A lion rises over the Balkans: The Third Bulgarian State
- Thread starter BgKnight
- Start date
As always, the country can't get a break. If god wills it, a Republic it will be, but god may not be so kind.
Thanks!
Ain't no rest for the wicked.
Fixed now, nice catch!
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Disclamer, this post wasn't easy to write and it might not be easy to read. I feel like I am cheapening what is about to happen and I apologize if this seems too dark for y'all. I promise it will get lighter in the future. Bare in mind, when I am writing in first person and third person, as those parts that are in first person are Zahari Stoyanov's own musings, not the author or indeed, what reality may have been like. I apologize if the narrative is confusing, and if the battles are even more confusing, but I deliberately made the battles confusing as possible, because that's what they are in reality. Hope y'all like it (the story that is, not what happens in the story, cause if you like what happens within the story, you have a serious problem).
When one leaves the endless Balkan Mountains, the first thing he will come upon, coming from Shipka pass, is the city of Kazanluk. As the shrub clears, the marching men enter a field of roses, beautiful , in the hundreds, and nestled on the bank of the river, sits Kazanluk. After the destruction of the small Bulgarian village there, the Ottomans built a new town on the left bank of the river. It has grown due to the region being a perfect climate for the damask rose, from which the rose-oil was extracted. It gave the place a particular beauty.
These roses, these beautiful flowers, had been watered with the blood of many patriots. Not too long ago had Bulgarians been killed on this land. The beauty of this land was not lost to the Austrians as well. Who would note to my comrades “You have much to fight for”.
As we entered Anche Kazanlak, the city was pretty depopulated; it was populated mostly by Muslims, so it is understandable that most would run. Of course, they probably ran to Stara Zagora upon hearing that the Austrians are coming. Some homes still had valuables in them, so the Austrians and our men got to looting what was left. Those homes still populated were left untouched, though the Austrians and Hungarians did throw longing looks that way. In the meanwhile, a base camp was set up in the city, occupying the former konak (police station) of the city. Almost immediately, the horse-bound detachments were sent out scouting.
It was liberating to have the horse beneath you ride through the river valley around Anche Kazanlak, we spent a while setting up camps, exploring the area and of course, sending soldiers all along the Tunja river. It was in one of these trips that we finally confirmed what we had suspected all along. The Ottomans were holding the Snake-pass, also known as the Iron Gate. It was a long pass, on the southern side of the Tunja river, between a series of small peaks. Carved out by a tributary of the Tunja, the pass has seen a lot of bloodshed and was the only way to get to Stara Zagora without having to do a massive flanking maneuver. Known as Sidera to the ancient Greeks, and Demir Kapu to the Turks, it was something none of us wanted to go through. The Austrian commanders spent more than a few days trying to find a way to bypass it, but they were ultimately unable. It was obvious we had to force the pass, and the night before the assault, there was a general sense of dread over the camp.
The Slavic soldiers of the Empire, having gotten the hang of some of our words, spent most of their time in our part of the camp, much to the displeasure of their officers. But now, even the Austrian commanders couldn't complain, they were about to order these men, heck, these boys to risk their lives in the passes towards Zagora, and as such they left them wander freely around the Bulgarian part of the camp. This was the first time when I started questioning the Empire’s motives, these men told us stories of being part of an Empire ran by Germans and how the Hungarians looked upon them with contempt. They told us about the Magyars and the struggle of the Slavs within the Austrian Empire to gain an equal status to the Magyars and Germans. Interestingly enough, their commanding officer was indeed a Slav, but I am sure that didn't mean much to the men on the receiving end of the Turkish guns.
As the night came to a close and we all went to an early bed, with only the sentries remaining, It dawned on me, they are facing the same struggles as we are and this Empire that is… liberating us, is enslaving them. This was an opinion that was slowly spreading around the men, but there was a sizable minority of men, who believed themselves to be better than the Slavs of the Empire, and while we spoke with the soldiers, these men who believed the Empire to be good, mingled with the Magyar and Austrian upper classes.
“At least they are Christian” I whispered before I fell asleep. And even then I realized I was lying to myself, because those men believed that Orthodox Christians are heretics. But all of that fell on the background as the morrow came.
The Morning was dark, the sun hadn't yet risen, but the soldiers were up. Their faces gloomy, their stares frozen onto the pass they were approaching. The cold morning was stinging the men as they marched forward. As we were crossing we got an idea what we were about to enter into, as we saw the distant thunder of the artillery, as both the Austrians and Ottomans were locked in a pitched artillery duel. That artillery had been set up in the middle of the night, behind a secure cordon of hundreds of Hungarian soldiers. We could see the front lines of the Austrians already deep in the fray at the front, we saw explosions and the closer we got, the more dead bodies we saw.
You don’t enter a battle like you would enter a door, it is so tranquil, it’s almost surreal. I was on my horse overlooking the men, when the first shell landed. It’s how I realized we were inside the battlefield.
“Grapeshot!” I heard someone yell out with pure terror in his voice, the black shadow of the exploded shell left after the grape shot had blasted out of its case in the sky, lingered like a cloud of death above our men, unleashing a hail of death. Several of the soldiers just collapsed underneath the hail, before we can see to them, five more shells burst in the skies above our forces. It was at that moment where I could only yell “FORWARD”.
The shocked men had been trained well; they quickly resumed their march despite the rain of death from above. A man, nay, a boy at the front of the line begun singing, perhaps to counter the fear, perhaps to block out the noise, and it spread like wildfire. I rode next to the men, crisscrossing the line and encouraging discipline. Several times I narrowly missed the artillery fire. Then the bullets begun raining, we had entered the line of sight of the enemy. And of course, we were responding with the same.
The battle is a funny thing; you don’t realize how quickly time flies while you are fighting. Off the horse-back, I managed to exchange several shots with the enemy. At such distances, it’s a lot easier to dehumanize the enemy, but I remember what it was on Shipka, when we got close to the enemy soldiers. I remember their screams, their agony, and the stares that remain with me to the end of my life. And while now, the enemy wasn’t as close as Shipka, it was no better.
We fired, they fell, they fired, and we fell. I remember seeing the tangled bodies of a Hungarian man and an Ottoman soldier, tightly clasping each-other, even in their deaths, they were locked in a struggle of defiance. One of the soldiers we passed by, as we fired and tried to rush forwards, was a young man, with Slav features, dressed in an impeccable Imperial uniform, lying on the ground with a hole in his chest, his hand extended in a futile attempt to touch a flower for the last time in his life, as he was bleeding out. He was left their, his body to be destroyed. And he had just wanted a moment of beauty in the horror surrounding him.
There was nothing heroic about this anymore, we were no longer facing impossible odds and fighting for the cause, we were locked between two inhuman empires, who cared not about the people who fought their wars.
When Stara Zagora appeared in the horizon, behind all the shrub and the terrible terrain, and we realized that victory was ours. There was no longer a feeling of elation and success, there was no longer that drunken feeling that I had felt before. The nation, drunk on victory, was finally sobering up. It was in Stara Zagora where I realized the horror we had unleashed.
Many books have been written about the dishonor of the Christian troops over Stara Zagora, many angry letters have been exchanged and the event long since forgotten. It will be fruitless for me to keep banging on about it, and if it wasn't a symptom of a disease that was about to sweep the new Bulgarian nation, I wouldn't talk about it at all. But it was the start of something way bigger, something way scarier, and something we have yet to acknowledge.
Once the Austrians and their local allies broke through the Snake’s Pass, they unleashed hell upon what was remaining of the battered and bruised Ottoman army; and, unfortunately, upon the local population. The peaceful treatment of Kazanlak was all but gone, and from within the pass monsters emerged. It is often said, that war turns people into savages, but what they participated in that day, is unacceptable, what is even more unacceptable, is that this opened the flood-gates of hell, and would lead to a downward spiral.
But before we can get onto that, we should also note that there was an opposition to the sack of Stara Zagora. Men within the Austrian-Hungarian and Bulgarian command did attempt to keep their soldiers constrained. Zahari Stoyanov’s “flying detachment” specifically was known for being particularly harsh against the rebels who looted and raped. But unfortunately, at that time, this was standard practice for a victorious force. Estimates (hotly debated) place the death-toll and the amount of displaced people to be about 50% of the Muslim part of the Zagoran population.
And it only went downhill from there. As the army progressed through the Thracian plains, villages and towns were burned, looted and destroyed, thousands killed and many more displaced. Brutalities mounted and by the time the Austrian-Hungarian Military reached Odrin, it was obvious to some of the revolutionaries, that this was not the holy war of liberation they had signed for. But many more within the rebels were happy to participate in the atrocities.
Only recently did it become acceptable to speak in the historiographical sphere about these conflicts and the result of the so called “March through Thrace”. It would be just a prelude to what was lated going to become a much bigger problem. And the Zagorie region was where it all started.
Once at Odrin, the situation begun to fall apart faster than anticipated , the rebels were aggressively splintering, but what had caused the biggest uproar, was when Levski’s army finally reached Odrin and linked up with the rest.
As Levski entered the camp, the men were joyful, happy even. There were songs being sang, there were caps being throw and rebel soldiers who had not seen each-other for a while were hugging and talking loudly about victory. But Levski was anything but joyful, his iron stare was the same, no smile grazed his face and Ilyo Voyvoda wasn’t even trying to smile himself. His retinue was a group of hardcore veteran Hayduci. Once Benkovski walked out to meet Levski, the man dismounted, he shook hands with the General and sincerely smiled a bit for the first time, once Botev met him. The two men had spent a winter, in misery in an abandoned windmill in Romania, they knew each-other well.
As the group walked forward, their voices muffled by the cheerful mood around them, Levski regained his tense look. Around him the people were pushing and had made a wall of living men around the Deacon. They all wanted to touch him or talk to him, and touch and talk he did, but quickly and modestly as possible, he was not a man of the crowd. Finally, after a while, the commotion died down and Levski, Benkovski, Ilyo Voyvoda and Botev managed to get to the tent reserved for the two Generals. As soon as they walked in, Levski turned to Benkovski in anger.
“Do you remember the oath you made to me, the oath you took in front of god?”
Benkovski was rather shocked, but he still responded “Yes..”
“Apparently you seem to have forgotten it completely.” He spat “May I remind you what we were fighting for? “
“freedom.” Benkovski answered
“Not only that, but a pure and sacred republic, where all can live together. Right? Isn’t that what we promised each-other”
“Yes… but…”
“But nothing. You made a pledge, you took an oath. Does that mean nothing to you? I saw what your “forces” did along the way, so many dead and dying, so much misery. Those are your own people, Georgi… “
“We tried to stop it.” Botev interjected, but Levski silenced him “How many people did you hang?”
The question shocked everyone. They all looked at Levski who just stood there. “We hang the Turks for the murders of ordinary people. Why are our men not held at the same standard?”
“We…” Benkovski looked at Botev, then back at Levski. Ilyo Voyvoda was obviously clutching his pistol, the room was really tense. “…I am sorry deacon. We can’t murder our men.”
“You fight for an Empire, you stooped so low as to kill civilians and now you are refusing to punish your men? What is the point of resisting the Ottomans if we are to become like them!”
“And what are you suggesting? Fight the Austrians as well?! Die, when freedom is so close? Kill half of my force, for the shit they did?”
“Yes.” Levski said coldly. “You had an oath…”
“NO! My oath was to protect my people! The Bulgarian people… my soldiers. I protected my brothers. I don’t fight for an Empire, I fight for Bulgaria. IT doesn’t matter if it’s a Republic or a Kingdom, it doesn’t matter how many of Austrians and Turks die for it. But I will not have my men die blindly for a cause when freedom is within reach! I am sorry Deacon Vasili, I respect you… but I cannot allow you to spread conflict.” As he said that, he left through the tents’ door, and his guards came in after him. Before Ilyo could withdraw his gun, both him and Levski were arrested. Quietly of course, they were led to their tents and held there, to “rest” on Benkovski’s order.
Excerpt from: “Writings on Bulgaria’s Uprisings”
by Zahari Stoyanov; 1884–1892.
by Zahari Stoyanov; 1884–1892.
When one leaves the endless Balkan Mountains, the first thing he will come upon, coming from Shipka pass, is the city of Kazanluk. As the shrub clears, the marching men enter a field of roses, beautiful , in the hundreds, and nestled on the bank of the river, sits Kazanluk. After the destruction of the small Bulgarian village there, the Ottomans built a new town on the left bank of the river. It has grown due to the region being a perfect climate for the damask rose, from which the rose-oil was extracted. It gave the place a particular beauty.
These roses, these beautiful flowers, had been watered with the blood of many patriots. Not too long ago had Bulgarians been killed on this land. The beauty of this land was not lost to the Austrians as well. Who would note to my comrades “You have much to fight for”.
As we entered Anche Kazanlak, the city was pretty depopulated; it was populated mostly by Muslims, so it is understandable that most would run. Of course, they probably ran to Stara Zagora upon hearing that the Austrians are coming. Some homes still had valuables in them, so the Austrians and our men got to looting what was left. Those homes still populated were left untouched, though the Austrians and Hungarians did throw longing looks that way. In the meanwhile, a base camp was set up in the city, occupying the former konak (police station) of the city. Almost immediately, the horse-bound detachments were sent out scouting.
It was liberating to have the horse beneath you ride through the river valley around Anche Kazanlak, we spent a while setting up camps, exploring the area and of course, sending soldiers all along the Tunja river. It was in one of these trips that we finally confirmed what we had suspected all along. The Ottomans were holding the Snake-pass, also known as the Iron Gate. It was a long pass, on the southern side of the Tunja river, between a series of small peaks. Carved out by a tributary of the Tunja, the pass has seen a lot of bloodshed and was the only way to get to Stara Zagora without having to do a massive flanking maneuver. Known as Sidera to the ancient Greeks, and Demir Kapu to the Turks, it was something none of us wanted to go through. The Austrian commanders spent more than a few days trying to find a way to bypass it, but they were ultimately unable. It was obvious we had to force the pass, and the night before the assault, there was a general sense of dread over the camp.
The Slavic soldiers of the Empire, having gotten the hang of some of our words, spent most of their time in our part of the camp, much to the displeasure of their officers. But now, even the Austrian commanders couldn't complain, they were about to order these men, heck, these boys to risk their lives in the passes towards Zagora, and as such they left them wander freely around the Bulgarian part of the camp. This was the first time when I started questioning the Empire’s motives, these men told us stories of being part of an Empire ran by Germans and how the Hungarians looked upon them with contempt. They told us about the Magyars and the struggle of the Slavs within the Austrian Empire to gain an equal status to the Magyars and Germans. Interestingly enough, their commanding officer was indeed a Slav, but I am sure that didn't mean much to the men on the receiving end of the Turkish guns.
As the night came to a close and we all went to an early bed, with only the sentries remaining, It dawned on me, they are facing the same struggles as we are and this Empire that is… liberating us, is enslaving them. This was an opinion that was slowly spreading around the men, but there was a sizable minority of men, who believed themselves to be better than the Slavs of the Empire, and while we spoke with the soldiers, these men who believed the Empire to be good, mingled with the Magyar and Austrian upper classes.
“At least they are Christian” I whispered before I fell asleep. And even then I realized I was lying to myself, because those men believed that Orthodox Christians are heretics. But all of that fell on the background as the morrow came.
***
The Morning was dark, the sun hadn't yet risen, but the soldiers were up. Their faces gloomy, their stares frozen onto the pass they were approaching. The cold morning was stinging the men as they marched forward. As we were crossing we got an idea what we were about to enter into, as we saw the distant thunder of the artillery, as both the Austrians and Ottomans were locked in a pitched artillery duel. That artillery had been set up in the middle of the night, behind a secure cordon of hundreds of Hungarian soldiers. We could see the front lines of the Austrians already deep in the fray at the front, we saw explosions and the closer we got, the more dead bodies we saw.
You don’t enter a battle like you would enter a door, it is so tranquil, it’s almost surreal. I was on my horse overlooking the men, when the first shell landed. It’s how I realized we were inside the battlefield.
“Grapeshot!” I heard someone yell out with pure terror in his voice, the black shadow of the exploded shell left after the grape shot had blasted out of its case in the sky, lingered like a cloud of death above our men, unleashing a hail of death. Several of the soldiers just collapsed underneath the hail, before we can see to them, five more shells burst in the skies above our forces. It was at that moment where I could only yell “FORWARD”.
The shocked men had been trained well; they quickly resumed their march despite the rain of death from above. A man, nay, a boy at the front of the line begun singing, perhaps to counter the fear, perhaps to block out the noise, and it spread like wildfire. I rode next to the men, crisscrossing the line and encouraging discipline. Several times I narrowly missed the artillery fire. Then the bullets begun raining, we had entered the line of sight of the enemy. And of course, we were responding with the same.
The battle is a funny thing; you don’t realize how quickly time flies while you are fighting. Off the horse-back, I managed to exchange several shots with the enemy. At such distances, it’s a lot easier to dehumanize the enemy, but I remember what it was on Shipka, when we got close to the enemy soldiers. I remember their screams, their agony, and the stares that remain with me to the end of my life. And while now, the enemy wasn’t as close as Shipka, it was no better.
We fired, they fell, they fired, and we fell. I remember seeing the tangled bodies of a Hungarian man and an Ottoman soldier, tightly clasping each-other, even in their deaths, they were locked in a struggle of defiance. One of the soldiers we passed by, as we fired and tried to rush forwards, was a young man, with Slav features, dressed in an impeccable Imperial uniform, lying on the ground with a hole in his chest, his hand extended in a futile attempt to touch a flower for the last time in his life, as he was bleeding out. He was left their, his body to be destroyed. And he had just wanted a moment of beauty in the horror surrounding him.
There was nothing heroic about this anymore, we were no longer facing impossible odds and fighting for the cause, we were locked between two inhuman empires, who cared not about the people who fought their wars.
When Stara Zagora appeared in the horizon, behind all the shrub and the terrible terrain, and we realized that victory was ours. There was no longer a feeling of elation and success, there was no longer that drunken feeling that I had felt before. The nation, drunk on victory, was finally sobering up. It was in Stara Zagora where I realized the horror we had unleashed.
Excerpts from: “The True History of the Liberation
1860-1870” by Prof. Bozhidar Dimitrov
© Balkan Press Ltd., 1994
1860-1870” by Prof. Bozhidar Dimitrov
© Balkan Press Ltd., 1994
Many books have been written about the dishonor of the Christian troops over Stara Zagora, many angry letters have been exchanged and the event long since forgotten. It will be fruitless for me to keep banging on about it, and if it wasn't a symptom of a disease that was about to sweep the new Bulgarian nation, I wouldn't talk about it at all. But it was the start of something way bigger, something way scarier, and something we have yet to acknowledge.
Once the Austrians and their local allies broke through the Snake’s Pass, they unleashed hell upon what was remaining of the battered and bruised Ottoman army; and, unfortunately, upon the local population. The peaceful treatment of Kazanlak was all but gone, and from within the pass monsters emerged. It is often said, that war turns people into savages, but what they participated in that day, is unacceptable, what is even more unacceptable, is that this opened the flood-gates of hell, and would lead to a downward spiral.
But before we can get onto that, we should also note that there was an opposition to the sack of Stara Zagora. Men within the Austrian-Hungarian and Bulgarian command did attempt to keep their soldiers constrained. Zahari Stoyanov’s “flying detachment” specifically was known for being particularly harsh against the rebels who looted and raped. But unfortunately, at that time, this was standard practice for a victorious force. Estimates (hotly debated) place the death-toll and the amount of displaced people to be about 50% of the Muslim part of the Zagoran population.
And it only went downhill from there. As the army progressed through the Thracian plains, villages and towns were burned, looted and destroyed, thousands killed and many more displaced. Brutalities mounted and by the time the Austrian-Hungarian Military reached Odrin, it was obvious to some of the revolutionaries, that this was not the holy war of liberation they had signed for. But many more within the rebels were happy to participate in the atrocities.
Only recently did it become acceptable to speak in the historiographical sphere about these conflicts and the result of the so called “March through Thrace”. It would be just a prelude to what was lated going to become a much bigger problem. And the Zagorie region was where it all started.
Once at Odrin, the situation begun to fall apart faster than anticipated , the rebels were aggressively splintering, but what had caused the biggest uproar, was when Levski’s army finally reached Odrin and linked up with the rest.
***
As Levski entered the camp, the men were joyful, happy even. There were songs being sang, there were caps being throw and rebel soldiers who had not seen each-other for a while were hugging and talking loudly about victory. But Levski was anything but joyful, his iron stare was the same, no smile grazed his face and Ilyo Voyvoda wasn’t even trying to smile himself. His retinue was a group of hardcore veteran Hayduci. Once Benkovski walked out to meet Levski, the man dismounted, he shook hands with the General and sincerely smiled a bit for the first time, once Botev met him. The two men had spent a winter, in misery in an abandoned windmill in Romania, they knew each-other well.
As the group walked forward, their voices muffled by the cheerful mood around them, Levski regained his tense look. Around him the people were pushing and had made a wall of living men around the Deacon. They all wanted to touch him or talk to him, and touch and talk he did, but quickly and modestly as possible, he was not a man of the crowd. Finally, after a while, the commotion died down and Levski, Benkovski, Ilyo Voyvoda and Botev managed to get to the tent reserved for the two Generals. As soon as they walked in, Levski turned to Benkovski in anger.
“Do you remember the oath you made to me, the oath you took in front of god?”
Benkovski was rather shocked, but he still responded “Yes..”
“Apparently you seem to have forgotten it completely.” He spat “May I remind you what we were fighting for? “
“freedom.” Benkovski answered
“Not only that, but a pure and sacred republic, where all can live together. Right? Isn’t that what we promised each-other”
“Yes… but…”
“But nothing. You made a pledge, you took an oath. Does that mean nothing to you? I saw what your “forces” did along the way, so many dead and dying, so much misery. Those are your own people, Georgi… “
“We tried to stop it.” Botev interjected, but Levski silenced him “How many people did you hang?”
The question shocked everyone. They all looked at Levski who just stood there. “We hang the Turks for the murders of ordinary people. Why are our men not held at the same standard?”
“We…” Benkovski looked at Botev, then back at Levski. Ilyo Voyvoda was obviously clutching his pistol, the room was really tense. “…I am sorry deacon. We can’t murder our men.”
“You fight for an Empire, you stooped so low as to kill civilians and now you are refusing to punish your men? What is the point of resisting the Ottomans if we are to become like them!”
“And what are you suggesting? Fight the Austrians as well?! Die, when freedom is so close? Kill half of my force, for the shit they did?”
“Yes.” Levski said coldly. “You had an oath…”
“NO! My oath was to protect my people! The Bulgarian people… my soldiers. I protected my brothers. I don’t fight for an Empire, I fight for Bulgaria. IT doesn’t matter if it’s a Republic or a Kingdom, it doesn’t matter how many of Austrians and Turks die for it. But I will not have my men die blindly for a cause when freedom is within reach! I am sorry Deacon Vasili, I respect you… but I cannot allow you to spread conflict.” As he said that, he left through the tents’ door, and his guards came in after him. Before Ilyo could withdraw his gun, both him and Levski were arrested. Quietly of course, they were led to their tents and held there, to “rest” on Benkovski’s order.
Well, we have reached the end of a long road. The horror that is unleashed by the Austrians/Bulgarians was overall unleashed by the Russians OTL in similar quantities. That region itself had been subject to frequent pogroms form both sides, so the population won't escape or run, and probably won't be destroyed, as the war is close to its end. But you can say the Revolution is indeed hijacked, by the pro-Austrian sentiment. Bare in mind, that even if the Bulgarian rebellion fails at this point it is just trailing a giant Austrian army that is pushing its way forward, so even if the revolutionary movement fractures, the Austrians are winning the war and organized Ottoman armies are few and far in between.
But this is to show that its not all roses and liberation, its chaos, its war and its ugly on both sides, and the rebels are a large force, so while it started off with the best intentions, you know what they say about the road to hell right?
Absolutely--it's the breakdown in civil order and the exigencies of war.
I do hope Bulgaria manages to break out of the Austrian sphere eventually or at least find some level of neutrality; OTOH, it has no land claims on Austria and two countries that do have land claims on Austria (Serbia and Romania) have plausible land claims on Bulgaria...
I cannot confirm or deny, but having written this forward a bit, I can say some interesting things will happen internationally as a result of the Balkans.
Dementor
Banned
An interesting, if disturbing update. Though it was nice to see "На нож!" appearing earlier than in OTL Also nice to see the war turning in Bulgaria's favor, though the way it's going the Austrians may well attempt to replace the Ottomans.
Considering the behavior of the rebels against the Turkish population, I can well understand why it would happen, though I have some doubts whether it would be to this extent. While in OTL there were attacks upon the Muslim population in Thrace and many fled, there wasn't the near destruction of the Muslim presence in Thrace as has happened in your scenario. In fact many of those had fled returned after the peace was signed so there were over 200 thousand Muslims in Eastern Rumelia, nearly as many as before the war. Of course I understand that here the Bulgarian army is much bigger than the small volunteer corps fighting under the Russians and there are far more recent atrocities that were committed against the Bulgarians, so this is a factor here. And I agree that Berkovski would be unlikely to attempt to rein them in. Still, I'm not entirely sure how realistic this course of events would be, especially considering the traditional relations between Bulgarians and the Muslim minorities in OTL, where the option of mass removal of the Muslim population has never been the dominant opinion (of course I'm well aware that unavoidable bias on my part is probably influencing my thinking). But it's your timeline and it's far from finished, so I'm not rushing to judgment yet.
And of course the arrest of Levski doesn't bode well. Whatever the fighting qualities of Benkovski, he does not seem at all the type to be able to lead a country in peace. And disunion is the last thing needed at this point among the rebels, when the country might be about to become part of the game of Empires.
On other matters, what are the Russian doing? They can't be too happy about Austria-Hungary seemingly taking over Bulgaria when influence was supposed to be shared.
Also nice to see the war turning in Bulgaria's favor, though the way it's going the Austrians may well attempt to replace the Ottomans.Considering the behavior of the rebels against the Turkish population, I can well understand why it would happen, though I have some doubts whether it would be to this extent. While in OTL there were attacks upon the Muslim population in Thrace and many fled, there wasn't the near destruction of the Muslim presence in Thrace as has happened in your scenario. In fact many of those had fled returned after the peace was signed so there were over 200 thousand Muslims in Eastern Rumelia, nearly as many as before the war. Of course I understand that here the Bulgarian army is much bigger than the small volunteer corps fighting under the Russians and there are far more recent atrocities that were committed against the Bulgarians, so this is a factor here. And I agree that Berkovski would be unlikely to attempt to rein them in. Still, I'm not entirely sure how realistic this course of events would be, especially considering the traditional relations between Bulgarians and the Muslim minorities in OTL, where the option of mass removal of the Muslim population has never been the dominant opinion (of course I'm well aware that unavoidable bias on my part is probably influencing my thinking). But it's your timeline and it's far from finished, so I'm not rushing to judgment yet.
And of course the arrest of Levski doesn't bode well. Whatever the fighting qualities of Benkovski, he does not seem at all the type to be able to lead a country in peace. And disunion is the last thing needed at this point among the rebels, when the country might be about to become part of the game of Empires.
On other matters, what are the Russian doing? They can't be too happy about Austria-Hungary seemingly taking over Bulgaria when influence was supposed to be shared.
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An interesting, if disturbing update. Though it was nice to see "На нож!" appearing earlier than in OTL
Indeed, I decided it fits well here. It will certainly return again and again for sure. As for the Austrians, they probably won't try to occupy as Bulgaria is too far from their own centers. But occupation is not the only type of domination.
Considering the behavior of the rebels against the Turkish population, I can well understand why it would happen, though I have some doubts whether it would be to this extent. While in OTL there were attacks upon the Muslim population in Thrace and many fled, there wasn't the near destruction of the Muslim presence in Thrace as has happened in your scenario. In fact many of those had fled returned after the peace was signed so there were over 200 thousand Muslims in Eastern Rumelia, nearly as many as before the war. Of course I understand that here the Bulgarian army is much bigger than the small volunteer corps fighting under the Russians and there are far more recent atrocities that were committed against the Bulgarians, so this is a factor here. And I agree that Berkovski would be unlikely to attempt to rein them in. Still, I'm not entirely sure how realistic this course of events would be, especially considering the traditional relations between Bulgarians and the Muslim minorities in OTL, where the option of mass removal of the Muslim population has never been the dominant opinion (of course I'm well aware that unavoidable bias on my part is probably influencing my thinking). But it's your timeline and it's far from finished, so I'm not rushing to judgment yet.
All of those points are absolutely valid, the reason for the atrocities TTL happened as opposite to OTL are varied, and you touched upon some of them. First of all the timing is very crucial, thanks to the horrid events at Sofia and the very recent much much more bloody events at Shipka it is safe to assume that the Rebels, which are now pretty much an active army, will be itching for a response. Of course, the relations between Bulgarians and Muslims play a role here as to mitigate a lot of the potential atrocities, because it could have been much worse and the death toll much higher. The other part of it all is where it happened, as I noted in Kazanlak the army didn't touch the local muslim population, but at that point the military was most likely exhausted broken but filled with hope, once that hope was broken by the enormous loss of life and desperation of the Iron Gate before Zagora however, things changed rather quickly. So you have a large mass of angry men, who just came out of one of the most vicious fights in the tight confined spaces of the Iron Gate who are disgruntled, tired and angry, most probably lost relatives to the Turks and their Bashi-bouzuk and would be happy to seek revenge. Add that to the command not willing or able to reign them in as they stream into Stara Zagora you end up with a horrible situation where any resistance is squashed with excessive force and the Muslims are chased out at best and I don't really want to talk about the worst. A lot of this includes the Austrians, this wasn't a solely Bulgarian decision or event, it was most likely triggered by the Austrians who on the other hand have no reservations about "purging" the city. So it was most likely the Austrians who pulled the proverbial genie from the bottle and those Bulgarians who seek revenge were quick to join them.
From that point forward, I should have noted that after Zagora the number of atrocities form Bulgarians upon Muslims declined considerably, with Zagora serving as more an exception rather then the rule, but attrocities still happen afterwords, both by volunteer Bulgarians and mostly by Austrian military.
Oh I am under no illusion, neither is Benkovski, there is a reason why he arrested him so quietly and pulled him to the side. He will be trying to close Levski on the sideline and lie about his arrest rather then face half his military revolting against him. And I absolutely agree that this is the last thing the Bulgarian side needs, but with a lot of strong personalities in this military and considering its size, we can safely assume that a split will happen anyways sooner or later, Benkovski is just delaying the inevitable until after the war.
Oh they are unhappy alright and they will make their discontent heard pretty soon.