The Hero of Italy and the Roman National Party
Promoting the Italian hero to Minister of Culture and Arts with massive publicity had a profound ripple effect on the surrounding nations. Rumors spread that the new Tsarina was utterly obsessed with arts like novels and paintings. The French, whose territory had briefly sheltered Ivan Bunin, congratulated the appointment of such a renowned literary master as cultural minister. On top of that, a great many German artists defected to our side. Communist Germany, of course, spewed nonsense about how the Tsarina—having lost her father in such a manner—had clearly lost her mind and was neglecting state affairs in her artistic delirium. These idiots didn’t even realize that real power rested in the State Duma.
Hmm. Not bad.
That part was pleasant to see. Still, Russia remained painfully short of talent. Developments in culture and the arts were all well and good, but surely a country like this needed an abundance of scholars above all. I had declared my orientation toward the arts, yet that didn’t mean I wanted to funnel money in that direction. Even so, I never imagined Italy’s Gabriele D’Annunzio would actually come to Russia. The man was essentially the godfather of Italian nationalism—the very root of the fascism our Mussolini crowd had drawn from. He was quite the figure. During the First World War he had scattered propaganda leaflets over Vienna; when Italy failed to receive the territories it had been promised, he flew into a rage. The citizens of the city-state of Fiume supported him and hailed him as Duce. Mussolini later stole that title outright. Obsessed with Rome, D’Annunzio had tried to remake Fiume in the Roman style—complete with tribunes, dictators, a national flag, and even its own currency. It was said he absorbed the very suppression forces sent to crush him. Yet by 1921 it had all ended with his absorption into the Giolitti cabinet.
I didn’t know everything about the man, but I possessed both the fragments of knowledge I’d picked up by chance and the information gathered through the Ohrana. Had he dominated all of Italy, he might truly have restored a Roman system. In this timeline, had Italy’s fall into communism driven him to flee to Russia?
That was why I had decided to meet him. I wanted to hear the full story. I personally welcomed this hero of Italy inside the Kremlin Palace.
“It is surprising to meet the hero of Italy.”
“Ohh! It is an honor to stand before the Emperor of Rome. I never dreamed His Imperial Majesty would even know my name.”
“There is no need to view it as such an honor. Having endured a communist civil war, we must be selective with our refugees. That is how your name came to my attention, and why I wished to see you.”
“Is that so?”
Above all, this man would surely possess useful information about the current state of Italy. With Italy now cozied up to Germany and effectively isolated, and with the Ohrana unable to penetrate there, we had to rely on defectors for intelligence. The fact that he had come here suggested the present Italy no longer suited him.
“Does communized Italy suppress its artists as well?”
Best to ask directly.
“It is not merely suppression—they are tearing everything down to the foundations. That fool Mussolini shouts about restoring the glory of Rome, yet his actions are those of a red through and through. No, he is an idiot who is neither one thing nor the other.”
“Communists always say one thing and do another, don’t they? In any case, welcome. What do you intend to do in Russia?”
I knew none of his works, only that he was a man deeply steeped in Orientalism. Still, given his record, he might have lived out his days honorably as a soldier. Then again, that path would almost certainly have ended with him branded a war criminal and executed.
“For the time being I plan to live by the pen. The Italy of today will not see Rome again until communism collapses.”
“I see.”
This man had quite the reputation with women. Would he truly content himself with writing?
An interesting thought occurred to me. If this man survived until the Second World War, what if we crushed Mussolini’s communist Italy and installed him as the new Duce of a reborn nation?
“Russia embraces a wide spectrum of literature—our own, Germany’s, and even that of the distant East. I hope you will contribute to the literary advancement of this country.”
“That would not be difficult.”
“You seem to have something more to say.”
He was mumbling, clearly holding back a great deal.
“I have heard there is a party called the Roman National Party.”
Roman National Party. For a moment I nearly lost my composure. What on earth was that?
The face of the Black Baron standing beside me twisted strangely. I gave him a subtle signal with my chin, and he bowed his head closer.
“The Roman National Party. Do you know what it is?”
“Well… that is…”
The Black Baron explained. The more I heard, the more astonished I became. The Roman National Party had been founded by White Army veterans. It declared the recovery of Constantinople and proclaimed itself the legitimate successor to the Eastern Roman Empire. Ostensibly created to lend even a sliver of strength to the Romanov dynasty—which continued solely by my own authority—it was in truth little more than an Anastasia fan club for middle-aged military men. In polite terms, a monarchist political faction. In blunt terms, a gathering of respectable older gentlemen who treated me like an idol. Surprisingly, it had grown into a genuine force. They had probably chosen the name to ride the wave of Rome-mania, and the party had become larger than expected. Its founder was Roman von Ungern-Sternberg. If he had created it, this was no mere romantic obsession with Rome; it was a support base for the Tsar who had transferred real power to the State Duma. Perhaps he had intended to cultivate a proper monarchist faction. Given their White Army credentials and fame for crushing the reds, it made a certain sense. It seemed the name “Roman National Party” had been strongly recommended by Roman’s close friend Grigory Semyonov.
These damn White Army fossils and their unnecessary meddling! I thought for the briefest instant, then reconsidered. Well… Russia’s current Rome craze, the spirit of the Romans, and so on. It wasn’t bad. The Russia of my original world had ridden the Soviet legacy; this Russia would ride the Byzantine and Roman legacy instead. As long as it didn’t devolve into something like Nazism, what did it matter?
Gabriele D’Annunzio was waiting for my answer. I could not pretend ignorance, so I forced a knowing smile.
“Ahem. Yes, such a party does exist.”
“Might I join it? If Russia is the true successor of Rome, then I too wish to become a member.”
His Rome obsession remained fully intact. Perhaps our possession of Constantinople had something to do with it.
“You do not yet possess Russian citizenship, do you?”
“If you will grant it, I shall take it at once.”
“You would abandon your Italian citizenship?”
“Not for the Italy that exists today. That red Italy cannot possibly be called a descendant of Rome. Rather than witness such a sight, I should have marched my army into Rome back when all of Fiume stood behind me.”
Yes, I suppose that was one way to look at it. But I was genuinely curious about the true state of affairs in Italy. For him to come all the way to Russia while speaking like this…
“You must bear deep grudges.”
“The current secretary-general of Italy, Benito Mussolini, declares that the secretary-general is the Duce. He even praised me.”
It seemed he had staged quite the spectacle to drive D’Annunzio out. What on earth was Mussolini thinking? He must have grown sick of his red-flavored Italy.
“What of the Pope?”
“Benito Mussolini apparently could not touch the Pope, so he established the Papal States separately.”
So the Vatican City that should have appeared in 1929 had emerged now?
“The Vatican has become independent?”
“Mussolini recognized the independence of the Papal States. The actual territory is the Vatican, yet he says he will refer to it as the Papal States.”
“Hmm.”
It seemed he had offered the papal side far more concessions than in original history. The Lateran Treaty had been signed on February 11, 1929, between Benito Mussolini, prime minister of the Kingdom of Italy, and Pope Pius XI. This was five years early. Recognizing the Papal States—did that mean tax revenue would flow in that direction as well? No. How exactly was Mussolini’s communist Italy functioning?
“Of course, this was not formally recognized by His Holiness. The Vatican still calls itself the Prisoner in the Vatican. They have denounced Benito Mussolini as the ‘Red Aggression.’”
Red Aggression. In this world, had the Pope ended up recognizing neither the Kingdom of Italy nor communist Italy? Prisoner in the Vatican. Red Aggression. It looked as though 21st-century Italian history textbooks would contain far more colorful entries.
“So the Pope has not recognized it.”
Perhaps after the initial war of words, formal recognition would still come in 1929. Or perhaps, having established red Italy, everything would unfold differently.
“Naturally. Mussolini claims he has reached a compromise with the Pope both at home and abroad and is extending every possible courtesy to the Papal States.”
“Are the Italian people accepting Benito Mussolini?”
“Yes. They praise Secretary-General Mussolini, saying he will revive Rome. Unlike Germany, he has kept the royal family alive for now, which allowed him to persuade the monarchists.”
I see. In the end the Italian masses stood with the Duce. The Papal States were there but might as well not be. Wordplay alone was enough for them to accept it. Mussolini appeared more stable than Germany. Indeed, unlike Germany he had preserved the royal house, and with widespread resentment toward Britain and France, he had likely mixed sweet rhetoric with communism to win popular support. In other words, the Italian Socialist Republic he had founded was closer to fascism wearing a communist mask. Communist Germany had either adopted the Italian model or fully embraced the communist label. Whether communism and Rome could truly coexist remained to be seen, but judging by the current state of affairs, another world war seemed inevitable.
Another interesting thought occurred to me. There was D’Annunzio, but the Papal States offered many possibilities. After we dealt with red Italy later, perhaps entrusting the governance of the entire peninsula to the Papal States would be wise. An Italian peninsula containing only the Papal States in the 21st century? There would probably be a surge of Pope-mania. Or perhaps, when the time came, handing Italy over to Gabriele D’Annunzio while simultaneously reviving the Papal States would be rather entertaining.
“Very well. Join the Roman National Party. However, if you take Russian citizenship, you must do a great deal for Russia.”
“Of course.”
Since he had declared both his intention to accept Russian citizenship and to join the Roman National Party, I would need to pay him proper attention. That was enough for this man. Others had arrived as well—among them Enrico Fermi, one of the very scientists who would later participate in the Manhattan Project. It seemed he too had fled Mussolini’s communism. I should place him in the Russian Academy of Sciences. Perhaps I ought to introduce him to Einstein.
“It is truly remarkable that Russia is becoming a land of asylum,” the Black Baron said with a surprised expression after the Rome-obsessed D’Annunzio had withdrawn.
“Is it?”
“Honestly, Russia is not yet a nation people would normally seek refuge in, is it?”
To state such facts with such a straight face!
“In the end it is a reflexive reaction. Since communism erupted there, people naturally flock to the powerful anti-communist state that crushed it.”
People are like that. Screw the communists. We’re going to Russia, the nation that beat them!
“Now then, is there another item on the agenda?”
“Yes. The physicists, led by Dr. Einstein, have requested an audience with Your Majesty today.”
“Then we shall receive them.”
I wondered why our Einstein wished to see me. I had been thinking of connecting him with Enrico Fermi, and the timing was perfect.
The second time I saw Einstein since his initial defection, he looked positively radiant.
“So, Dr. Einstein. What did you wish to tell me?”
“Your Majesty, thanks to the consideration you have shown, I have been able to settle comfortably in Russia.”
I had worked extremely hard on Einstein’s behalf—pouring in every kind of support. To look as good as possible I had favored scientists, even establishing the Russian Academy of Sciences.
“Is there something you desire?”
“Your Majesty has also declared that you will accept the asylum of artists.”
“That is correct.”
Yes. That was precisely why so many were now flowing into Russia. To aid their defection, the Ohrana had even spread rumors that communist Germany dispatched party members to assassinate artists who fled abroad in order to suppress them.
“Is physics not equally important?”
Of course it was. Couldn’t he see the answer simply by looking at why I had favored him so lavishly? Yet what was he trying to say by bringing this up? I still needed to dangle the nuclear bait.