Stand Up, Comrades!
"Stand up, you too. #5 Vladimir Lenin."
He was convinced this panic exposed the essential limits of imperialism. In some ways, he even considered the panic a stroke of luck.
But "...why aren't they standing up?"
"Everyone seems too starved to muster the strength, sir."
"No, no. Hunger's no excuse."
Women's suffrage, resolving urban-rural divides, abolishing racial discrimination, erasing class conflict, handing over the means of production. There wasn't a single reason not to follow the soviet and rise. In fact, the Bavarian government was holding up pretty damn well amid the panic. Credit to their prime location.
But "Why are all the comrades keeping their mouths shut?"
At this rate, it was just another pure Paris Commune. Isolation and slow death loomed large. Even with help from European comrades.
"It seems they're pinning this panic on us."
"..."
"Disgusting creatures. Cannibals devouring women and children, now even speechless foreigners. And now ugly lies on top?"
Bavaria had its share of factional infighting too. Just spark an armed uprising as the starting point, and the truth would crumble the rest on its own, right? Lenin couldn't deny it.
Revolution was cool, after all. The kind of thing that made you want to jump in yourself once you saw it up close.
But the good news never came. Only worse.
"These oppressors have shackled the comrades' hands and feet under the guise of rations."
"They treat anyone not joining the ration system as a straight-up national traitor."
Even Lenin had to admit: with their assets, families, and neighbors held hostage by the oppressors, no comrade could easily join the commune. If they could, he wouldn't be leading the vanguard himself.
The problem? Even dragging them as vanguard, if the comrades themselves dug in to die, there was no forcing it—unless you were the oppressor. Oppressors guarding privileges would just kill them outright, but Lenin—whose goal was saving comrades—couldn't.
A truly vile play.
But if those oppressors, those traitors to humanity, played dirty like that, we had counters too. Hostage games called for hostage games.
"Continuous revolution is 'temporarily suspended.'"
"Comrade!"
"The masses are still chained to the oppressors. Without our vanguard stepping up, nothing changes. Hell, they can't."
Lenin smiled bitterly. Repression loomed ahead.
But we must.
A world blind to skin or sex. Adults not exploiting kids. Bursting with comradeship, not nationalism or militarism.
We have to build it.
Drive those cannibals off the planet.
"Prepare the total uprising of comrades across the sea."
If they gripped our supply lines for threats, we'd grip theirs—and revolutionize them. He knew mainlanders' brutality against rebellious colonies all too well; he'd rather not, but for the revolution, he could.
And that wasn't all.
"Tell that friend Mussolini to rise too."
"Pardon? That dyed-in-the-wool nationalist?"
"I know. But if asked which sucks more—imperialism or nationalism—imperialism wins hands down."
Nationalism was a childish fit, but everyone had been a child once. Show them the world; unlike those imperialist cannibals, they might change.
"Poland... those guys too."
"What?! No, they're just militarists in commune drag."
"We picky right now? Revolution's already stalling."
"Militarism? If that military blade turns on the empire, why not join hands?"
Gentlemanly waiting for comrades to rise after showing them the world? That ended now. We'd shown plenty. Time to raise the comrades ourselves—prove the commune's strength. Show the oppressors the power of united, organized humanity.
"Your Excellency! No—Secretary-General Comrade! Mail from Southeast Asian comrades."
"..."
Secretary-General. That title I'd spat out carelessly that day—still made my heart thump sometimes.
Rummage, rummage.
"...Why are they all 'We'll do the revolution, so help us' messages?"
"Who else could they reach out to?"
"India, India, India... India—found it. Here, India."
"Deliver this to Britain. If they're pulling this crap, at least buy a drink first."
"Yes, sir!"
Rummage rummage.
"Hmm. 'We'll revolutionize, so help'—fascinating. Help how? Panic's real, but they still have their cannons."
Lenin stirring them up? But what kind of help? Revolution means marching with cannons. One topples, dominoes fall. Unlike the Philippines, where revolution felt like independence war—different era, foe, methods.
"Start doesn't matter. Revolution's theirs to seize."
Why send bullets to revolution seeds? No armed convoys—that keeps the flame flickering. Revolution ain't independence. Sustain it, or rushed communist setups via train wreck fast.
"Hmm. Why all these invites to me? This screams enemy intel op."
Why plant communist regimes abroad? Why assume I want that? If communism's truly superior, hoard it.
I admit I'm a red. Switch to capitalism later, sure—but real-time command economy to planned? Red as hell.
Local autonomy and cooperatives for self-reliance don't erase funneling resources to heavy industry, exploiting comrades. Just... as a fellow red, their small joys always puzzled me. Cult, basically.
Why chase world revolution? For who? Can't they thrive among themselves like I do?
I needed a Soviet as backup—or rain buddy. That's it. One suffices.
If communism's superior, world communizes naturally. No rush.
"Secretary-General Comrade."
"Hm? What."
"Letter from Baldy."
"Baldy? Was wondering."
Hm.
"Keep the line open, please."
"?"
"Eh, something like that."
I'd linked with Scottish and Irish independence folks before. Cut ties as contact got tough circumstance-wise, but no bad blood—easy to maintain lines.
Problem...
"And front the cash."
"..."
"Sheesh. Comrades hitting me with 'favors' like money. Overkill. Just demand it straight-up like always."
Not like I wouldn't fund Lenin risking his neck against this absurd world. Movie in a snap. Imperialists vs. communists—Baldy's rampage. Sequel: Soviet founding. Perfect.
But...
"What's this line with U.S. black nationalists?"
I'd never connected that.
Black coup and armed revolt in America? Pure white hood conspiracy theory.
"Wait—such a group exists? Intel hit the comrades?"
"Connect a line?"
"Hell no."
Casual move sparks yellow-black vs. white apocalypse.
Better...
"Get Republican whites persecuting blacks harder."
Once they bone-deep realize no black party in America anywhere, whose hand do awakened blacks grab? Not Uncle Sam's.
"Ship 'purified' black comrades on 'visits to old friends' arranged U.S.-side. Include photos of black societies free-farming coffee under the sun."
"..."
Classic dirty play. U.S. blacks despair guaranteed.
"Letter to Theodore: black armed independence forces—black communists—lurking in America. Perfect."
Scribble scribble.
Panic President Theodore—hit by crashes in term two and three—had no juicier target than black commies. Beat 'em for votes, power surge.
Suffering blacks? I'd liberate. In Africa. Fee included. Apartments rising in Sudan now. Apartmentgrads underway. My complexes await new tenants.
Return Africans home? Deny fight space—unborn MLK applauds. Thought it a dump; now get Britain's Australia play. Dumps vary. Imperialist Britain: top-tier. No thanks.
Finished Lenin and black letters with zeal, the Secretary-General flopped on the sofa, popping figs and grapes from the tray.
"Ah, fever parade preps on track?"
Flinch.
"Yes, heard they're progressing."
"Hm. Good."
Liar. As expected. They needed hierarchy sorted for review. I'd skipped directing traffic. On purpose.
Time to motivate eastern comrades. And those SE Asia ones begging my 'approval' for revolution.
"Newly commissioned battleships—Daehan's fleet now handling proficiently?"
"Sir! Combat-ready."
"Yeah? So."
"Show your stuff."
"Pardon?"
"England can't miss SE Asia unrest. Staying put? Our cue."
"Naval exercise with England—in SE Asia."
...
"SE Asia of all places?"
"Yep. Why? Take our cash and rice, now flex? Reason?"
"Yes, sir."
"Dunno. None."
"Pardon?"
"Simple: force projection, morale boost. Tell army nail a flashy fever parade."
"Got it."
Secretary jotted the nonsense. Official intent now.
Guessed it.
Pissed at prior-approval revolutions. What else?
Secretary-General backed self-starters even harshly, but toed-lickers slacking? Humanely barn-bound.
Spot on. I thought exactly that.
Peek my mood on low-interest SE Asia? How revolutionize against entrenched powers there?
Revolution ≠ independence. Philippines example.
Revolution: dismantle privilege. Vatican Reformation. Kill your own dad ultimately.
Fail? PRC 2.0.
Even I—Japan expert—built Joseon via pro-Japs, then purged them and Ito's limbs politically. Revolution demanded it.
So unless urgent, push independence/self-reliance. Not revolution.
Revolution: natural from ripe repression/energy. Not approved.
"See if they want revolution, independence—or nothing."
Flicker at ripples? Compromise independence. Spare innocents from 'revolution' kills.
World ain't ending easy like Philippines.