A House Divided
He preferred his history neat. He was aware the reality could be complicated, but the narrative need not be, best not be.
He had imagined what this time period would like like from the eyes of the future. Arrogant, perhaps. But why not?
His was the power, his were the decisions. He and the party made the decisions that mattered, the decisions worth writing about.
Much as the poor would always be with us, so too, would the daily struggles of every day people. You did not have to turn to history to learn about those, if there was anything worth learning. You merely had to look around. But matters of state were not every day decisions, and yet they had gained the appearance of effortless grace, of a smooth progression from one Mexico to the next, from the past, into the present, and into the future. History. Neat. As desired and intended. Peaceful. Orderly. Increasingly productive. Increasingly powerful. Order and Progress, at the same time.
The world, it seemed, had a sense of humor.
It was still hard to believe. How and why had the Americans actually reached this point? The fighting, the bickering, the occasional political crisis there had come to seem normal, the constant presence of the other Great North American Republic on the edge of a precipice had grown to seem normal. Afer awhile, it had become hard to believe that they would ever fall over, after all, every time, they had kept going along. Another compromise. Another last minute step back from the brink. Why now?
There was no reason that he could see. The Democrats remained in power up there. The Republican party, the newest challenge to the old order, had not managed to win. And yet the southern states had, in some sort of mania, decided now was the time.
The consequences would not be isolated.
The Liberals were calling upon Mexico to aid her ally, the United States, in ending the foul practice of slavery in North America once and for all. This ignored the fact, of course, that the United States itself had not decided to do such a thing yet. But all sorts of young hotheads were calling for an expedition, or a demonstration of power, or
something.
In a sane universe, the United States fighting a rebellion in its southern states would be the best news in the world. It would represent a sometime friend and ally but potential rival distracted by much more serious problems at home. More time for Mexico to grow, and prosper. More time for his party to put everything in order and make the newly secured west unassailable.
But it would not be that simple. Now they would have to spend time and attention on making sure nobody did anything stupid and that everyone kept out of the American's affairs. They would be unlikely to view any incursion on their territory, even if nominally meant as assistance to put down a rebellion, with any sort of forgiveness.
What's worse, is that the Southerners, or Confederates, or whatever on earth they were calling themselves right now, seemed enthusiastic and optimistic about their little independence movement.
In a normal universe, this rebellion would be a particularly complex form of suicide. The newly minted country was tiny in comparison to the United States i territory, in people, and in the weapons of war. In the end, all the headaches this mania will have caused him will have been for nothing....
