Chapter 385
Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Soviets
“The easiest way to dismantle nationalism? Create a new nation.”
Josip Broz Tito, the founding father of the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia, sought to counter nationalism by inventing the “Yugoslav nation.”
“If the Yugoslavs come to see themselves as Yugoslavs, what does ethnicity even matter?”
Tito’s solution was, in fact, a historically proven method.
The Han Chinese of the original timeline made a fine example.
The Han, a massive ethnic group exceeding a billion people in a single category, weren’t originally “the same people” at all.
The Han ethnicity, rooted in the Hua-Xia, was a mishmash concept forged by devouring and assimilating countless other peoples.
To bind together ethnic groups with differing cultures, mindsets, and languages, the Han created the concept of “Zhonghua” and merged them into one.
It took an immense amount of time and effort, of course.
Even a 20th-century state like the Soviet Union could pull it off.
Unlike earlier times, nationalism had already taken root, but that didn’t mean there were no countermeasures.
Korea proposed creating “Soviets” first as a response to nationalism.
Since it came from Korea, the “ethnicity experts” who had successfully assimilated foreigners like Germans, the Soviets took Pyongyang’s advice seriously.
“But I’m not sure it’ll be as easy as it sounds.”
That’s why Korea had come prepared.
“How about starting with a drama about Chernobyl?”
“A drama about Chernobyl? Isn’t that a dangerous topic?”
To the Soviet Communist Party, Chernobyl was an utterly uncomfortable story.
A bitter truth too nauseating to mention, one they wanted to turn away from.
But Pyongyang saw it differently.
“Crises can be turned into opportunities.”
The heroic struggle against an unstoppable disaster, and the epic human saga it produced.
What better weapon to give substance to the ethereal ideal of “Soviets”?
A heart-stirring story formed the most vital backbone for forging a nation.
The “Ukrainian nation,” born in the 21st century, had gained form through stories built around its struggle against Russia.
Korea leveraged this point to strongly persuade them on producing Chernobyl.
“But won’t that highlight the Party’s incompetence?”
“Just pin it on your political enemies.”
Dump all the problems on your rivals.
It was a tactic favored by China’s dictator, Xi Jinping.
“Under the banner of corruption.”
Xi had risen to the throne without holding military power or anything else, but he swept away his rivals by wielding the charge of corruption.
Compared to that, Shelepin had plenty in his arsenal.
He had the military, intelligence agencies, and the Party.
With a suitable pretext, crushing opponents would be child’s play.
It was inconceivable that Shelepin, now the Soviet Union’s top leader, hadn’t considered such a simple idea.
Yet he hadn’t raised it because he believed the Soviet Union couldn’t tolerate even the slightest discord.
Korea stressed that this was the only viable option.
“There’ll be noise, but once you clean house, it’ll settle.”
Korea, holding massive stakes in the Soviet Union, wanted Moscow to remain stable.
When even they proposed “this option,” Shelepin felt his resolve waver.
“If it’s the only way, we’ll have to try it.”
The Soviet Union’s supreme leader accepted Korea’s proposal.
Soon after, the Soviet Union launched its “war on corruption.”
The targets of the Soviet security organs were Shelepin’s conservative rivals.
“We’ve received reports of a comrade taking bribes. You’ll need to come with us.”
“W-what?”
The Soviet conservatives fell helplessly to the reformers’ surprise attack, swords drawn without warning.
Key figures in politics, connections, and the Party were hauled away without uttering a single protest.
Even conservative military personnel were no exception.
They all shared corruption charges.
“Hey, are you guys clean?”
Conservatives weren’t necessarily dirtier, nor reformers cleaner, as their defenses went.
If anything, their hands were equally soiled.
No, the more powerful reformers were far more corrupt.
Yet it was the conservatives getting rounded up.
The reason was simple.
“Corruption’s just a pretext for the purge.”
This purge could be summed up as Shelepin’s palace coup in all but name.
While striking preemptively at rivals on corruption charges, Shelepin maintained 24-hour emergency alerts in case of a counter-coup.
Just in case a military coup erupted, for immediate response.
Fortunately for the Union, the conservatives made no coup attempt.
Shelepin pinned the blame for the “nuclear accident”—which he’d roughly patched over—onto them.
“The Construction Minister took bribes? End times. No wonder accidents happen.”
Just as Shelepin scripted, people came to associate the conservatives with the nuclear mishap.
Of course, the backlash didn’t end there.
“Right. What about the General Secretary? No responsibility?”
Before the knives turned on Shelepin, Moscow countered by swiftly airing the Chernobyl drama it had rushed to produce.
“There’s a fire at the power plant? We’re on our way.”
The Chernobyl drama instantly captivated Soviet viewers.
The characters were mostly ordinary folk, yet heroes displaying courage beyond mortal limits.
Their sacrifices in their respective roles left deep impressions on audiences.
General Secretary Shelepin was portrayed as a high official making the “right decisions” amid chaos.
In any case, the drama’s message wasn’t that Shelepin bore no blame—it was that Soviet peoples had united as one against the Chernobyl crisis.
“No need to distinguish Armenians, Azerbaijanis, Russians, or any ethnicity. They all fulfilled their roles as ‘Soviet people.’ We were one.”
Soviets felt this truth anew, viscerally.
“Yeah, that’s right.”
Recalling the days when all united in crisis made nationalism seem trivial.
“We’re all Soviets—do we really have to fight over ethnic issues?”
If it were different countries, maybe, but this was within the same Soviet Union.
Rearranging administrative boundaries wasn’t that big a deal.
This shift in Soviet consciousness began cooling the flames of nationalism.
The intensity of ethnic disputes, once raging, showed signs of peaking.
Confirming these results, Korea rolled out its second measure.
“We should besmirch the nationalists’ names.”
Make supporting nationalists something to be ashamed of, draining their momentum.
Korea sent over experts from its intelligence agency.
“Start with rumors.”
From sleazy scandals.
Korea and Soviet authorities targeted nationalist leaders, branding them pedophiles or homosexuals.
“We’re not like that!”
In a dictatorial authoritarian state, the advantage was monopolizing the narrative.
“Yeah, no one’s listening.”
If scandals failed, next came co-optation.
Straight-up kidnappings, followed by advanced brainwashing techniques.
No more crude methods like before.
“Drugs are better these days, and electricity works wonders.”
Even the staunchest believers weakened under drugs, then buckled under electric shocks.
For those who wouldn’t break, other tactics.
“Just crush them with rival competitors bought off with money.”
Korea taught the KGB that against nationalists, anything went.
“True enough. Back in Secretary Stalin’s day, we just uprooted them. Why overthink these pests?”
The Soviet Union had never been a nation that cherished its citizens’ rights.
Promoting a new “Soviet” identity while suppressing nationalism proved quite effective.
Of course, this alone couldn’t crush it.
Korea’s third proposal: “support” the nationalists.
“Pardon? Support nationalists? What’s that about?”
Korea explained its intent to the KGB.
“Not all of them—just the extremists.”
Once they committed terrorist acts, flipping public opinion would be easy.
How did the Chechen nationalist movement end?
The Moscow theater siege and Beslan school hostage crisis sealed it.
Turn public opinion against them, and curbing nationalist influence was straightforward.
“Not a bad idea.”
The Soviets began secretly backing radical nationalist terror groups.
When they struck, the media hyped it up, railing against the “evils of nationalism.”
“This should suffice for basic containment.”
“No, it’s not enough.”
If you’re doing it, do it thoroughly.
That was Pyongyang’s mindset.
Pyongyang’s fourth measure: frame them.
“Once extremist nationalist groups gain notoriety, stage terror attacks in their name.”
That would deepen Soviets’ revulsion toward nationalism.
Accordingly, horrifying crimes like “white powder terror” swept the Union.
With this backdrop, many Soviets now equated nationalists first with “rabid terrorists.”
Erode support, tarnish image.
Korea’s solutions were ruthlessly calculated to dismantle nationalism.
Did that end nationalism?
Naturally not.
Nationalism wasn’t so frail as to vanish after a bout of operations.
But invest twenty years, and the story changed.
Even nationalism couldn’t stand against individualism’s era without a nation-state of its own.
“Individuals first, or community?”
Thus, Korea offered only enough “revulsion” and “image manipulation” measures to last a generation.
“No more is needed.”
As the Soviet government battled nationalism, Korea faded into the shadows.