The Cog and the Wreath

[Serbovia]

PROLOGUE

"The failure of the Revolution of 1907 did not come about due to any lack of Revolutionary calling among the repressed working classes and the peasantry of our country, for I am certain that each and every one of them would've been willing to throw themselves in front of the Monarchist cannons and bayonets had we then done the necessary, sounding the battle horn of the disenfranchised and raised the Militias of the Workers and the Peasants in the name of justice and liberation.

Instead, we mistakenly allied ourselves with those nominally in favor of liberation of the oppressed masses of our country but too effete in their belief in the concepts of legitimacy and peaceful revolution - the Social-Democrats - and the liberal bourgeoise who from the starting point couldn't have cared less about our struggle. We allowed an alliance of convenience to seize hold of our Revolution and pervert its course, and we lacked the willingness to undertake the necessary in the name of a new, better society.

The degeneration of our objectives in 1907 is an undisputable historical fact. From now on, we must incorporate these lessons into our political program to the fullest. A Socialist revolution cannot occur in the context of parliamentarism. The proletariat can never be truly empowered in a system of bourgeoise democracy. Though a bourgeoise democracy might nominally be free of political repression and permit us a representation in an elected legislature, the structures of economic and social repression continue to exist and can never be truly reformed in a parliamentary context.

Thus, the only solution is a violent revolution perpetrated by the repressed masses, and the absolute eradication of the structures of repression. Propaganda of the deed is the highest duty of every proletarian."
- Juhana Koivisto, On the Class Struggle in Fennia, published underground circa 1916 by Social-Revolutionary agitators, republished officially in print by the Fennian Social-Revolutionary Party in 1920.

 

[Serbovia]

7th of September 1915

His Majesty's Houses of the Senate and the Delegated Commons
Senaatintori (Senate Square)
Vanhakaupunki
Royal Free City of Kalevala

Kustaa Särkelä did not see his two compatriont in the crowd, but he knew that he was there, with the certainty of a child who believed in the existence of his or her guardian angel. A hardy man in the thirty years of age, Särkelä had let go of such delusions a long time ago, even though in the multitude of feelings he experienced at this very moment he might have welcomed a guardian angel or two.

As he stood amidst the crowd of the curious citizens of Kalevala who had arrived to get a glimpse of their monarch, the improvised bomb in the pocket of his overcoat weighed as much as history in itself. This was his burden of Atlas.

A year ago, a small group of frustrated younger Social-Revolutionaries had commenced their planning that had ultimately led to this moment. Särkelä remembered it all too well, the inadequacy he and his group had felt in the face of the plight of the Fennian downtrodden, the weight of all of the human suffering that afflicted the common man and woman of his country, worker and peasant alike. His journey to this day and place had begun eight years ago when he had joined the revolutionary rising in their barricades against inequity and repression, and his path since had been made clear by the events that followed, and how the uprising of 1907 had reached a shameful compromise that had left many of the workers still wanting.

The powerlessness and the frustration he had then felt over that sight of the tide of the revolution collapsing against walls too high to cross had defined his last eight years, as he had immersed himself further and further into the underground activities of the Social-Revolutionary cells who had been left equally wanting by the events of 1907 and its consequences. Särkelä had begun a popular agitator and writer in his own right, his writings on the necessity of a violent revolution and propaganda of the deed as well as broader Socialist ideology being disseminated in the Fennian Socialist underground under a pseudonym.

Ironically, none of this had served to alleviate the inadequacy that he had felt. As overt resistance carried out by like-minded Socialists and Anarchists had become a feature of Fennian public life - assassinations and attempts thereof of Monarchist politicians as well as bankers, industrialists and senior members of the police and the army together with various acts of public resistance that had been put down by the military and the police with varying levels of force - he had felt himself to be a hypocrite. He had watched others carry the torch onwards and die for the cause, while he himself stayed in the relative safety of underground organization, content to influence others to act upon his ideals.

In fact, when this inadequacy had driven him to initiate a plan for the assassination of His Majesty Aleksi IV Väinölä, the so-called King of the Fenns, even his compatriots in the Underground Action Committee of the Fennian Revolution - as the Social-Revolutionary militant cell was called - had shied away from the plan, proclaiming that their energy should be used to target the structures of the system in itself rather than the head. Särkelä had understood their point, himself having advocated a strategy on the elimination of lower officials to create vacuums others would be hesitant to fill owing to the danger by revolutionary assassins, but he had also become convinced that a truly major act of resistance was necessary to serve as an example for others to follow.

He pushed himself forward in the crowd, totally indistinct whatsoever from the dozens who had stopped for the approaching Royal Motorcade already closing in judging from the sounds of the petrol engines that Särkelä could already hear. His working- class outfit did not stand out at all, for the sufficient numbers of assorted servants and workingmen had joined the crowd alongside some uniformed military officers and civil servants that were a typical sight in the Old Town where numerous government ministries and offices held their headquarters. The closing-in sounds of the engines reminded him to be urgent, and he pushed aside an older man in court dress, who in turn shouted something at him. Särkelä paid no attention.

By now he was in sight of the Royal Motorcade that was now coming to a halt in front of the gates to the stairs to the Houses of the Senate and the Commons. It held six cars in total - three for the Kalevala Guards and police detectives responsible for the Monarch's personal safety, two for his closest assistants and courtiers and one for the Monarch himself and his aide-de-camp. Halfway in the motorcade, he now saw the Royal Standard and Aleksi IV himself seated to the back of his personal Fennia Model 6.

Only a line of policemen and some members of the crowd still in front of him stood between him and his target. They had agreed to throw their bombs at the Monarch's car when it would be completely halted. He could tell where the car could stop from the twenty-strong honor guard of the Senate and the Commons Guards, and the speakers of both chambers of the Fennian legislature who had arranged themselves to the bottom of the stairs.

As the cars neared the point of attack, Särkelä put a cigarette between his lips, then reached for a pack of matches as if it was a cigarette that he was lighting. Soon it would be over.

As the Royal Motorcade came to a halt, Särkelä lit up a match in quick motion, then reached for the pipe bomb in his pocket. In equally quick motion, the fuse was lit.

"Death to all monarchs!", Kustaa Särkelä exclaimed, raised his bomb and threw it towards the center of the Royal Motorcade, "Long live the Revolution!".

At the same time, his compatriot threw his own bomb, and the two crude contraptions of death - dynamite- filled pipe capped by wooden blocks on both ends - exploded, raising a plume of smoke and showering those seated in the cars of the Motorcade, the legislature's honor guard and the speakers and some members of the crowd with iron shrapnel.

The crowd exploded in panic, hastily scurrying off in all directions. Särkelä seized his chance and made a run for it. There wouldn't be any time to see if the would-be act of regicide had achieved success.

"Murderer! Murderer!", an onlooker behind him screamed. Särkelä tried to run for an alley he'd identified beforehand as an escape route, but a passing military officer seized him by his jacket, and then someone threw a sucker-punch to the back of his head. He collapsed to the ground, and a furious mob of onlookers descended upon him, tearing at his clothes and delivering kicks and blows in an adrenaline- fuelled rage.

By the time the policemen got to him, Kustaa Särkelä had departed this world for the next. He did not know it, but he had been ultimately successful in his action. His Majesty Aleksi IV of the House of Väinölä was pronounced dead at the scene, his entrails spilled all over the back seat of his personal car by the bombs thrown by the two Social-Revolutionaries.