Empire's Tomb #5: The Sugar Empire
In truth, the spice trade that people always point to when discussing colonialism and imperialism was downright pedestrian compared to sugar. Hell, you could even call sugar the undisputed king of that whole spice game. On par with the ancient salt trade of old, sugar was the raw engine that powered empires in the age of imperialism. The old empires ran on salt; the colonial ones ran on sugar.
Haiti's sugar trade alone accounted for the largest chunk of France's national revenue. What Britain hauled out of India wasn't just tea or cotton cloth—sugar was in the mix too. For colonial empires, sugar wasn't just a profit line; it was a goddamn lifeline. The market scale alone put it in a league of its own.
Right now, sugar isn't just some sweetening agent—it's sugar water that workers get paid in. They weren't adding sugar to tea; they were adding tea to sugar water. Drinking straight sugar water was a chore, so tea was solidly in the realm of necessities. That was the daily grind for the era's basic laborer: quenching your thirst with sugar water every day before heading to the worksite.
And what about the Korean Empire? Its sugar sources were plenty diverse and abundant, but the biggest by far was China. Calling China the Korean Empire's profit line—no, its lifeline—wasn't wrong at all. But the Supreme Leader quietly hated that fact. What if something went down in China and the Korean Empire had to get involved? He wanted to downgrade China from "essential partner" to "nice to have." That way, even with civil wars and warlords popping up everywhere, he could just sit back and watch like it was someone else's house fire.
The chronic sugar price hikes weren't part of his plan. That's why he'd been pushing for sugar self-sufficiency for a while now. But the Korean Empire hadn't converted Taiwan's coffee plantations to sugar fields, nor whipped the Satsuma bastards into coughing up more sugar. Korea didn't want to pull the same stunt on the Satsuma clan that they'd done to the Okinawans—turning everything into sugar plantations, monopolizing daily necessities, and squeezing them dry. To be precise, they were doing something like that with coffee in Taiwan, but they couldn't with the Japanese, i.e., the Satsuma clan. It was obvious they'd just squeeze the Okinawans harder.
If the shogunate demanded sugar from Satsuma, you knew exactly where it'd come from and how it'd be extracted. Instead, Korea had been screwing over the Satsuma clan while breaking free from Chinese sugar dependence by introducing sugar substitutes to Korean tables. Corn syrup from the Korean Empire's Manchurian corn belt, banana ketchup from the southern concession zones, and saccharin from Korea's most secretive pharmaceutical industry—that was the lineup. Especially saccharin, which the Supreme Leader managed personally rather than outsourcing to comrades, much like he did with cocaine. The raw materials demanded extremely strict control—really, extremely strict.
The silver lining? Saccharin packed so much sweetness per gram that even direct government oversight yielded solid output.
The Supreme Leader figured these substitutes would push sugar—the sweet nectar of imperialism—out of the Korean Empire. Once they flooded the market, sugar prices couldn't stay high. Lower prices would naturally atrophy the sugar industry, quieting the Korean Empire's imperialist hormones. Controlling prices was crucial. Fail at that, and you'd get all sorts of bizarre imperialist logic to "fix" it—like invading the Middle East for oil or Southeast Asia for sugar. Suddenly, the streets would buzz with that kind of wild talk.
The Supreme Leader doused that imperialist fever first. This age of empires was heading toward its endgame anyway. Soon, the world would enter the age of revolution.
Britain condemned Korea's unilateral war exit but was also eager to negotiate. Mad at Korea? Hardly. Britain was in the exact same boat, sympathizing with Korea's position.
We don't want France winning big from this war, nor Germany, nor Russia—and especially not America coming out on top. That was Britain's stance in a nutshell. They were just trash-talking because France was predictably throwing a fit.
The problem? Britain was already in the war, and with the Eastern Front ceasefire, German pressure on the Western Front had ramped up. Hell, even captured German troops were heading back home. Britain sympathized with Korea but couldn't avoid criticizing its actions. Thing was, there wasn't much they could do about it. Neither France nor Britain had solid alternatives besides Korea. They were already getting supplies from America and conscripting troops from colonies. All able-bodied workers were women now, and every man was dragged to the front. Their only hope was their own planes and the "tanks" from Korea to turn this hell around.
So Britain and France planned to keep criticizing Korea while demanding it rejoin the fight. Britain went without saying, but France—as the primary player on the Western Front—couldn't just straight-up bash Korea without consequences. If Russia and Germany actually ended the war like this, Britain's blockade policy would collapse, twisting the whole France-vs-Germany diplomatic setup of "containing Germany." France was beating Germany through diplomacy and money, not raw combat power.
Britain could squeeze Korea relentlessly, but France had little leverage beyond nagging Britain. France knew it. They were the ones in a hurry, yet they had no pull with Korea. That's why the Korean Empire's secret letter hit France like a breath of fresh air.
"Let's gut India and stop the Jewish nation's Israel."
For France, it was a mouthwatering proposal. Jerusalem was practically their lifeline right now. Britain's plot to carve it out, hand it to the Jews, and found Israel? Korea was blowing the whistle straight to France.
Nothing left to sell, so they're selling out their allies.
Couldn't deny it. France was dying out there—its entire industry shaking. If the war ended and Palestine went independent, could France even fight? They weren't sure themselves. Especially if Britain and the Jews refused to buy their war bonds. Exactly the kind of sneaky shit Britain would pull.
France had zero doubts about the proposal's cunning logic. They'd dealt with it long enough. In that light, Korea's "request" (not quite a request) was tantalizing: turn the tables on the British who were feeding on them.
The catch? Korea wouldn't step up—or more precisely, couldn't. Even if France sold off Pondicherry and other French India Company lands in the Indian protectorate, backed Indian independence, and lodged a fierce protest against Britain's Israel scheme, Korea would stay silent or even side against France. Korea had no intention of becoming Britain's enemy—or the Jews'. Its support for France was limited.
Especially since Britain and France weren't exactly buddies. But Korea laid out where France could reach for help, how Korea could extend a hand, and what it could get elsewhere.
France has strong sway over Italy, Korea has some pull there too, and Britain is trying to drag Italy to its side.
Basically: everyone buy some Italian coin while you're at it—France included. Italy demanding French land as "real wages" would sting, but what Korea could funnel through Italy was plenty enticing for France.
Independent battleship construction tech. Their own oil supply line. Massive iron ore deposits. Above all, they'd stockpile the iron ore France's industry desperately needed right in Italian ports—come and get it. Irresistible.
Iron ore was a raw material, so port access and distance mattered. Teaming up with Italy made bulk shipping to France a breeze. It turned France-Korea routes into France-Italy-Korea, France-Italy, France-Korea combos, exploding transport volume.
Battleship tech? France's was a ghost of itself—hamstrung by British meddling, budget woes, and the youth faction. Partner with Italy (which still had the know-how), reference Korean Empire's British dreadnought blueprints? Game-changer.
France's concerns weren't just the current war. Post-victory demobilization would gut the army; the navy had to fill the gap. Battleships were essential. France wasn't short on iron—it was the second-biggest colonial empire after Britain. Suppressing colonial revolts demanded warships. Korea had nailed that point.
Surprisingly, France cared less about oil than expected. Or rather, they figured, Just buy it from America, right? Unlike Britain, France and America had always been besties among allies.
The key was Korea flashing its "hand"—and the future it promised was damn appealing. Pick one main supplier to dodge British eyes: Italy (Mussolini), Switzerland (Lenin), or Vatican (Pope). Bonus advice.
As France pondered deeply, Korea hammered home how the Eastern Front was worse than imagined. France silently consented to that "gentlemen's agreement."
With the frothiest critic—France—coming to her senses and zipping it, Britain naturally agreed too. Just stipulate it wasn't a full armistice.
Western Front pressure was real, but Britain didn't want Russia crushing Germany—or vice versa. Best case: wrap up the West moderately, then end both fronts together. An early Eastern ceasefire would crush the West under too much strain. Let everyone bleed out, and victorious Britain cleans up. The autonomy concessions to colonies? Reclaim them later.