Chapter 22

This deceitful maneuver is neither novel nor surprising; its execution feels disconcertingly familiar. Three years prior, *Corriere della Sera*, Italy's leading newspaper, revealed a similar scheme orchestrated by Dutch intelligence. An anonymous source divulged a planned British assault on Bergen, Norway's vital port city. The report detailed a clandestine naval base, secretly constructed under the guise of a commercial venture, and jointly utilized by the Royal Navy and local civilians. This revelation prompted Rudian [presumably a nation or leader] to issue a strongly worded diplomatic protest to Britain. As the situation escalated, Rudian even went so far as to summon the British ambassador, narrowly averting a complete rupture of diplomatic ties. The ensuing diplomatic chaos left British officials scrambling. Only after vehement assurances of non-aggression did Sweden's King Carl XV relent. Yet, the incident left a lasting scar on Anglo-Rudian relations. Rudian subsequently intensified scrutiny of British activities, particularly in Norwegian maritime trade, effectively thwarting Britain's attempt to leverage Norway against Rudian's regional dominance. Ultimately, Viscount Palmerston himself was compelled to journey to Sweden to defuse the crisis. He, along with Foreign Secretary Russell and other high-ranking British officials, engaged in a frantic diplomatic campaign in Stockholm. This culminated in the cessation of a British plan to flood the European market with ironclad warships – a move designed to pressure other nations into resuming iron ore and coke exports to Britain. This intense pressure ultimately secured a trade agreement. The British government's denials regarding alleged naval base expansion rang hollow amidst a maelstrom of leaked intelligence.

Their claim of inactivity, delivered by Foreign Secretary Russell to the *Financial Times*, was met with immediate skepticism. The assertion – that no construction was underway – felt deliberately ambiguous, hinting at future plans veiled behind diplomatic obfuscation. Leiden University's Professor Hermann van Peron, his voice sharp with disdain, lambasted this carefully crafted evasion, branding it the hallmark of British duplicity, echoing previous deceitful maneuvering over Belgian territorial claims. The ensuing verbal conflict intensified on February 2nd, 1862. The Dutch foreign office publicly accused Britain of plotting naval installations across Belgium, Denmark, and Portugal; a charge swiftly rebutted by the British ambassador. Simultaneously, Parisian high society, via numerous media outlets, leaked purported knowledge of a clandestine pact with Italy, granting the British Empire access to Italian ports as strategic military staging areas. Both the British and Italian governments vehemently rejected these allegations. However, the French government, expressing profound displeasure, condemned the *potential* agreement, citing the Mediterranean's limited space and asserting France's inherent right to safeguard its maritime interests and retaliate against any perceived threats.

This news ignited a furious public response; five million French citizens—a staggering fifteen percent of the population—protested against British expansionism in the Mediterranean, with one million demonstrating in Paris alone. The atmosphere crackled with tension; the whispers of impending conflict were deafening.A wave of unprecedented protests, seemingly spontaneous yet undeniably synchronized, erupted across Europe. From the Iberian Peninsula to the Scandinavian kingdoms, encompassing the German Confederation and the Low Countries, demonstrations against British imperial dominance surged. Initially, the ruling elites dismissed these uprisings as isolated incidents, fueled by anxieties easily manipulated by anti-British sentiment. They condescendingly scoffed at the anxieties of their own people, their embarrassment palpable. Even the Parisian high society buzzed with dismissive chatter. "Worried? Nonsense," a typical elite sneered. "London to the Mediterranean? A mere inconvenience. A trifling expedition." Another echoed, "The Netherlands? Belgium? The distances are negligible. A day's march for the British army. A few hundred kilometers hardly deter them." Yet, the protests metastasized into a continent-wide phenomenon, drawing tens of millions.

This explosive, pan-European mobilization shattered the elites' complacent narrative of self-generated unrest. Their initial assumptions crumbled; the collective voice, they discovered, held a power far surpassing individual anxieties. The adage proved true: rumors amplified become reality; the consensus of many becomes undeniable truth. Did these elites not grasp this fundamental principle? Evidently, they did. But some, clinging to power, chose willful ignorance. Reporter Yard, the *Le Monde*'s seasoned European affairs correspondent, possessed unmatched insight. His extensive travels – from Norway and the Netherlands to a remote Indian Ocean island, including military service in Mauritius – provided a uniquely comprehensive perspective on the burgeoning tide of discontent.Despite his intimate familiarity with European politics, he proceeded to author a series of inflammatory articles. These pieces, unexpectedly, achieved remarkable success, far surpassing the impact of his previous writings and igniting a firestorm beyond his publishers' expectations. His formula, apparently unchanged, relied on positioning himself against France—a surefire path to maximizing sales in Paris, leveraging his established brand as a critic of "The British Empire's Menace." The content itself, however, remained impeccably respectable.

To solidify its position, France dispatched a high-level delegation of diplomats and military officials to Belgium, issuing a pointed ultimatum: Belgium must reject British overtures for military basing rights. The French delegation delivered a stark warning, asserting that any such action would compromise regional security, triggering a potentially catastrophic domino effect. The efficacy of this forceful French démarche remains uncertain, even among the French themselves. Nevertheless, Parisian whispers suggest that Versailles anticipates a sustained, long-term campaign to counter British influence in Belgium. Belgium's diminutive coastline, the shortest in Western Europe, belies its strategic significance. Its geopolitical location compels intense scrutiny from France, the Netherlands, and the United Kingdom. As a Dutch academic recently observed, the British Empire has historically viewed the Atlantic as its exclusive domain, rendering it hypersensitive to any encroachment. Furthermore, both France and the Netherlands are longstanding geopolitical rivals of Britain, ensuring that their activities are meticulously monitored, interpreted, exaggerated, and exploited for propaganda purposes by the British. From Portugal to Norway, Denmark to Belgium, Britain's maritime surveillance resembles a tightly woven net. Large-scale naval deployments by any European power are virtually impossible to conceal.

The anti-British sentiment fueling this campaign requires continual reinforcement through the amplification of such incidents. The objective is to solidify anti-British consensus, garner political advantage, and generate substantial financial gain.The British Empire's strategically chosen coastal ports, spanning from Southern to Northern Europe, were previously perceived as vulnerabilities, areas deemed too sensitive to directly challenge for fear of provoking widespread outrage. While past incursions were minimal, they still fueled anxieties amongst rival powers. However, the dramatic escalation of other nations' naval capabilities transformed these ports into undeniable weaknesses, triggering a frantic, defensive response from a panicking Empire. Belgium emerged as the Empire's initial target, raising unsettling questions about the Empire's potential evolution into a land-based threat, a fearsome continental power. Experts, intimately familiar with the Empire's limitations, doubted the feasibility of a comprehensive assault on entrenched Franco-Dutch influence within Belgium. The demographic reality – a populace largely composed of Franco-Dutch descent – represented a formidable obstacle for the British. The Empire's strategy, pivoting around naval bases as a foothold for military expansion into Belgium, appeared profoundly unrealistic. The substantial and intertwined interests of France and the Netherlands provided ample justification for their protective actions. Despite the nominal British presence under Leopold I, the underlying allegiance of the Belgian population remained firmly rooted in their ancestral homelands. Thirty years later, this enduring sentiment ignited yet another, and far more calamitous, crisis in Belgium.

On February 4th, 1862, a momentous pact emerged from the heart of Southern Belgium. A coalition of disparate forces— encompassing the French-speaking regions of Hainaut and Namur, the northern provinces of Antwerp and Limburg, and the German-speaking enclaves of Verviers and Malmedy near Liège—forged a formidable alliance. Fueled by a shared resentment of Belgium's pro-British stance, these factions vehemently rejected any British military presence on Belgian soil, pledging mutual defense and offense against both the Belgian government and the reign of Leopold I. This audacious challenge resonated powerfully. The British Empire swiftly denounced this tripartite agreement with forceful condemnation, urging international isolation. Leopold I, in response, offered dialogue, but insisted on unconditional talks to safeguard Belgian territorial integrity. Unexpectedly, however, the Netherlands unexpectedly took center stage, its influence compelling both France and Prussia to acquiesce. The Netherlands' decisive role sparked a profound reassessment. The previously underestimated nation's assertive posture initiated a reevaluation of its European standing, igniting speculation of a potential Dutch resurgence after a century of relative quietude.