The Secret of Prussia

This was exactly the question that intrigued Smith.

Humans, as creatures, tend to perceive and interpret the world based on their past knowledge, experiences, and perspectives—a tendency no one can entirely escape.

From what Smith knew about Hu Linyi, even from the fragments of history he had gleaned, this "Hu Runzhi" stood out as an exemplary figure among traditional scholars. Yet, whether due to the times or personal limitations, Hu could hardly be considered a reformer with a global vision.

According to some unofficial accounts, Hu Linyi, already gravely ill, was said to have once witnessed an English steamship effortlessly gliding along the Yangtze River. The sight of smaller Chinese boats capsizing in its wake reportedly shocked and enraged him. Overwhelmed, he supposedly vomited blood on the spot, fell off his horse, and his condition quickly worsened until he passed away shortly afterward in 1861.

Whether this tale was true or not, Smith couldn't say. From the tone of the narrative, however, he suspected it was more fictional than factual. Still, that such a story was attributed to Hu Linyi rather than another figure seemed to speak volumes.

Yet Prussia was far removed from the "Heavenly Kingdom" Hu Linyi was accustomed to. Here, he would inevitably encounter many concepts and phenomena beyond his wildest imagination. What would he make of them?

Curious, Smith perked up his ears and sharpened his gaze, eager to observe how the dialogue between the two sides would unfold.

Sure enough, after some brief pleasantries, the conversation veered into a topic that piqued Smith's interest. Hu Linyi, speaking in his distinctive Hunan accent, asked:

"Your nation, established for barely 150 years, has grown from small to great, from weak to strong. Despite the defeat at Jena, you managed to turn the tide and now stand as the leader of Central Europe. What is your secret?"

Such a question was not unexpected to Smith, nor to Frederick. The tall crown prince responded with a humble smile:

"I am no historian. What I am about to share may not be an accurate conclusion but rather some personal thoughts. I hope they may be of some use to you."

"I am all ears," Hu Linyi replied.

"Some say that Prussia is an army with a state. This is indeed how many perceive our nation, and they believe this is the fundamental reason for our rise from small to great, from weak to strong. However—"

At this point, Frederick raised his voice and his right index finger in emphasis.

"In my view, this explanation puts the cart before the horse!"

He shrugged and continued, "It's true that, as many have pointed out, our geographic position is precarious, leaving us vulnerable to invasion by neighboring states. Our territory is so small that a single lost battle could bring us to the brink of destruction. To survive, we must have a strong army; we cannot afford the cost of defeat!"

Frederick's vigorous gestures and commanding presence reminded everyone present that this was not just a future monarch but also an accomplished military officer. Smith, knowing his history, understood that this adoptive father of his might very well be the greatest cavalry commander of his time.

"But," Frederick pivoted, "mere survival is not enough! If a nation lives only to survive, it is condemned to linger on the edge of death. To truly thrive, a nation must pursue something more important!"

As Frederick spoke, Smith kept a close watch on Hu Linyi's expression. By all accounts, Hu Linyi, as an experienced statesman, should have been unfazed. And indeed, his outward composure betrayed no reaction. Yet Smith, attuned to subtleties, noticed a brief constriction of Hu's pupils—a telltale sign of interest. Specifically, it was the reaction of someone who had expected platitudes but instead stumbled upon genuine insight.

Unaware of this micro-expression, Frederick pressed on:

"In my view, what's more important is freedom, equality, rule of law, education, knowledge, and technology!"

"I knew it," Smith thought to himself. Everyone knew that his adoptive father was Prussia's most prominent liberal thinker. To Smith, this was almost ironic.

Consider the paradox: a future Prussian king, currently a military officer, and one of the most powerful men in the country, was an advocate for liberalism. If that wasn't ironic, then what was?

Ironic or not, Frederick's argument held weight. At least, Smith thought so. These factors likely were the true secrets behind Prussia's rise.

Prussia's ascent, generally considered to have begun during the reign of Frederick the Great, was often attributed to his military genius. Yet people frequently overlooked his contributions to domestic policy. As a figurehead of "enlightened absolutism," Frederick the Great used autocratic methods to advance reforms deemed progressive for his time—such as freeing serfs, promoting new agricultural techniques, pursuing mercantilism, developing handicrafts and transportation, and improving the legal system.

This monarch, known for his absolutism, even dared to proclaim Voltaire's motto in official documents:

"All are equal before the law!"

Thus, through autocratic means, "enlightened absolutism" propelled Prussia toward freedom, equality, and the rule of law. Long before this, the country had already begun systematically implementing compulsory education—a groundbreaking initiative among Europe's major powers.

Although still rudimentary, this compulsory education system was undoubtedly more advanced than the widespread illiteracy plaguing other European nations. Its significance extended far beyond producing literate soldiers and officers; it equipped ordinary citizens with a knowledge system that fostered independent thought, creativity, and practical application. Over a century, this vitality accumulated, eventually transforming into the explosive momentum of the Second Industrial Revolution. But that was a story for later.

Of course, Frederick had his own liberal rhetoric for these ideas, frequently invoking Kant, Locke, Voltaire, and Adam Smith, and tossing in the occasional "democracy" for good measure. Hu Linyi, however, was clearly out of his depth, his expression a mix of bewilderment and bemusement. Even from several meters away, Smith could see his eyes glaze over as if he were listening to an alien language.

Smith knew this wasn't Frederick intentionally being cryptic; he genuinely believed in these principles. And in 1860, there was no more coherent system to explain them.

For a fleeting moment, Smith felt a pang of sympathy for Hu Linyi. The poor man seemed utterly unfamiliar with these concepts, a reflection of Khitan's ignorance and insularity. Yet, compared to the historical Qing dynasty, which stubbornly clung to isolation, the Khitan of this timeline had at least taken the initiative to venture outward. That alone was a remarkable step forward!

Although Hu Linyi couldn't fully grasp the meaning of the lengthy monologue, he maintained his diplomatic composure. When Frederick finished speaking, Hu politely responded:

"Thank you, Your Highness, for your generous insights!"

"I merely expressed my views on the matter," Frederick replied humbly. "If it proves helpful to you, it is my honor."

This was merely an intermission in their conversation. Before Frederick's voice even trailed off, Hu Linyi pressed on:

"Your Highness, you are far too modest! I have another matter to seek your counsel on. It is said that innovations like the steam engine, locomotives, and spinning machines originated in England. While steamships were not its invention, England has made the most widespread use of and the finest advancements in them. During my visit to your country, I observed that the factories here manufacture such machinery on a scale quite impressive, almost comparable to that of England. Furthermore, I heard that your nation has been producing such machinery for merely a decade or so—how, then, has it achieved such progress in so short a time?"

"Interesting. To think you'd place this question second," Smith thought to himself. Although not a humanities scholar, Smith had no trouble understanding Hu Linyi's ornate, late-19th-century vernacular. He grasped immediately what Hu was asking.

As someone with historical hindsight, Smith knew that the gap between the Celestial Empire and Western empires at the time was comprehensive. But those living in the moment, like Hu, remained oblivious. They clung to the belief that their "institutions, both civil and military, far surpass those of the West, except in firearms." It would take some time before they realized the need to "seek the tools for making such tools." As for deeper insights, those would take decades to emerge.

Now, Hu Linyi had first asked about the principles of national strength and then shifted to technological issues. This strategic line of questioning suggested a keen understanding of priorities. Even with his limited knowledge of Prussia and the Western world, Hu's ability to hone in on such key points was remarkable.

"I suppose your question is really about how our Industrial Revolution came to be?" Frederick pondered aloud.

"Hmm, the term 'Industrial Revolution' coming from your mouth—doesn't that seem a bit politically incorrect?" Smith cast a curious glance at his father after hearing him speak.

Indeed, even by 1860, the concept of the "Industrial Revolution" was already in circulation, though not yet a household term. The phrase had first appeared in Friedrich Engels' The Condition of the Working Class in England in 1844—a name that no doubt elicited gritted teeth from the Prussian authorities.

"Industrial Revolution?" Hu Linyi mulled over the term with interest.

"Exactly—'Industrial Revolution'!" Frederick continued, unfazed. "The steam engines, trains, spinning machines, and steamships you mentioned are all products of this 'Industrial Revolution'!"

"Please, do elaborate!" Hu's interest grew.

"This is the result of free trade!" Frederick began with a typical liberal preamble, though Smith knew this time, Frederick wasn't wrong.

As history textbooks often stress, the Industrial Revolution dramatically advanced productivity, enabling humanity to produce goods at an unprecedented rate and bringing immense profits to capitalist nations. In its early stages, Britain—a capitalist pioneer—was highly protective of its innovations. Laws were passed to prohibit the export of machines like steam engines and spinning jennies, restrict foreign access to such machinery, and even forbid technical drawings and detailed descriptions of these inventions in publications. This level of secrecy was akin to Japan's obsessive wartime confidentiality.

But the secret could not be kept indefinitely. Other European countries soon became aware of Britain's extraordinary machines, leading to the rise of "industrial espionage." Among the nations that sent out the most industrial spies were Prussia and France.

Prussian industrial spies managed to obtain blueprints and even functioning models of many British machines, including the spinning jenny. Efforts to reverse-engineer these machines were already underway during the era when British exports were still restricted.

However, industrial espionage alone could only achieve so much. The real breakthrough for Prussia's industrial revolution came when Britain lifted its export restrictions on machinery in the 1840s. The British had realized that exporting machines was even more profitable. And since one hallmark of industrial mass production was the ability to use machines to make more machines, why shouldn't machines themselves become a marketable commodity?

Thus, Britain's commitment to "free trade" inadvertently helped Prussia launch its own Industrial Revolution. By this logic, surely Khitan could replicate such a feat...

...Right?