Chapter 71
Forward Transylvania
Koloszvár
As soon as they entered the building, Ignaz Honterus and Elek Ferenc came to an abrupt halt.
“Holy—”
“Don’t blaspheme,” snapped Elek Ferenc.
Like most Szeklers, Ferenc was Roman Catholic and had a hair-trigger reaction to blasphemy and other sins. Ignaz suspected that was because a fair number of Szeklers had converted to Unitarianism and the Catholic Szeklers were exceptionally touchy on matters of religious doctrine because they viewed Unitarians as borderline freethinkers.
Ignaz, a Lutheran like almost all Saxons, was more secure in his faith. It was true that blasphemy was a sin, but he didn’t really consider it equivalent to murder or worshipping golden idols. No sensible man he knew did. Lutherans, at least.
But he said nothing. In general, he and Elek got along quite well, and he saw no point in pursuing a quarrel over this issue.
Fortunately, the awkward moment was very brief. A young woman came up and said, “May I help you?”
“We’d like to speak with Gretchen Richter,” said Ignaz.
“Is she expecting you?”
“Not exactly. We have no appointment to meet her. But we spent quite a bit of time speaking to her in Szatmár and Zilah and told her we’d be coming to Koloszvár at some point in the future, and we’d like to speak with her again.”
The woman looked uncertain for a moment, and then pointed to a bench nearby. “Wait here. I’ll go see if she’s free.”
While they waited, Ignaz looked around the interior of the buildings, examining more closely the features that had brought on his near blasphemy. He’d been startled, having expected something far more modest in the way of a headquarters for a band of political organizers.
To begin with, the room that served as the equivalent of a storefront—except the windows had all been shuttered—was huge. Ignaz wondered what sort of goods had been sold there. But now, instead of racks and shelves holding items for sale, most of the floor space was turned over to desks and what he presumed were meeting tables.
All the desks were occupied by someone busily scribbling whatever they were scribbling about. Two of the meeting tables provided a workspace for several people at each table. Ignaz wondered what they were talking about.
The walls were covered with banners and political slogans, the largest being against the far wall and reading FORWARD TRANSYLVANIA. What he found most interesting was that none of the slogans seemed aimed at anyone in particular—neither the monarchy nor the aristocracy. Instead, they were devoted to broad social and political issues, such as SUPPORT FREEDOM OF SPEECH and SUBSCRIBE TO FORWARD TRANSYLVANIA.
In short, material that would certainly annoy the monarchy and aristocracy but did not pose a direct challenge or threat. There was a shrewd mind at work here and Ignaz could only assume it was Gretchen Richter’s, even if it didn’t seem to match her reputation as a flamboyant agitator.
The young woman returned. “Follow me, please.”
Ignaz and Elek rose and trailed after her, as she led them into a corridor which ended in a flight of stairs. They took the stairs to the next floor and debouched into another corridor which led them in short order into Gretchen’s office. The office was large, holding both a desk and a chair behind it along with two padded chairs and a divan in one corner of the room that were arranged for small meetings.
Gretchen rose and came around the desk, motioning them to take seats in the corner. They both sat on the divan and she took a seat near the window, whose curtain was still drawn. Ignaz wasn’t sure, but he thought that might be a precaution against a would-be assassin.
“Welcome to Koloszvár,” she said. “What can I do for you? Would you like something to drink?”
Both men shook their heads at the offer of refreshments. After a moment’s pause, Elek said, “We were both surprised at the size and apparent breadth of your operation here. You’ve only been here, what? Two months?”
“Not quite that long,” Gretchen said. “We started off much smaller, only renting a couple of rooms in the building. But then Prince Rákóczi was struck down by an assassin’s bullet and never regained consciousness. As soon as that happened, we saw a rapid increase in people’s interest in us. And when the prince died, leaving a muddied succession, our growth became not much short of explosive. The owner of the building wanted to sell it altogether and move to Hungary. Quite a few of the shopkeepers felt the same way, although not all of them. I bought the building to give us the room we needed.”
Elek’s brow furrowed. “Where did you get the funds?”
“From my own banks in the USE and the Netherlands. Well, mine and my husband’s, but Jeff generally lets me handle our finances.”
Both men stared at her. Gretchen’s expression combined amusement and some exasperation.
“May I suggest you stop jumping to conclusions based on too little information? You came here for a reason. Why don’t you just tell me what it is?” She rose from her seat. “I’m going to get myself some tea. That will give you a bit of time to make up your jittery minds without me looking over your shoulders.”
When she got back a few minutes later, her two visitors seemed to have reached a decision. As soon as Gretchen sat down, Ignaz Honterus said, “There’s been a great deal of discussion north of here about the political situation. But none of us expected Prince Rákóczi to get himself killed. He wasn’t the sort of reckless military commander who usually suffer such a fate.”
“It’s the new engines of war,” said Gretchen. “You haven’t had time to get adjusted to them. So, the prince got slain by a rifle shot from an airship.”
Ignaz nodded. “Yes, that’s undoubtedly what happened. His death, though, gave a great boost to a viewpoint that up to that time had been espoused by only a few people.”
“What ‘people’ are we talking about?” asked Gretchen, bringing her cup to her lips and blowing on it to make it cool quicker.
“The majority are Saxons,” said the Szekler, Ferenc. “Some are native to the area. More are recent arrivals fleeing from the Wallachian conquest of the big Saxon settlements in the south of Transylvania. They feel very misused. They had to bear the brunt of the fighting and suffered most of the casualties.”
“While the Romanian and Hungarian nobility who comprise most of the big landowners and dominate the Diet stayed safely behind the walls of the capital, Gyulafehérvár,” added Ignaz.
Gretchen took a sip of her tea. “How many Székelys are participating?”
“Quite a few,” said Ignaz, “especially after Rákóczi died.”
Gretchen set down her cup. “All right. So what’s this new viewpoint? I’m pretty sure that’s what you want to ask me about.”
“Yes, but there’s another question we need to ask first. Something that we’re not clear about.”
“Puzzled by, in fact,” added Ferenc.
She took another sip of her tea. “So, ask.”
“What is the nature of your relationship to Gustavus Adolphus?” asked Ignaz. “It doesn’t seem to make a lot of sense. On the one hand, you are the preeminent revolutionary in Europe. On the other, Gustavus Adolphus holds three crowns. He’s simultaneously the emperor of the United States of Europe, the king of Sweden, and the high king of the Union of Kalmar. He’s now undoubtedly the most powerful monarch on the continent, leaving aside the sultan of the Ottoman Empire. You’d think he’d be moving heaven and earth to hang you from a gallows—just like you’d be expected to raise a revolution against him. Instead, you seem to get along quite well.”
Gretchen laughed. “And I take it you find that suspicious.”
“Well…” said Ignaz.
“Yes, we do,” said Ferenc.
Gretchen set down her cup. “My relationship with Gustav Adolf is complex. To understand it, you need to understand the impact of the Ring of Fire and the ensuing American relationship to the man. They found themselves facing a stark choice. With their military prowess, they could have created a small—very small—republic, exactly to their liking. But faced with the combined hostility of every ruler in Europe, they would have had to turn themselves into a garrison state, which is not a good medium in which to have democracy and equality flourish. As Mike Stearns put it at the time—this was back in 1632, after the Croat raid on Grantville was driven off by the Americans in alliance with a force led by Gustav Adolf—‘You can’t build America in a fortress.’
“So, he negotiated with Gustavus Adolphus and reached a compromise. The Americans would provide the Swedish king with a formidable military capacity. In exchange, he agreed to respect the liberties they were accustomed to, as well as giving them a great deal of political control. The end result wasn’t the sort of ‘constitutional monarchy’ that they’d had had in their own universe, because Gustav Adolf exercised a great deal of power, especially over foreign affairs and the military. The American scholar Melissa Mailey once told me the arrangement was much closer to the ‘constitutional monarchy’ in the eighteenth century of their universe, than that of the twentieth.”
She drained the rest of her cup and set it down on a small table next to her chair. “What was just as important to Stearns was that the arrangement gave the Americans and those down-timers who came to agree with them with far greater political elbow room than a so-called ‘pure republic’ could have provided. What resulted over the next few years was a vast expansion of freedom and justice.”
She shrugged. “It was far from perfect, but it was also far better than any possible alternative, given the realities of our time. In the early years, I myself was wary of the situation and had some major reservations about Mike Stearns. But, for me, those reservations were dispelled when Stearns brought his 3rd Division back into the USE from Bohemia, and smashed the reactionary forces that were seeking to crush the Dresden rebellion—of which I was one of the leaders. Since that time, I have come to share Stearns’ view of our political prospects. As he once said to me, ‘Don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good.’”
Ignaz and Elek looked at each other. “We’ll, as she said, it’s complex,” said Ferenc. “But I think our question is pretty well answered.”
Ignaz nodded and turned back to Gretchen. “What we were wondering…” He hesitated. “I’m not sure how to put this because I’m now on unfamiliar ground.”
“Here’s the situation you face,” said Gretchen. “Rákóczi did leave a clear heir, which is his oldest son George II. But he’s only sixteen years old so his mother would be the regent and she’s what amounts to a Calvinist fanatic. Those factors make him unacceptable to too many nobles of Transylvania, most of whom are either Romanian Orthodox or Roman Catholic.
“As a result, some noblemen are plumping for one or the other of Prince George I Rákóczi’s brothers, Pál or Zsigmond, but both of them have problems. Pál’s health is not good and Zsigmond doesn’t even live in Transylvania. He’s a Hungarian nobleman, first and foremost.”
She shook her head. “There are at least half a dozen other factions, all of them small and supporting unlikely candidates. Which means a long succession crisis for a principality that is now an enemy of Sultan Murad IV. The odds that any of them would be able to lead a successful war against the Ottomans are very low. Do you agree?”
Ignaz and Elek both nodded.
“In that case,” said Gretchen, “the most intelligent course of action is for Transylvania to join the United States of Europe as a province. That would mean you could count on the very powerful USE for protection against the Turks.”
Ferenc made a face. “But we’d be vassals again.”
“That’s nonsense. A province is not a vassal, it’s a province. Especially if you joined with a republican structure, you’d have clearly defined legal rights from the very beginning. That would spare Gustav Adolf with having to deal with often fractious aristocrats claiming some sort of princely status. And the emperor has always been meticulously proper in his dealings with republican provinces. I know. I’ve been the ruler of two of them, Saxony and Lower Silesia. And the current prime minister of the USE is the former governor of the republican State of Thuringia-Franconia.”
Ignaz and Elek looked at each other again. “That’s a very clear and succinct presentation of the political viewpoint that has been gaining a lot of adherents in the northern counties,” said Ignaz. He glanced at the door to her office. “And judging from the operation you’re running here, it’s a popular opinion in Koloszvár also.”
“Which is the largest city in Transylvania,” said Ferenc. He squinted a little at Gretchen. “But would Gustavus Adolphus agree?”
“Probably,” said Gretchen. “But that’s easy to find out. I’ll reach him by radio and ask.”
They were both back to staring at her again. She smiled and spread her hands. “As I said, my relationship with the emperor is complex.”