Chapter 5

January 11, 1862, at exactly 18:00.

Kingdom of Prussia, Berlin, Prime Minister's Residence.

Newly appointed Prussian Prime Minister Otto von Bismarck, barely a month into his tenure, was immersed in clandestine strategizing. A cabal of powerful Prussian figures, including Mao Qi and the War Minister von Byrne, were feverishly devising a master plan – a bold gambit to catapult Prussia onto the European stage. Their ambition was audacious: to seize a place amongst the continent's dominant powers, defying Prussia's comparatively late entry into the great game of geopolitical influence. Bismarck and his inner circle were convinced that strategic brilliance could overcome historical disadvantage; they would engineer Prussia's meteoric rise. The marathon session concluded at five o'clock, leaving Bismarck utterly drained. He finally reached his office before six, only to be jolted from his much-needed respite. An unwelcome interruption shattered the peace. The unexpected visitor forced Bismarck to shed his prime ministerial mantle and reassume the mantle of seasoned diplomat, a role that demanded his acutely honed instincts and tactical prowess. This unannounced guest was Nicholas Pearson, the strikingly youthful Netherlands ambassador – a mere twenty-seven years old, two decades Bismarck's junior. Bismarck initially anticipated a routine diplomatic courtesy call, a discussion of bilateral relations. Instead, Pearson sought Bismarck's counsel on international affairs, a request that raised Bismarck's eyebrows. Their conversation revealed the young diplomat's cynical worldview, expressed with unsettling candor: "Born on April Fool's Day, I've witnessed a lifetime of global deception, a world where mendacity reigns supreme. And I, ironically, have chosen a career in diplomacy."

A proverb holds that silence is golden in diplomacy, taciturnity silver, and loquacity dross. Yet, Talleyrand, the master of French statecraft, famously asserted that the tongue's true purpose is to mask one's intentions. He could, it is said, discourse for hours with impeccable logic and structure, ultimately revealing nothing. Thus, I humbly beseech you, esteemed Chancellor Bismarck, my revered predecessor in the diplomatic arts, to impart your wisdom to a nascent student. Bismarck, inwardly astonished by the young Dutch diplomat's audacity and perceptiveness, concealed his surprise. He hadn't anticipated such a mind within the Netherlands. This youth, he mused, may not conquer the world, but he'll certainly navigate its treacherous currents with cunning. The Netherlands, he reflected, is fortunate to possess such talent. Initially irked by the interruption, Bismarck found himself captivated by the young envoy's insightful query. His professional instincts, long dormant, re-ignited. Dismissing the notion of a curt response, he launched into a considered answer. The answer flowed effortlessly, a testament to his years of experience. "What *is* diplomacy, Mr. Pearson? I cannot definitively answer. If a science, it lacks an established academy. If an art, its muse remains elusive, favoring only the truly gifted. To label diplomacy deception is sacrilegious, yet charlatans undeniably infest our profession." Nicholas Pearson, himself a seasoned diplomat, erupted in admiration. "Magnificent! A truly masterful response. Even Lord Palmerston, the British lion, could not have articulated it better!" Bismarck, despite years of cultivating emotional impassivity, felt a surge of pride at the young diplomat's effusive praise. His carefully concealed vanity, long suppressed, momentarily surfaced.

Lord Palmerston, the esteemed Prime Minister of the British Empire, Henry John Temple, commanded immense respect within global diplomacy. Bismarck, a man whose ambition knew few bounds, confessed admiration for only one and a half individuals; half of that singular esteem belonged to the late Clemens von Metternich, the Austrian Chancellor. Metternich, a pivotal figure in European politics, served as Austrian envoy to Saxony, Prussia, and France from 1801. By 1809, he ascended to the position of Austrian Foreign Minister. In this capacity, he masterminded the Holy Alliance, a formidable coalition of Austria, Britain, Russia, Sweden, and the German Confederation, instrumental in the defeat of Napoleon Bonaparte. His leadership further shaped the post-Napoleonic world, culminating in the momentous Congress of Vienna in 1815. This landmark gathering, unprecedented in modern history, brought together countless dignitaries from across Europe for a six-month summit in the Austrian capital. In 1821, Metternich's influence expanded, adding the title of Austrian Chancellor to his already considerable authority. He became the linchpin of the Holy Alliance and the Anglo-Russian entente, personally orchestrating a powerful quartet of nations that dominated European affairs for decades. A staunch opponent of nationalism, liberalism, and revolutionary fervor, Metternich established the Metternich System (or Vienna System), a framework based on conservative principles and a precarious balance of power among the great nations. This meticulously constructed order endured for over three decades until the Crimean War (1853-1856) between Russia and Britain shattered the alliance and irrevocably dismantled Metternich's carefully engineered European dominance.

By 1851, Metternich had already withdrawn from the political stage, remaining a recluse until his demise in 1859. Bismarck, however, revered Metternich, particularly his masterful equilibrium diplomacy—a model Bismarck meticulously emulated in his own Prussian ascendance. His strategy mirrored Metternich's: cultivating a close relationship with Imperial Russia, notably through Princess Charlotte, sister of William I and mother of Alexander II, while simultaneously appeasing Austria. This shrewd maneuvering allowed Prussia and Austria to engage in a subtle, competitive struggle for dominance within the German Confederation, all while masking Prussia's growing strength from a wary France under Napoleon III. This calculated ambiguity minimized Prussian threats in the eyes of rival nations, encouraging them to exhaust themselves in internecine conflicts. Further solidifying Prussia's position, Prince Frederick's marriage to Queen Victoria's eldest daughter, Princess Victoria, in 1858, forged a powerful Anglo-Prussian alliance. This strategic marital union cemented Prussia's international standing, rendering it simultaneously influential and seemingly innocuous. Bismarck's diplomatic finesse, however, differed significantly from Metternich's. While both employed a balance-of-power approach, Bismarck's was self-serving, meticulously calculated to benefit Prussia above all else, a stark contrast to the broader continental equilibrium sought by Metternich, even extending to the strategic manipulation of Britain—a power Metternich's Vienna system had ultimately served. This calculated risk-taking laid the groundwork for Prussia's future dominance.

Bismarck regarded Pearson with knowing eyes. The UK's machinations regarding Belgium were transparent: they'd simultaneously championed its allocation to the Netherlands while simultaneously acquiring lucrative overseas territories – Ceylon and the Cape of Good Hope – from the very same nation. Belgium's 1830 secession, orchestrated with British backing and featuring Leopold I, Queen Victoria's uncle, as its king, was a resounding slap in the face for the Netherlands. He doubted the Dutch populace's apathy, or the Orange-Nassau dynasty's meek acceptance of this affront. This young diplomat's presence, however, offered Bismarck crucial context. Pearson's youth was telling; unlike the intransigence of William I, the irrelevance of William II, or the avoidance tactics of William III, William IV displayed a resolute unwillingness to yield. Bismarck's calculations yielded a decisive conclusion. Concurrently, Pearson's mind was equally active. King William IV had previously enlightened him on the complexities of power-balancing diplomacy – a prevalent, even dominant, strategy among Europe's elite diplomats. This approach, employed by hegemonic powers, reflects the inherent asymmetries in the power dynamics between rival entities or coalitions. Its genesis lies in the competitive landscape of 16th-century European democracies vying for continental and maritime supremacy, making it a quintessential product of capitalist systems. The British Empire pioneered this methodology. Early in the 16th century, Wolsey, the British Prime Minister, initially backed Spain against France; however, upon witnessing Spain's burgeoning dominance, Britain astutely shifted its allegiance to France. This calculated maneuver allowed Britain to reap the benefits of a protracted conflict, watching as its rivals bled themselves dry.

Eighteenth-century France actively employed a strategy of equilibrium in the four Anglo-Dutch conflicts. This approach to international relations found its most potent exponents in the nineteenth century with Austria's Metternich and Prussia's Bismarck. Metternich, championing a robust Central European bloc, skillfully leveraged the British Empire to counterbalance Prussian ambitions while maintaining a calculated distance from Russia. His overarching aim: securing Austria's dominance in Central Europe, solidifying its preeminent position among the great powers in the era surrounding the Congress of Vienna. Bismarck, inheriting Metternich's mantle, continued this delicate dance of power. To isolate France and avert potential conflict, he masterfully forged a formidable alliance encompassing Prussia, Russia, and Austria. However, this pursuit of equilibrium was not devoid of self-interest. The inherent asymmetry of such a system—where the strong dictate terms and the weak serve as pawns—was exploited ruthlessly by Bismarck. His calculated machinations, as the Prussian King well understood, ultimately served Prussian ambitions, primarily focusing on the acquisition of Northern Denmark. This current overture to the Netherlands aims to extract favorable concessions, though the cost will not be exorbitant.