Iron Marshal, who was always ready to launch a purge, but there was no need to avoid Stalin.
"I'll return to the Minority Affairs Committee. In exchange, please support our position on the Romanovs."
"And what exactly is your position?"
"The public trial of the Romanov couple and the survival of their children."
Pfft! Stalin burst into laughter, nearly choking on his cigar smoke.
I wore a wry smile. Now I understood why Stalin was smiling like that.
"Comrade Siyoung, may I ask you something? Why are you so obsessed with the Romanovs?"
"...Because they will become my political assets."
"Ah. Then I understand."
Stalin was convinced immediately, much faster than I had anticipated.
Stalin and I communicated effectively, but in a different way than Trotsky and I did.
With Trotsky, our conversations flowed on the level of knowledge against knowledge. With Stalin, it felt like we were speaking as politicians.
"In other words, you'll convert the princesses and gain political assets. In exchange, I'll gain useful slaves... no, colleagues. This isn't as bad a deal as I thought."
Slaves? Did I just mishear that?
In the end, it was the ability to grasp the essence of a situation quickly. Trotsky lacked this, while Stalin possessed it.
Wasn't that what ultimately determined their fates?
"Good. I'll inform Comrade Lenin that you're returning to the Minority Affairs Committee. There's an empty room in the Kremlin. You can choose any one thing you want."
"Thank you, Comrade Stalin. Let's work well together in the future."
"What do you mean 'in the future'? Just continue doing what you've been doing."
Watching Stalin's retreating figure, I smiled bitterly.
I had to prevent Stalin from becoming General Secretary at all costs.
I wanted to see a truly democratic Soviet Union, not become someone who merely carved out a place for themselves in a Stalinist dictatorship.
But now, to survive, I've had to ally myself with Stalin.
"How shameful."
In this situation, I have to distance myself from those who treat me with polished courtesy, while I must get close to those who show unrefined kindness tainted by malice, even making them my supreme leader.
It feels like I have to choose between the fast and easy path and the slow and difficult path.
But in most cases, the slow and difficult path is the right answer.
And I was advancing step by step along what I believed to be the right path.
At least, that's what I believed.
And if I continued down this path, I would eventually reach the place I desired.
With that thought, I took another step forward.