Atatürk and the Tsarina
The Southern Russian White Army under Anton Denikin moved with ruthless precision and startling speed. They advanced as if reclaiming ancestral soil. Positioning themselves as guardians of the Orthodox Church and rightful successors to the Eastern Roman Empire, they surged into Anatolia with thunderous declarations that they would take back what was theirs.
“What the hell? Why are the Russians here?”
“It’s an army we can’t possibly stop!”
The troops of the Grand National Assembly fell into despair. The sight of that force rolling toward them like a tidal wave was enough to crush their will to fight.
The Russian army suffered no shortages. The Entente provided transport ships and provisions, while weapons overflowed—German arms meant for the French front, seized to keep them from communist hands. Having mercilessly hammered the Reds, these battle-hardened elite troops now turned their full strength against the Grand National Assembly, whose only viable strategy was defense.
Greece, which had intended to lodge a protest, was so cowed by the White Army’s momentum that it dared not speak and simply withdrew.
And so the Turkish Grand National Assembly tasted hell.
“The Russian White Army, supported by the great powers, has entered Anatolia.”
“H-how many?”
“They’ve only just emerged from civil war. They can’t have mobilized that many, surely.”
They had not been unconcerned about Russia, but this was too fast. With internal stabilization still urgent, how could the Russians possibly move against them now? The Grand National Assembly, unaware of the true situation surrounding Saint Anastasia and Russia, had assumed Russia would be unable to intervene in this conflict.
“Two hundred thousand men, armed with German weapons.”
In conditions far worse than the original history, the Assembly had strung together miraculous victories and believed true independence was near. But the news that two hundred thousand White Russian troops had appeared as enemies drove their morale into the ground.
Did it truly have to come to this? What sin had the Ottoman Empire committed to deserve such relentless beating and dismemberment?
“Anton Denikin’s Russian White Army has halted its advance at Samsun.”
“There can’t have been any engagement. Why stop there?”
Samsun was currently undefended. Why halt in such a place? Of course, continued advance would have exposed Denikin’s forces to guerrilla warfare, yet at this moment they held every advantage.
“Perhaps they suspect a trap?”
“What do we do now?”
The Grand National Assembly descended into confusion. There were no answers left. Another two hundred thousand troops had joined the enemy—Slavic peoples who had long coveted Ottoman Turkish land. They were mortal enemies, irreconcilable.
At this point Mustafa Kemal seriously wondered whether he had, in fact, been doing everything wrong. If he abandoned everything here and now, wouldn’t history remember him forever for it? He shook his head, casting aside the moment of weakness.
No. Not yet. If the Russians were merely fools throwing bodies forward, perhaps the situation differed. The problem was that even an army relying on numbers alone remained a lethal threat.
The Russian forces now entering Anatolia were formidable indeed.
“General İnönü. Can we win?”
“Realistically, it is impossible. What we have achieved until now has been closer to a miracle—and even that depended on the supplies the Italians abandoned when they deserted.”
The Grand National Assembly’s army had survived on weapons left behind by Italy, which had withdrawn in dissatisfaction after failing to receive Dalmatia following the Great War. And now two hundred thousand Russian troops? Worse, they were not merely numerous but properly equipped with modern arms. No one knew where they had obtained them, but the Russian soldiers, decked out in German gear, had sliced into Anatolia and were proudly proclaiming themselves the true heirs of Rome.
They were the army that had crushed the internal Reds in successive victories during the civil war and rebuilt a shattered Russia.
“If they had only numbers, perhaps. But this is a force tempered by civil war, with abundant supplies. Victory for us seems… highly unlikely.”
“The Entente has sent another proposal, I understand?”
With Russian entry into the war, the Entente had renewed its offer—this time revised after Italy’s withdrawal and with adjustments regarding Greece.
“Yes. The northern Turkish territories inhabited by Pontic Greeks, along with Eastern Thrace including Constantinople, will be ceded to Russia. In exchange, they will allow us to retain central and southern Anatolia.”
They would also recognize as Turkish certain coastal lands along the Sea of Marmara slated for international administration, excluding former Eastern Roman territories granted to Russia. Of course, with the Aegean islands going to Greece, the territories seized by Britain and France, and the Kurdish autonomous region, the pill was bitter. Yet it preserved slightly more land than the original partition.
The Russians, now able to boast openly as Rome’s descendants, would be the ones laughing. In practical terms, the new Turkey would never again be able to build national strength with its former momentum. Still, when survival itself was at stake, what choice existed? The Entente promised independence once they had taken everything they wanted.
“The Russians must be salivating,” Kemal muttered.
“And this was sent directly from the Russian side.”
“From the Russians?”
“It is said to be a personal letter from the princess.”
Your Excellency,
I propose we speak directly, away from the eyes of the great powers. The outcome need not be total destruction for either side.
— Anastasia, Tsarina of All Russia
Upon receiving Anastasia’s personal letter, Mustafa Kemal felt a lingering unease about whether he should even open it. Yet this princess had personally fought and crushed the Reds. Like himself, she had confronted national crises on the battlefield. If the goddess of war had sent a personal letter, what could it contain?
As expected, it was not a demand for surrender—
“No. She wants to talk?”
“A conversation? From the Russian princess?”
“Apparently.”
Even if they met, the substance would likely remain the same. Still, she proposed dialogue—and in secret from the great powers. Did that not suggest she sought some compromise?
“It is a trap. They mean to lure the general out and kill him.”
“She suggests Samsun.”
Of course Anton Denikin’s army was there. Yet the invitation was genuinely for conversation. Perhaps it was worth meeting once. Who could say? The other side might present an unexpected offer.
Atatürk stood before me.
The man who had given Churchill the splendid nickname “Mr. Gallipoli.” The figure who had risen as the hero of the Ottomans by grinding the Entente army into dust at Gallipoli. To think I would meet him in the flesh—and during negotiations over the partition of the Ottoman Empire, no less.
Personally, I had always rather liked him for thoroughly humiliating Churchill in the First World War, true to his pirate spirit. Yet here we were.
“It is an honor to meet the Saint of All Russia. I am Mustafa Kemal.”
“The hero of Gallipoli and the Turkish War of Independence. To meet General Mustafa Kemal in person. I regret that we must encounter each other under these circumstances.”
“If you truly regret it, then withdraw your troops. I understand Russia’s wounds from the civil war are hardly insignificant.”
Wow. He’s dripping with venom. Well, I suppose that’s fair. We had suddenly marched a massive army into his country with the clear intent of destroying it.
In the real world, relations between Korea and Turkey were quite good. But this world and that one were entirely different. Moreover, this body was the Russian princess. The relationship between Russia—the successor to Eastern Rome—and the Ottomans who had destroyed it could hardly be warm. Especially not in the current situation.
“I would like to withdraw, but that is impossible. We received substantial help from the great powers, and this matter is how we intend to repay them. Besides, I also wish to claim Constantinople as my share.”
“It is Istanbul.”
“Was it not the Ottoman Turks who destroyed Eastern Rome and seized that land by force? To us, its rightful inheritors, that sacred Roman soil remains Constantinople.”
Constantinople to us! How dare you call it Istanbul?
“Are you dredging up the past to pressure us?”
Kemal, sensing he would lose a war of words, changed the subject. Fine. The main point mattered more. I needed to secure Constantinople and leave.
“As the general says, we too carry wounds from the civil war. Fighting another conflict at a time when we must tend to public sentiment would be a gamble. That is precisely why I have come. Please hear our new proposal.”
“You call that a proposal!”
His determination to fight to the end was impressive. I respected it. Fight to the last man—that was admirable. But such resolve required an army. And weapons. They had neither.
“Do you have an army capable of fighting? Do you have abundant supplies? If we, in full coordination with Britain and France, strike from both north and south, can you endure it?”
He could not refute me. Of course he couldn’t.
“We Turks will resist the enemy to the last man.”
“Predictable. You will declare you will fight until everyone is dead, hoping to disgust the Entente into negotiating. Something like that.”
“!!”
“Unfortunately, after showing leniency to Germany in the Great War, Britain and France are determined to destroy at least you. They have the pride of colonial empires to maintain. You know how repulsive those two nations are, don’t you?”
Mustafa Kemal, İsmet İnönü, and the soldiers of the Grand National Assembly stared at me in stunned silence, as if they could not believe what they were hearing.
What? We are the successors of Eastern Rome. We can afford to give you attitude.
After a moment, Kemal regained his composure and continued, visibly swallowing his rage.
“If we surrender, only central and southern Anatolia will remain to us.”
“You can still protect that much—before every last Ottoman dies. Britain and France need the symbolic victory of your surrender. Consider that the consideration they have shown so far is precisely because you fought so fiercely until now.”
Was this not far more merciful than the fate the Ottomans had inflicted on Eastern Rome after it had begged for its life? At least they were offering to preserve the state.
When you thought about it, the logic was simple. Kemal had refused the partition of the Ottomans. The Entente therefore decided to destroy even what remained of the empire to prove the Great War had been their complete victory. But Kemal was mounting a cosmic defense. Very well—secure the surrender first. That was the calculation.
Britain needed to save face, so it had to subdue the Ottomans somehow. France, where the stench of communism was already rising, required no further explanation. If Kemal continued to hold out, everyone would die together. But the ones who would truly perish were the Turks.
The other great powers would preserve their states whether they suffered civil war or not. Turkey, however, would cease to exist. The Pontic Greeks would gain independence. Kurdistan would break away. Britain and France would vent all their frustrations on what remained.
“If not for those damned British bastards, we would never have joined that filthy war! And now you tell us to submit to them again. Again!”
Atatürk shot to his feet and roared.
I understood. Churchill had deceived them with warships. The Ottomans had every right to feel wronged. Their pride had been shredded.
But eventually, a better day would come.
“There will be an opportunity someday.”
“An opportunity?”
“This war will not be the end. The conclusion was ugly, and communists now control Germany. When that time comes, our Russia can assist your country and help reclaim some of what Britain and France have taken.”
The opportunity would arrive. Britain and France would then pour every resource into eradicating the red plague called Germany. In the end they would be forced to abandon everything beyond their homelands—spitting out all the fat lands they had gorged upon, just as in the original history. Turkey would demand the return of its territories. At that point, looking the other way would cost us nothing.