Daehan's Spring #1
Korea's democratization actually drew more attention from its neighboring countries than from Koreans themselves. The locals were too busy scraping by to care much, but from the outside, it looked downright suspicious. Especially since Korea was a one-party cooperative state with a cabinet system modeled after Britain and Japan, while incorporating Russian-style reforms that granted autonomy to local assemblies. It was impossible not to pay attention.
What they feared most, though, was the removal of the Supreme Leader as the ultimate restraint. His moods were unpredictable even to those close to him, but the rest of Daehan's elite knew better. And in the eyes of Russia, Britain, Japan, and China, Daehan's masses were textbook nationalists—out-and-out expansionists. The top brass might be communists, but the rank-and-file were communists who were patriots, or rather militarists. Especially now, with Europe in decline, they believed Daehan had to step up as Asia's big brother.
The Supreme Leader, who'd pushed Daehan's rise, had disarmed the fleet without a peep, but if anyone else even whispered the word "disarmament," they'd turn into Red Guards overnight. Maybe his intentions weren't conquest after all. They served him loyally, just in case. No amount of public education could change that—the times were what they were, soldiers were treated well, and the country had leaped at least one, if not two, tiers after the war. It made sense.
'Does the Supreme Leader really want Daehan's conquests to continue after he steps down?'
'Is the goal all of Asia?'
'Will he leave the navy to Japan?'
Everyone was baffled as to why the Supreme Leader was pushing democratization. Only he knew the masses wanted it themselves, watching with a pleased smile as they geared up for cabinet changes. The rest of the world saw through it: he was the one driving democratization, and through it, pursuing some grand scheme. Foreign press pegged the odds high that it was conquest, like Napoleon rallying the French.
"What kind of bullshit is that?"
I brushed off my comrades' probing hints about conquest rumors. If Daehan tried conquering right now, it'd be southern China at best. And China was a mess of warlord fiefdoms—one province per strongman, the Five Hu and Sixteen Kingdoms all over again. Sure, let's say we go to war. Could we end it quick? Even if we did, that's a problem. Conquest means absorbing even more Chinese into a population already thick with them. Best case, it stops there. But those conquered Chinese would stir up the ones already in Daehan, agitating for "liberation from oppression."
Swallowing those radical Chinese factions? Hard pass. We'd take immigrants, sure, but expanding territory? Not a chance. Better to let them wallow in poverty—it'd force Daehan's Chinese to build new lives as Koreans. Embrace them all fully? They'd never feel the need to assimilate. A hundred percent they'd rebel, China exploding out of Daehan like a bomb. Better to let them form their own ethnic nation-state. Ideally under some control, but poking the hornet's nest risks who-knows-what, so we leave it alone.
'Forced partitions by outsiders only fuel reunification drives.'
Conquest of China was nonsense for the same reasons, whatever the goal. We'd burn ourselves down instead of achieving it. Short of turning it into another Dzungaria, no solution.
"If we must conquer, we'd have to expel every Chinese from the territory or bury them deep in Daehan's heartland. You really want that?"
That'd make it the Republic of Chinese People, plain and simple. Do it, and it's the Republic; don't, and it's just China. No conquest made sense. Why didn't they get it?
"Just focus on the democratization. I said make the Supreme Leader an honorary post—why no progress there?"
"They threatened to kill me the second I opened my mouth. Death threat letters poured in. I even showed them the official seal."
"...Yeah, fair enough."
Once you're a tiger, you can't just retire from the mountain. Foxes profiting off your name don't care, but to the rabbits, it's apocalypse. Daehan's soldier perks were basically all on me right now. East Asia never treated troops well. No education or conscription fixed that. The good treatment existed only because I diverted massive budgets and supplies, force-feeding them salaries. If I went honorary? Pay might stick, but new barracks? Doubtful. Soldiers weren't idiots—they'd resent the squeeze.
But what could they do? I was in London, cheering democratization nationwide from afar. They'd have to accept reality eventually. The military couldn't act with me gone.
'Maybe overthinking it. Better not create worries in the first place.'
I was the military, and the military was me—or so I thought. Junior officers? Who knows. Regrettably for them, with me out of Daehan, they couldn't win. My loyalists infested the ranks. I'd just pulled the real powers here because I was the biggest threat to democratization—the military itself.
"Enjoying the London holiday, everyone?"
All these star-studded officers, glittering with rank. Junior officers on the cusp of patriotic resolve, desperate for contact. They jumped at my invite to travel. Now, with them in London, Daehan was deep in democratization debates.
That's right—they were trapped here. I knew coups inside out, and how to prevent them. Until democratization stabilized, they roomed with me. Unlimited London tourism, on me.
"Even a strong Daehan can't beat the world. Without democratization now, we'll fight it."
''''……''''
"Need more reasons?"
Bureaucrat-turned-soldier like me, we were conservative by nature. Progressives? Oil and water. Daehan needed progress now, so we had to step aside.
'Said Supreme Leader and Secretary-General could both go honorary.'
My shadow still loomed heavy over Daehan—bittersweet. No illusions about democracy or democratization, but I knew failing it meant isolation. Even if compromise was its Achilles' heel.
'A mere military dictator couldn't have survived the Depression anyway.'
A bitter laugh.
"We should join that economic bloc too."
"Join."
Shibusawa, back as Japanese PM, mulled it over slowly. Felt like even reinstated, he had less freedom than before. Could it even work? Anyway.
"Plain talk: we'd serve Britain too."
"Got a problem with that?"
Fair point. The Japan-Britain gap was narrower than ever—Japan's wartime boom outpaced even America's growth rates. Daehan hadn't ground its people to dust in the war, but Japan had, fueling insane growth that briefly topped Daehan's. Postwar hangover hit hard. Exiled from Daehan, the masses dreamed of flower paths ahead—but that was the flower path. Serve? Why not. Japan could afford it now, gaps tighter than old Britain-Daehan ones.
"Let's at least lay the 88-fleet cornerstone."
"Displacement makes it impossible."
88 what? Dreadnoughts? Even 44 was a stretch.
"Can't trail forever. Daehan wants that too."
"So they'll let us in?"
"Daehan says crashing the party anytime's fine. Key is recognition—not equal to Britain-Daehan, but right below. Guaranteed."
"Via training ships?"
"Korea has no naval ambitions, but we Japanese must seize the seas. Then Korea respects us."
Everyone knew. Korea's democratization meant loosening the restraint. The enigmatic Supreme Leader had held it back, but masses demanded living space. Diverse classes surfacing meant demands projected outward—imperialist style. Japan knew, riding its own populist wave for resources. Oil wasn't just military ask. Booted from Daehan over Wilson, Japan geared for negotiations pronto.
Daehan's democratization looked perilously risky to neighbors. But Japan's pressure paled next to China's. Whatever the Supreme Leader thought, to Chinese it screamed invasion of the Central Plains. Time to pay tribute, that vibe.