Chapter 521

Marian Baum had agreed to leave for the meeting place at different times in case they were being watched, so he was to depart last. As he sat lost in thought, one of his fellow Catacombs members took a seat across from him. Susanne Nussbaum was a radical activist who shared the views of Co-Chairman Janina Schweitzer from earlier, as well as the Chairman of the Catacombs Parliament’s Judiciary Committee. Because the separation of powers was not clearly defined within the Catacombs, the chair of the Judiciary Committee essentially functioned as the Minister of Justice of the Reichsjustizamt¹. The moment Nussbaum sat across from him and began watching him, Baum felt a cold sweat break out again. Although Baum understood the views of the radical activists and sometimes even sympathized with them, he was fundamentally a moderate realist activist, so he inevitably found himself at odds with them more often than not.

Chairman Susanne Nussbaum was younger than Marian Baum, but she had studied longer than Baum, who had done no more than graduate from university—and longer even than Co-Chairman Janina Schweitzer. She preferred burying herself in calculations to leading others, so she was not considered someone suited to becoming a leader like Schweitzer. But when it came to arguments, she was thorough to the extreme. The moment he found himself facing her, Marian Baum felt even more exhausted and thought he would have to keep his wits about him even more carefully.

Nussbaum spoke.

“Sir Marian Baum. We are standing before a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The message and opportunity you have brought us from the Crown Prince of Bavaria will undoubtedly be an unparalleled advantage, and I hope that, on this foundation, we may find a way for our commoner mages to return to the surface.”

“Yes. I feel the same.”

“However, I still do not know how I am supposed to accept the fact that this opportunity to return to the surface was given to us by the Royal Family. This is not the kind of moderation I wanted.”

Marian Baum closed his eyes. So that was it. Nussbaum and Baum had a difference of opinion that could not be bridged.

He understood that they had a right that remained unsettled. But rather than reclaiming it peacefully, Nussbaum wanted to beat their archenemy, Prussia, down with their own strength and take back what was rightfully theirs. And Baum could deeply sympathize with that sentiment as well.

The most satisfying course would be to take revenge by crushing Prussia by force. But for all its appeal, it was also the most unrealistic fantasy. This was where the Catacombs’ radicals and moderates parted ways.

The moderates argued that, for the Catacombs to achieve liberation, they had to be willing to accept realistic alternatives. The radicals, on the other hand, insisted that true liberation required them to stand and fight, prepared to repay the suffering they had endured in kind. The moderates pointed out that the radicals’ methods could lead to unnecessary loss of life, and that while placing greater value on resolve than on practical reality might have its moral merits, it was still highly idealistic in that it did little to lessen the actual harm suffered.

The radicals countered that even if they had to accept a certain amount of real loss of life, what mattered was achieving their ideals without allowing any compromise. They argued that the moderates’ approach could never bring about true liberation, but only a fundamentally fragile peace won by accommodating themselves to the circumstances of the times.

The word ‘radikal,’ like its etymology suggests, is connected to roots and fundamental principles. Thus, the current divide—between radicals who reject immediate change and moderates who welcome it—arose from this difference in values. Radical leaders such as Co-Chairman Janina Schweitzer and Judicial Committee Chair Susanne Nussbaum wanted to give up the opportunity before them and wait for the time when the Catacombs could wage war against Prussia on their own and win a glorious and dignified victory.

The moderates, Chairman Antje Dracher and Marian Baum, took the opposite view. They wanted to seize the opportunity now, at what was realistically the optimal moment, in order to minimize the suffering of commoner mages who would continue to be persecuted on the surface and to secure the Catacombs’ power above ground as quickly as possible.

Marian Baum was a realist, but as someone who had once been a persecuted member of the Catacombs himself, he understood the radicals’ way of thinking and even found something appealing in it. He knew that such activists could send a great shock through society and rapidly push reality in a better direction. Yet he also knew that, if circumstances turned against them, a backlash from the times could lead the group to ruin, or that the social movement represented by the radicals could become stalled for years.

In Marian Baum’s eyes, this was not the radicals’ fault. It was the fault of an unjust age that, even after creating the need for radical improvements to reality, continued to perpetuate injustice. The stagnation itself was another failure of the times. Even so, he believed they had to remain wary of the very real possibility that the Catacombs could face an unforeseen backlash because of a vision so radically ahead of its time.

And although it was not something that applied to the Catacombs in their current situation, he was also wary that if radicalism spread throughout society as a whole, it could lead to a catastrophe like the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre.

Marian Baum therefore hoped that the moderates and radicals would balance each other out, reaching a point that was neither too passive nor too aggressive. That was why he did not know what he could say to the radical committee chairman who insisted that ‘true self-determination means reclaiming the rights owed to us through our own actions, from beginning to end.’ He knew that if he could not persuade this person, then in the long run, he would not be able to persuade Co-Chair Janina Schweitzer or the other radical activists either.

Yet this was not an issue where one side was entirely right and the other entirely wrong. Both had valid points, and both had things that could be criticized, which made persuasion all the more difficult. In the end, all Marian Baum could do was explain his moderate views as sincerely as he could, rather than trying to force the other side to accept them. By doing so, he could only hope to understand one another with Committee Chairman Nussbaum and find some point where they could properly reconcile their views.

As Marian Baum’s thoughts dragged on, Committee Chairman Nussbaum spoke.

“If you have nothing to say to me, then allow me to speak first. I have something I wanted to say to you anyway, Sir Marian Baum. You probably already realize that there was a problem with the conversation you had with Co-Chair Schweitzer earlier. If you agreed with her without realizing that, I would be disappointed.”

Marian Baum was inwardly caught off guard by her words and looked at Nussbaum, Chairman of the Judiciary Committee.

“What?”

“There is room for improvement in Co-Chair Janina Schweitzer’s argument. Even if I were to grant that Co-Chair Schweitzer shares the same radical convictions as I do, I would still consider her statement nothing more than an idealistic argument whose chances of being realized approach zero. But even setting that aside, the most serious problem is that her argument was built upon a conceptual error.”

Marian Baum slowly closed and opened his eyes without saying a word. Even when someone shared her views, Nussbaum enjoyed arguing against them if she believed the reasoning or other statements used to support those views were unsound.

Or rather, ‘enjoyed’ might not have been the right word. She was so expressionless about everything that she hardly looked like she enjoyed anything at all.

A conceptual error. Marian Baum swallowed as he repeated the thought in his mind. Committee Chairman Nussbaum continued in a cool, measured voice.

“Co-Chair Janina Schweitzer made the mistake of confusing the different uses of the term ‘bystander.’”

Nussbaum spoke about Janina Schweitzer without bothering to soften her words out of courtesy. Marian Baum had to make an effort not to show his surprise, though that was not particularly difficult. Because he already knew exactly what Nussbaum was going to say.

“Chairman Janina Schweitzer based her use of the term ‘bystander’ on the criminal law concept of aiding and abetting. In that context, a bystander refers to an accomplice who allows a crime to continue by failing to prevent it. There may be differences of opinion as to when the term ‘bystander’ can properly be applied, but under no circumstances can the Kingdom of Bavaria be called an absolute or perpetual bystander.”

“…….”

“Strictly speaking, the ‘bystander’ in the sense Chairman Janina Schweitzer used the term should not be the Kingdom of Bavaria, but the one hundred million German citizens.”

Chairman Nussbaum said this with a sharp look. Silence fell.

Marian Baum thought. The Catacombs’ leadership was, naturally, made up of Germans, with its composition reflecting the populations of the various states, and this person was a Prussian. Was she trying to elevate Bavaria, Prussia’s rival, out of a desire for revenge against Prussia? Or could she genuinely prove, with sound reasoning, that Janina Schweitzer’s argument had been insufficient and therefore not the best stance for someone serving as a representative of the Catacombs? Or was it simply because of her profound disappointment in the one hundred million German citizens who had allowed the Catacombs to be brought to this state?

“Is this because of your resentment toward Prussia?”

Chairman Nussbaum looked disappointed, as though she had not expected Marian to ask such a question—as though it were not even worth answering. Marian felt awkward at the chairman’s blunt reaction, but he had no intention of withdrawing the question. If Nussbaum intended to scrutinize everything so thoroughly, then Marian also needed to understand exactly what she meant by her words. In this case, the most important point was whether she intended to correct the framework that Chairman Janina Schweitzer, the ‘politician among the activists,’ had constructed.

Chairman Nussbaum argued in a low voice.

“We are at a historic moment for the Catacombs. With Easter of 1898 as our turning point, the Catacombs may be able to meet an entirely different fate. At a time when everyone must devote themselves wholeheartedly to a single goal, we are also facing a crisis in which every other sensitive matter that deviates even slightly from that goal—matters that ought to be examined with care and precision—can instead be treated as casually as a cigarette butt tossed down a hillside. As Chairman of the Judiciary Committee, I do not want political rhetoric, at a time when this invisible crisis has arrived, to turn the Catacombs into a mindless mob or become a seed of division among us. The Catacombs are now one step closer to our common goal of regaining a foothold on the surface, and that is precisely why we are approaching a critical moment in which we must reset the direction, course, and goals of the Catacombs. We must not forget that in countless revolutions, despite the people’s burning hopes and resentment, the aftermath of the first great victory did not open into a field of flowers. Instead, partisan bloodshed followed. It is our duty as the leadership to look to history as a mirror and strive not to repeat the same mistakes. That is why I am speaking now: to prevent Chairman Schweitzer’s argument from spreading within the Catacombs into a subtle misuse of the straw man fallacy, an uncontrollable tendency toward black-and-white thinking, and extremism. Do you understand so far?”

Marian Baum was deeply flustered by the words that flowed at an unbroken, steady pace, like someone reciting a legal statute from memory, but he nodded. He did understand.

“If you truly believe that Bavaria is an absolute and perpetual bystander state—which, judging from what you just said, I assume you do not—then you must understand every word I am about to say without missing a single one. If you miss even one word, you will not understand where the error occurred in the first place. There is another reason you must do so. In trying to persuade an audience you had defined as a mindless mob—the leadership of the Catacombs—you ended up, like Chairman Schweitzer, obscuring the truth and thereby setting the Catacombs on a course that could worsen our current situation. That makes you responsible as well. Given your level of understanding, even if we truly were a mindless mob, you should have taken the time to explain everything carefully. Do you understand why I am insisting on being this thorough?”

In other words, Chairman Nussbaum was saying that Marian Baum had adopted the wrong terminology in order to persuade them in the immediate debate, and in doing so, had steered Catacombs politics onto the wrong path.

Marian Baum did wonder whether Nussbaum really had to scrutinize every single term to this extent. Yet, just as Nussbaum had said, he knew that the extreme turmoil that could follow a revolution or independence was a real possibility—and not merely a possibility, but a highly likely one. Indeed, even calling it ‘turmoil’ was too mild, since that was still an unsettled term that left room for hope. What could emerge instead was a ‘new reaction,’ in which the hoped-for better world failed to materialize after the revolution or independence, and new struggles for power broke out along with disputes over how their goals should be redefined.

That possibility began with the complacency of failing to deal with the seeds of a problem when they were first discovered.

And so Marian Baum recognized his own complacency, and he also understood what Chairman Nussbaum was trying to do: prevent Catacombs from going down the wrong path.

No, it was more than that.

After considering this, Marian Baum shuddered. Nussbaum’s criticism had actually made him realize that they were standing at a historic moment for Catacombs.

“I understand. …That said, I never thought of you as an unthinking crowd. But I know there was a flaw in my strategy. I was so focused on persuading you that I never even tried to broaden the audience’s way of thinking. So what you said is fair, Chairman. I accept it.”

Chairman Nussbaum nodded. She closed her eyes for a moment, lost in thought, then opened them again like a machine that had finished organizing every word she needed to say.

“We can divide the meaning of ‘bystander’ into two usages based on how the term is being used in this discussion. Bystander Conduct 1 is simply ‘watching without taking action.’ Bystander Conduct 2 is the legal sense of bystanding, more precisely, aiding a crime through omission. Let us consider Bystander Conduct 2. Given that Bavaria ultimately failed to stop Prussia at the time of the constitutional amendment, one could argue that an omission was established by ‘failing to perform an act that was normatively expected of it,’ and that this kind of ‘bystanding’ has some validity. However, we all know that when the Imperial Chancellor proposed the constitutional amendment and sent the draft to the upper house, that is, the Federal Council, Prussia held seventeen of the fifty-eight seats while Bavaria held six. To prevent Prussia from using its allies to push the amendment past the threshold required for passage, Bavaria could not have done so with its six seats alone. It would have needed to bring another twelve allied votes to its side. Even if Bavaria had brought the Grand Duchy of Baden and the Grand Duchy of Württemberg into an alliance, that would have added only seven votes. Considering this, it is questionable whether Bavaria’s failure to act can truly be considered aiding through omission. However, depending on one’s perspective, it can also be said that Bavaria was indeed negligent in failing to bring more states into an alliance.”

Marian Baum struggled to keep up with her rapid speech, and could only nod silently. He now understood well that although Chairman Nussbaum was a radical, she was thoroughly grounded in reality. As if on cue, Nussbaum brought up the matter at hand.

“Thus far, we have examined whether Bavaria could be considered a bystander ‘at the time’ of the constitutional amendment, and depending on how broadly we define the scope of omission, we can conclude that Bavaria may or may not be considered a bystander state. What is certain is that if Bavaria had possessed enough influence to stop Prussia, then Bavaria, not Prussia, would have become the hegemon of the German Empire. However, I do not entirely fail to understand Chairman Schweitzer’s uncompromising moral argument that ‘even if they could not win, they should have been prepared to fight toward justice, even at the cost of their own destruction.’ But a state simply cannot operate that way. A state must not rush toward its own destruction, because using the power entrusted to it by tens of millions of citizens to commit national suicide is, quite plainly, a breach of that contract. Chairman Schweitzer can apply such a strict moral standard to Bavaria because she places so little value on the safety of anyone outside the Catacombs that she is willing to accept the deaths of Old Human non-mages in a war. But a state governed according to Chairman Schweitzer’s principles would no longer be a legitimate, normal state. Now, we must examine the meaning of ‘perpetual’ bystanderhood.”

“Perpetual.”

Marian Baum now had a feeling that Nussbaum was about to say exactly what he had expected, and, as he had been doing all along, he continued listening as carefully as he could.

“The territory of the Kingdom of Bavaria is Bavaria, not all of Germany. Within Bavarian territory, the Bavarian government protected Old Human mages in defiance of the Imperial Constitution. Violating a constitution is not a matter on the same level as violating a local ordinance. By violating a constitution enacted by Prussia and passed through the ‘reasonably democratic’ decision-making processes of the other states, Bavaria was already willing to risk, however small, the possibility of a German civil war. This makes it clear that the Bavarian government made every possible effort to minimize harm to its own people. As far as its legal obligations are concerned, the Bavarian government had no duty to rescue subjects in other pro-Prussian parts of Germany, nor did Bavaria have the authority to do so, given that the German Empire is a federation. Morally speaking, I do regret that Bavaria could have called upon the international community for help, as Chairman Schweitzer argues. But I believe it would be a mistake to say that Bavaria simply stood by and continued to ignore the problem because it did not do so.”

Up to this point, it had not strayed far from Chairman Schweitzer’s argument and the rebuttal against it. But from this point on, the decisive difference between Committee Chairman Nussbaum’s perspective and Chairman Schweitzer’s became clear.

Marian Baum spoke quietly, wanting to know whether Nussbaum was really about to say what he expected.

“If an act of disobedience based on ‘failing to take action’ can be called bystander conduct, then such bystander conduct is, in effect, a statement of intent. In other words, not acting is itself an action.”

Committee Chairman Nussbaum simply looked at Marian Baum. Knowing that this meant he should continue, Marian checked his watch before speaking.

“I understand, Chairman. Bavaria is a state—a vast organization of power capable of exercising authority. So regardless of whether their inaction stems from indifference, conflicting economic interests, or adherence to their principles, it ultimately takes the form of ‘failure to obey an order.’ And that failure is not truly inaction that has no effect whatsoever on the other party. It is a political expression of opposition, a declaration that Bavaria does not agree with Prussia’s hegemony or its unethical conduct. Bavaria acted unconstitutionally by allowing commoner mages to live freely on Bavarian soil. By disregarding the constitution imposed by Prussia, Bavaria was directly challenging the order of Prussian hegemony. Therefore, Bavaria acted precisely by ‘failing to take action.’ In this sense, Bystander Conduct 1 cannot be applied to Bavaria. This was an act of one power refusing to submit to a greater power. Given the peculiar relationship between Bavaria and Prussia—as a member state and a hegemonic power within a federation, rather than two horizontally equal independent states—this ‘watching without acting’ is not bystander conduct. If two independent states stand on equal footing, non-interference in each other’s unethical conduct may be interpreted as tolerance of that conduct. But in a member state–hegemonic power relationship within a federation, this is not non-interference resembling bystander conduct. It is an act of disobedience, a form of resistance that threatens the hegemonic power’s position and authority by refusing to carry out its orders. Violating the constitution is already closer to resistance than to bystander conduct. Resistance that goes so far as to challenge even the most fundamental principles of the state.”

Committee Chairman Nussbaum merely watched Marian Baum with a cool, piercing gaze. It almost seemed as though she were asking why Marian had spoken that way earlier when he already knew all this. Marian ran his tongue over his lips before continuing.

“I also understand why you said that, strictly speaking, the ‘bystanders’ Janina Schweitzer was referring to should not be the Kingdom of Bavaria, but the one hundred million German citizens. While the concept of civil disobedience can be extended to disobedience between one power and a greater power, the bystanding of ordinary citizens cannot be considered disobedience. In short, the bystanding of citizens does not amount to the kind of insubordination shown by a power like Bavaria, which possesses active decision-making authority—in other words, a failure to obey orders. Rather, their ‘inaction,’ stemming from indifference, ultimately amounts to an act of violence that effectively supports Prussia’s tyranny. As a state power bound to carry out orders, Bavaria’s ‘bystanding 1’ was unconstitutional, whereas the citizens’ ‘bystanding 1’ was constitutional—it was an act of abiding by the Constitution. Co-Chair Janina Schweitzer lumped together forms of bystanding that arose from fundamentally different positions, turning an issue that needed to be examined carefully into one indistinct matter.”

Only then did the chairman nod.

“Then you should now understand precisely why I pointed out your mistake, Mr. Baum. Of course, Bavaria could also be called a bystander for failing to rescue persecuted Old Humans in other states, but that was not Bavaria’s duty, and therefore it was not legally an omission. On the contrary, Bavaria committed an omission toward the Empire by refusing to kill its own commoner mages whom it was supposed to kill. As for whether Bavaria can properly be called a bystander, that is ultimately a difference in perspective arising from the gap between the ways a state can reasonably choose to express a political position and the ways individuals choose to act. That is why we must be wary of using a term that could lead people to believe Bavaria was an absolute bystander. Co-Chair Janina Schweitzer distorted the substance at the most important point of all: in the choice of political terminology. And when you, Mr. Baum, simplified that meaning in order to make it understandable to the masses, you impressed that distortion upon everyone. Bavaria may indeed be a bystander to a radical like the Co-Chair, but the circumstances are too complex for it to be called a bystander in the ordinary sense of the word. If anything, that term is most accurately applied to the one hundred million German citizens who remained silent in the face of the Catacombs’ massacre. Citizens must be able to distinguish these subtle layers of the situation. Otherwise, in a time of turmoil like this, someone seeking to seize power could exploit such disloyalty and easily deceive the masses.”

Chairman Janina Schweitzer was a figure brought into the leadership after Antje Dracher—the existing chairman and the real center of decision-making—and became a representative figure who rallied the Catacombs together. With a fiery command of people, she was skilled at bringing the masses together and moving them to action through forceful and bold language. But that did not necessarily mean her arguments were precise. Sometimes, what was easy to understand and intuitive could stray from the truth precisely because it was so intuitive. Chairman Schweitzer was a politician skilled at presenting people with intuitive images.

To declare the Kingdom of Bavaria a bystander was, when examined closely, a simplification that emphasized only one aspect of a multifaceted situation—a framing strategy that Chairman Schweitzer, as a politician, used both deliberately and inadvertently. It was a problematic element that could spread like wildfire in the very situation of ‘chaos after opportunity’ that Committee Chairman Nussbaum was now concerned about.

The problem was not simply the word ‘bystander.’ It was that the intuitive image so skillfully presented by the politician, Co-Chairman Janina Schweitzer, obscured the complexity of the underlying reality and simplified events into a matter of good versus evil. Chairman Nussbaum was wary of the emergence of Cromwells and Robespierres² who might appear after the Catacombs’ new opportunity. Ultimately, she was analyzing everything with a clear head for the sake of the Catacombs’ well-being, and she wanted everyone to have the ability to do the same.

As Marian Baum thought this through, he strangely felt the heaviness that had weighed on him at first gradually wash away. Words began to rise within him.

Chairman Nussbaum spoke.

“So this is what I want to say. I don’t know whether the Crown Prince will be able to persuade us or not. But if he succeeds in proving himself, I want you, Baum, to explain this directly to the leadership once again.”

“Ha… Me? I understand. It is true that I used a simplification.”

“You’ve brought so many people into the Catacombs that you have considerable standing among them. It will be much more effective coming from you than from someone like me.”

Chairman Nussbaum rose from her seat and continued.

“Even after discussing the flaws in the terminology, I can understand in my heart why the chairman accused Bavaria of being a bystander. But we must be careful about casually using terms that are imprecise and easily misunderstood by others. I like Co-Chairman Schweitzer, and I think very highly of her abilities, but I do not want her to gain power through sharp, intuitive rhetoric.”

“Neither do I.”

“So I would like you to take on that role with me, Baum. I hope that together, we can keep simple and intuitive language from gaining too much influence.”

The rise of simple, intuitive language. Marian Baum silently nodded.

As a radical herself, Chairman Nussbaum naturally had more in common with Chairman Schweitzer. Nussbaum’s overly analytical and pragmatic nature could cause some friction between them, but she agreed with Schweitzer and worked alongside her far more often than not. With Marian Baum holding the opposite political views, there had been little reason for Nussbaum to grow close to him. And yet, she was asking Marian Baum to cooperate with her.

Chairman Nussbaum understood what the enemy within the Catacombs was. She understood the enemy lurking within every kind of society, not just the Catacombs. Earlier, Nussbaum had said that this was also a time of crisis when every sensitive issue, despite being something that needed to be handled with care and close scrutiny, could be treated as carelessly as a cigarette butt tossed down a hillside. She had also said that, with an invisible crisis upon them, she did not want political words to turn the Catacombs into a gathering of the mindless crowd or become seeds of division among them.

“Chairman Nussbaum.”

Marian Baum spoke thoughtfully, his gaze fixed on the empty space before him. He continued.

“You said you still didn’t know how to accept the fact that the Royal Family had given us an opportunity to return to the surface.”

“That’s right.”

“I thought there was no answer except to explain my moderate views as sincerely as I could. Whether one is a radical or a moderate isn’t something that can really be settled through persuasion.”

Chairman Nussbaum, who was beginning to prepare to leave, glanced at her watch before turning toward Marian Baum. Marian, who had been staring into empty space, now looked up at her.

“But I think I’ve found the right answer to the question you asked me.”

Translator Note

1. The Reichsjustizamt was the highest authority of the law in the German Empire from 1877 to 1919. ↩︎
2. Oliver Cromwell and Maximilien Robespierre were radical revolutionary leaders who each executed their nation’s king and established a strict authoritarian regime during a major political upheaval. ↩︎