Hate Speech (Part 1)
As soon as the gunshot wound in my shoulder healed, I rushed back to Vienna as if I were running a time attack. In a world where morphine was the only available painkiller, my shoulder still throbbed. The searing pain kept me from getting a decent night's sleep. And no matter how much penicillin I pumped into myself, it never felt like enough. Still, the world was on the cusp of change.
'The silver lining of getting shot is that things are turning out even more in my favor.'
It was supposed to be a staged attack just to temporarily dampen the extremists' momentum. But thanks to some brainless idiot who decided to spray actual bullets, my little charade landed a critical hit.
"My dear Shtal. I knew it was a staged stunt, of course. But do try to be more careful next time."
"...It wasn't staged."
"You can tell the truth to me, at least. Risking your life to sacrifice yourself just when the crowd's fervor reached its peak... you're practically a Christ figure. Besides, this will completely silence any rumors of it being a setup."
"I suppose so. Because it wasn't a setup."
"Haha! Right, right. I understand. We'll pretend it wasn't staged."
"I'm telling you, it wasn't!"
If there was one side effect, it was that absolutely no one around me believed I had actually been shot—including Dr. Sigmund Freud, who had been my partner in mischief since my youth.
I'm hurting, damn it! Show some empathy!
"You chose the bullet, now suck it up and deal with it!" Hearing that kind of response made my shoulder throb even worse, and a wave of sheer frustration washed over me.
...Well, thinking about it, I did bring this on myself. I overestimated the intelligence of those radicals. In any case, the moment I arrived in Vienna, I went straight to an audience with the Emperor.
"Shtal. You have arrived? Seeing the Russian diplomats groveling before ours was truly a sight to behold."
"I am glad it went well."
"More importantly, I received the report from the state police. From using a fake bomb to utilizing live ammunition... the timing was absolutely flawless. To think you could control even an assassination attempt."
"..."
Son of a... Even the Kaiser, who usually had an impeccable eye for reading people, refused to believe that the shooting wasn't part of my plan. Sigh.
"It is time to initiate our next move."
"Oh?"
"Since they overplayed their hand, the Russian Empire will remain quiet for the time being. And public sentiment in Bosnia has never been more favorable toward us."
"And so?"
"We must annex Bosnia."
I had no idea what the Emperor had been thinking thirty years ago, but Bosnia had always been the empire's Achilles' heel. Leaving it as a de facto semi-colony was stirring up dangerous unrest among the Bosnian populace. Yet, without official sovereignty and administrative authority, it was nearly impossible to address the region's deep-seated issues.
On the flip side, what if we annexed it? The surrounding rival nations would immediately fly into a frenzy. It was a classic catch-22.
In my original history, the Kaiser had eventually solved this by simply annexing Bosnia out of the blue, and the resulting Bosnian Crisis led directly to the outbreak of World War I. But now, it was entirely feasible.
Setting aside Serbia, which was always unhinged, the Russian Empire had blindly poured funds into a venture that ended up as an embarrassing, cringeworthy disaster. If the Russian Empire kept its temper in check, Serbia would have no choice but to tone down its tantrums as well. Furthermore, as luck would have it, we had completely eradicated the Bosnian nationalist factions.
"Indeed. If we do not strike now, it will become an incredibly difficult task later. Bring it to the parliament for discussion."
In any case, I had secured the Kaiser's permission. By mobilizing the ruling party and the Social Democratic Workers' Party—the largest party in parliament—we would be able to push through the annexation of Bosnia as quickly as possible.
The Mayor of Vienna, Karl Lueger, was now a decrepit politician well past his sixties. Although universal suffrage reform had swept through the Imperial Parliament, the local municipal councils—and the Viennese mayoral office indirectly elected by them—had somehow managed to slip through the cracks of progress. Through a desperate consolidation of conservative forces, Karl Lueger barely clung to his mayoral seat.
"...In the end, the Imperial Parliament has fallen into the hands of those vile, filthy Jewish rats. Is there truly, truly no hope left for this empire? Is there no hope left for the German race?!"
Karl Lueger wept and wailed daily as he read the news about Shtal. In the original timeline, Lueger's Christian Social Party would have remained the largest party in parliament from the introduction of universal suffrage all the way through the end of World War I. But now, the Christian Social Party had degenerated into nothing more than a fringe cult of anti-Semitic German supremacists in Vienna.
Overwhelming despair bred depression, and depression fueled severe paranoia. In the past, even while spewing his mad, anti-Semitic rhetoric, Karl Lueger had never entirely abandoned his dreams of reform. But now, old and withered, Lueger had forgotten all his grand ambitions. His sole remaining purpose in life was to drag Shtal down by any means necessary.
Today was no different; Karl Lueger was busy pouring vitriol against Shtal into the press.
Naturally, launching such absurd (?) slander against Shtal, who enjoyed overwhelming support in Vienna, backfired. Lueger, whose reputation among the working class was already abysmal, was pelted with jeers and insults once again.
"Boooooo!"
"We're sick of your anti-Semitism!"
"Lueger is nothing but a senile old fossil now."
"Seriously. We need to reform the municipal council elections as soon as possible."
It was hardly surprising anymore.
And then.
"What?! That bastard Shtal is pushing for the annexation of Bosnia?!"
All of Karl Lueger's political attacks had run aground. After all, they were playing in entirely different leagues. What else could he expect? But a monumental issue like the annexation of Bosnia seemed like the perfect opportunity to trip Shtal up.
"...I am old now. It is time for one final stand to drag that bastard Shtal down with me."
Under normal circumstances, any rational German nationalist would have lauded Shtal and the Kaiser's annexation of Bosnia. Was it not the glorious moment when the Slavic savages of Bosnia were finally brought under the wing of the great German Empire? Had Lueger's mind been even slightly more intact, he would have applauded and cheered the Kaiser's triumph. But to Karl Lueger, who had nothing left but bitter ugliness, such logic did not matter. Lueger acted immediately.
Had that madman Lueger finally gone completely senile? Karl Lueger, who clung to the Viennese mayoral seat solely on the platform of opposing the Social Democratic Workers' Party, suddenly snapped and began exhibiting bizarre behavior.
"Though Shtal is a Jew, we cannot view him merely as a wicked and despicable Jew!"
"...?"
"Weren't you calling him the Antichrist just three days ago?!"
Lueger suddenly began singing my praises as if possessed by some strange spirit. I watched the spectacle with utter bewilderment. What did he stand to gain from this? Why on earth was he doing it?
"Shtal is an honorary German! Even if his former surname was Spielberg, he is a man who would not hesitate to spit upon a Jewish sanctuary!"
What in the actual hell is he talking about?!
I had suddenly been branded a religious bigot, but because Lueger's antics were incomprehensible to his opponents and supporters alike, I dismissed it as nonsense. Lueger had absolutely nothing to gain from this. I didn't recall the exact year of his death, but the man was bound to lose his mayoral seat sooner rather than later.
But when the time came to annex Bosnia, Lueger finally threw a massive bucket of filth over my annexation bill.
"Here is the proof that Shtal is an honorary German!"
"He has subjugated and enlightened the primitive Slavic monkeys of Bosnia, finally bringing them into the German embrace!"
"We Germans have found another sanctuary! However, may I propose an additional measure for Shtal's sake? We must expel every single one of those subhuman gorilla apes from the lands of Bosnia and turn it into a vast new living space for the German people!"
— Then what about the Bosnian people...?
"We shall make them our slaves."
The parliament and the public were utterly dumbfounded by this unimaginable tirade. Was that thing actually human? Truly? Karl Lueger was the real monkey gorilla. No, even calling him a gorilla ape was an insult to apes. Karl Lueger was the true Antichrist, Satan, Lucifer, a venomous serpent. Not just me, but everyone watching Lueger's rampage must have been thinking the exact same thing.
"Chairman Shtal! We have to do something about this bastard Lueger!"
This was an era where the Ku Klux Klan ran rampant across the Atlantic, and raw, unadulterated discrimination against Asians was commonplace even here in Europe. Even so, his hate speech had crossed all boundaries of decency, throwing the parliament into an absolute uproar.
"...Let's just bury it. If we bother to refute him, we'll only be feeding the troll."
"You want us to just leave that piece of trash alone?"
"Of course, we must deal with him quietly behind the scenes, but we must not let this become a public debate."
"Why is that?"
"I dread to think what will happen if this reaches His Majesty's ears."
Viktor Adler understood immediately at the mention of the Kaiser. The Kaiser was a man who, like a seasoned 21st-century politician, knew exactly how to spin a pretext to achieve his goals. He might seize this opportunity to drastically restrict freedom of speech and assembly under the guise of maintaining order, or it could lead to severe diplomatic repercussions.
"Sigh... Chairman Shtal. But surely we cannot just let that bastard run wild?"
"..."
Viktor Adler and I let out a collective sigh. That son of a bitch had managed to deal a rather painful blow this time. But.
"Let him be."
"What?!"
"We must never attack or refute his statements, which would only repeat and amplify his words."
"Will that really be alright?"
"Yes. Just... leave him be. In fact, let's encourage him. The more he runs wild, the tighter the noose around his own neck will become."
A single shock might feel satisfying to his base. Having tasted power and popularity again after so long, Lueger would lose his mind and escalate his rhetoric to even more extreme heights. In the end, he would be abandoned by his own supporters and ousted from the mayor's office.
"It's only a matter of time before he falls. Even the conservative aristocrats and capitalists only voted for him to oppose our party. Do you think his backers will tolerate this indefinitely?"
"Indeed. It is a grim reality, but that is the best course of action."
"Of course. But then again, one can never truly predict how the world turns, can they?"
Just as Shtal predicted, Karl Lueger grew more unhinged by the day. After all, he was scratching the exact itch of the German nationalists.
"Bwahaha! Mayor Lueger is absolutely right! Perhaps that bastard Shtal is quite the figure after all!"
"Long live the German race! Austria belongs to the Germans!"
Of course, the Imperial Parliament—and even Lueger's own party—remained completely silent regarding his outrageous remarks. When diplomatic protests arrived, they did nothing but let out heavy sighs and deny any association with him. And then.
Having reclaimed his long-lost popularity after years in the wilderness, Karl Lueger naturally began to spiral out of control.
"We must [censored] the [censored] of the Muslims and..."
— What?
"Just like the Vikings, we must [censored] the [censored] of the Slavs and then [censored] them!"
"Is he out of his mind?!"
Karl Lueger spewed vitriol so extreme that even his own supporters began to recoil in disgust. Of course, one could not deny that outrageous rhetoric sometimes worked. But such rhetoric required results to back it up. For Karl Lueger, who was treated like a ghost in parliament, there was absolutely nothing he could achieve.
Without the miraculous feat of reviving an economy shattered by a Great Depression, hyperinflation, and military defeat—or, say, conquering an enemy capital in six weeks—such hate speech was ultimately a flash in the pan. In the end, Lueger's expulsion from politics was a foregone conclusion.
Karl Lueger was by no means a stupid man. He was a commoner who had fought the established elite decades before Shtal and had risen to become the Mayor of Vienna. Both his supporters and his political enemies looked on in bewilderment at how far such a formidable figure had fallen.
But. Perhaps Karl Lueger had known his own end all along. The fate of a demagogue was, after all, entirely predictable. In any case, Shtal had assumed this would pass as a mere bizarre episode. But Karl Lueger's hate speech was about to alter the course of European history forever.