novelSusiti Chapter 277 Ceding Territory, Paying Indemnities, and Achieving Autonomy?
Chapter 277 Ceding Territory, Paying Indemnities, and Achieving Autonomy?
Chapter 277 Ceding Territory, Paying Indemnities, and Achieving Autonomy?
After the Marquess of Salisbury finished speaking, the entire meeting room fell silent, not even the sound of breathing could be heard.
He did not give anyone a chance to ask questions or start a discussion.
He simply made a slight gesture to his assistant behind him.
Two young officials in black tailcoats emerged from the shadows immediately. Their movements were precise and mechanical, like two well-functioning machines. Carrying stacks of documents, they moved silently along the horseshoe-shaped table, placing the documents one by one in front of each national delegation.
The paper was of high quality, and the French text was printed clearly.
This was the peace plan "suggested" by the British Empire for this conference.
Count Andreas put on his monocle and leaned down. His body stiffened abruptly when his gaze fell on the terms on the paper.
Mr. Kofinas picked up the document, and after reading only the first line, his expression changed.
Venizelos opened the document, his gaze sharp as he quickly scanned every word. His expression remained unchanged, but the knuckles of his fingers, gripping the edge of the paper, turned white with tension.
The contents of the document were like a bucket of dirty water mixed with ice crystals, poured over the hearts of every Greek.
The core content of the plan consists of three points.
The Marquess of Salisbury's assistant read it aloud in a flat, emotionless tone, as if he were reading a weather forecast.
"First, regarding the issue of territorial ownership. In order to respect the complexity of history and reality and to ensure the long-term stability of the region, Greek troops should withdraw from all newly occupied territories north of Alta and Preveza in the Epirus region within thirty days."
The Kingdom of Greece will retain sovereignty over Ioannina and its surrounding territory.
"Regarding Crete. Given the unique composition of its inhabitants and its strategic location in the Mediterranean, it is recommended that Crete be established as a highly autonomous state," with its administration and security jointly overseen by the British Empire, the French Republic, the Russian Empire, the Austro-Hungarian Empire, and the Kingdom of Italy.
The first article has been read.
Count Andreas' monocle fell onto the table with a "thud".
This means that the vast tracts of land in Epirus, which the Greek soldiers had won with mountains of corpses and seas of blood, would all have to be given back, except for the isolated city of Ioannina.
Crete, the jewel that generations of Greeks had dreamed of, fell into the iron cage of the great powers after nominally breaking away from the Ottoman Empire!
Greece gained nothing!
The reading is still ongoing.
"Secondly, regarding the issue of post-war compensation. Given that the military actions taken by the Kingdom of Greece have effectively disrupted the existing order in the Balkans, caused irreparable damage to the Ottoman Empire's economy and multi-ethnic communities, and triggered a massive humanitarian catastrophe, it is recommended that the Kingdom of Greece pay the Ottoman Empire a peace compensation of four million Turkish lira," to make up for its losses and to be used for the resettlement of displaced people.
Four million!
This number struck like a heavy blow to the hearts of every member of the Greek delegation.
This sum of money was enough to cause the already heavily indebted Greek government to declare complete bankruptcy the very next day!
This is hardly compensation.
This is going to kill Greece!
"Third, regarding the issue of regional military balance. To ensure lasting peace in the Aegean Sea and absolute freedom of international shipping."
The size of the Greek Navy will be limited. It will be prohibited from building or purchasing new armored cruisers with a displacement exceeding 5,000 tons from other countries for the next decade. Simultaneously, key strategic islands in the Aegean Sea, such as Lemnos and Chios, will be occupied by an international joint fleet composed of major powers to ensure unimpeded navigation in the Dardanelles Strait.
This last one was the final straw that broke the camel's back.
Limit the navy!
Jointly managed islands!
This is an attempt to completely sever Greece's limbs reaching into the sea, locking this naturally maritime nation back into the barren mountains at the southern tip of the Balkan Peninsula!
When the announcer finished reading the last word, closed the document, and retreated into the shadows, a deathly silence fell over the entire Greek delegation's seats.
Mr. Kofinas's face was as pale as the document itself.
Several young attendants, their hands braced against the table, were panting heavily, as if they were drowning.
Count Andreas's hands trembled violently beneath the table. He looked at Constantine, his lips moving, his eyes filled with despair and pleading, but he couldn't utter a single word.
Lost.
We've lost completely.
At the negotiating table in London, they lost everything they had won on the battlefield of Thessaly, and even more.
This is not a negotiation at all.
This was a blatant and open plunder of another victor, orchestrated by the victor.
Inside the conference hall, representatives from other countries displayed a variety of expressions.
The Russian ambassador's face showed undisguised disappointment and anger. This move by the British had completely dashed his hopes of getting his hands on the Strait.
The German ambassador remained unmoved, as if none of this concerned him.
The French ambassador wore an awkward, reluctant expression, but he said nothing.
Only the Ottoman delegation diagonally opposite. The young advisor, Ahmed Riza, adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, a cold, vengeful glint flashing in his eyes behind the lenses.
The Marquess of Salisbury watched all this with satisfaction.
He looked at the faces of the Greek delegation, each one etched with despair, as if admiring his own masterpiece.
He cleared his throat and, in an almost condescending tone, like an elder lecturing a junior, gave his final summary of the lightning-fast massacre.
"Gentlemen, I must reiterate. This plan is designed to ensure lasting and stable peace in the Balkans and throughout Europe. It is not a punishment for any party."
All eyes eventually converged on the same point.
Constantine.
They wanted to see him angry, to see him roar, to see him lose his temper.
They wanted to see how this fierce young lion on the battlefield would collapse and howl under immense political pressure.
Constantine did not look at the Marquess of Salisbury, nor at his ashen-faced companions.
His gaze calmly fell upon the document in front of him, which was filled with harsh terms.
He stretched out his right hand, and with the tip of his index finger, he tapped gently, rhythmically, one tap at a time, on the smooth tabletop.
"knock."
"knock.
""
"knock.
""
The sound wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the deathly silent conference hall.
He seemed to be thinking.
It's as if they're waiting.
He was waiting for a signal that only he knew.