Chapter 54 What is his objective?
The two men seemed momentarily stunned by Korman's honesty, at a loss for words. But an even greater shock followed immediately when Korman, holding a dessert, said, "I'd like to visit the Lubyanka to learn a few things."
That was correct. The headquarters of the People's Commissariat for Internal Affairs (NKVD) was none other than the Lubyanka. From the days of the Cheka down to the dissolution of the Soviet Union, this location remained unchanged, save for a few architectural expansions and an increasingly formalized exercise of power.
Korman's request was akin to insulting a bald man to his face, or telling two NKVD officers that he wanted to tour the Lubyanka—it was nothing short of blatant imperialism provoking its host.
"Our guest's request is certainly novel," one of the officers began to say, before being interrupted by his companion, who jumped in first, "Such a request is truly rare."
"If you had met me earlier, you would have seen it before," Korman replied, flashing his amiable smile once more.
While the Soviet security apparatus was world-famous, he was not a Soviet citizen. As long as he refrained from doing something foolish like burning the Soviet flag in Lubyanka Square, a normal diplomatic exchange would not brand him an enemy of the people.
"If the French authorities submit a formal application, it should be successful," Pavlov, the officer who had spoken earlier, replied in a strictly professional tone, having already masked his initial shock.
What Pavlov did not know was why Korman was taking an interest in his department. Little did he realize that Korman had just undergone the psychological conditioning of a die-hard reactionary who never bothered to conceal his motives.
His objective was simple: to establish a similar department.
A super-department like the Soviet NKVD could never exist in an electoral democracy like France, particularly within the French metropole itself. Consequently, the work of the Youth Division was currently temporary, and under normal circumstances, it would be disbanded in the future.
However, France possessed not only metropolitan departments but also overseas departments such as Algeria. The post-war wave of colonial independence was about to begin; surely France wouldn't ask the United States for guidance, would they?
Without boasting, France's own experience vastly surpassed that of the United States. American intelligence methods were suited for fomenting foreign discord, but they were not necessarily effective on domestic soil.
Meanwhile, the Soviet Union's demographic ratio of fifty percent ethnic Russians and seventy percent Slavs closely mirrored the population ratio of France, including Algeria. The ethnic French population was roughly four times that of the Algerians, accounting for some eighty percent—slightly higher even than the proportion of Slavs in the Soviet Union.
The Soviet Union had successfully carried out de-radicalization and secularization in deeply religious regions like Central Asia. Since the religion practiced in Central Asia was the same as that of the Algerians, the United States had never faced a comparable challenge.
Faced with Algerian independence, France—as a continental land-power steeped in centralized traditions—would certainly not adopt the small-shopkeeper mentality of the British, tallying up accounts and granting independence the moment it ceased to be profitable.
Massive suppression was inevitable. An environment of that nature demanded an organization akin to the Soviet NKVD to help the military clear away obstacles.
In Korman's eyes, a portion of Soviet experience was undoubtedly applicable to Algeria—such as the management methods of the Gulag forced-labor camps, a sphere the KGB had ceased to oversee by the Khrushchev era.
Therefore, if one wished to draw upon mature experience, this was unquestionably the most opportune moment.
Naturally, combining the best practices of both the Soviet Union and Germany would be even better. To have two great superpowers like the Soviet and German states catering to Korman alone—surely such good fortune was not insignificant?
The two NKVD officers departed with minds full of preoccupied thoughts, yet maintained perfectly calm expressions on the surface. Not far away, Georges Bidault and Vyacheslav Molotov were engaged in warm conversation, actively performing the traditional friendship between France and the Soviet Union.
While the Kremlin blazed with brilliant lights, tens of millions of soldiers across Europe continued to slaughter one another in matched combat, defending national interests with their lives.
As an honest reactionary, Korman certainly would not operate alone in a foreign land. Upon returning to his hotel, he sought out a slightly dizzy Georges Bidault, who had consumed a few too many drinks, and briefed him on the dialogue that had transpired within the Kremlin.
"Why would you want to visit a department like that?" Georges Bidault was likewise a thorough imperialist; he had heard whispers of the Soviet NKVD and possessed a rough idea of the sort of organization it was.
Who could blame him? The department's reputation cast too long a shadow. Long before the outbreak of the world war, the Soviet Union's international standing was poor, and various rumors regarding the NKVD had duly filtered into France.
"I believe this department is exceptionally well-suited for application in the French African colonies," Korman said in a resolute tone. "More accurately, it is suited for several of our overseas departments."
He was, of course, referring to Algeria, though he chose not to state it too bluntly. Even so, Georges Bidault understood.
In the future, Georges Bidault would fall out with Charles de Gaulle precisely over Algerian independence; one could easily gauge the immense importance he attached to the region. This argument successfully swayed the Provisional Government's Minister of Foreign Affairs.
"I don't have much time to spend in Moscow, but I can have the embassy assist you with the application." The strategic weight of Algeria proved indeed to be the pivotal factor that swayed Bidault. This high-ranking official of the Provisional Government immediately grew interested. "You certainly are well-suited for exchanges with counterparts from other nations."
The Youth Division functioned essentially as a gendarmerie, sharing genuine parallels with the Soviet NKVD. Bidault acknowledged this point as well. However, as the Foreign Minister of the Provisional Government, he could not linger indefinitely in the capital of another nation, leaving Korman to handle the matter on his own.
"I am deeply interested in many aspects of this country," Korman declared, holding his head high. "If I can study and learn more, it will go a long way toward compensating for the four-year vacuum. Even if a new conflict does not necessarily erupt, we still ought to understand the combat capability of the Soviet armed forces."
Regardless of the current battlefield situation—highlighted by the unstoppable momentum of the Soviet offensive—or the future possibility of treating the Soviet Union as a hypothetical adversary, France needed to deepen its understanding of the Soviets.
As someone with memories of a past life, Korman knew all too well how terrifying it was to rely on blind self-confidence and miscalculate an opponent's true strength.
Inside the Kremlin, Joseph Stalin bit down on his large pipe, listening to Molotov's report: "The French objective is obvious. Through economic and trade relations with the Soviet Union, they hope to secure Soviet support for France's post-war status as a great power."
"That is hardly surprising. Lacking strength at present, France will naturally seek solutions through diplomacy," Kliment Voroshilov remarked immediately after the sentence finished, offering his own perspective. "Yet our concern is that France will ultimately become a follower of the Americans, despite the reluctance to submit to American will that they have displayed."
"None of us can foresee the future; we can only base our decisions on the current reality," Molotov sighed. "Our goal must be to prevent the formation of an anti-Soviet coalition."
At the Lubyanka NKVD headquarters, Lavrentiy Beria's gaze behind his spectacles was filled with astonishment. "The French want to tour the Lubyanka? What are they playing at? What is their objective?"
Ordinarily, the events of the Kremlin banquet would never have been escalated to his desk; officials within the subordinate departments were quite capable of making such determinations.
Yet because Korman's reactionary request was so devoid of concealed motives—marching straight toward the NKVD's purview—it had been forwarded directly to Beria.
The briefing NKVD general silently thought to himself that he had no idea what was going on, having served for quite some time without ever hearing such a request before.