HETALIA BELONGS TO HIDEKAZ HIMARUYA

LEOPOLD II, KING OF BELGIUM, WAS A REAL PERSON (1835-1909)

1876

It all started with the man who sat by Belgium's side and whispered into her ear. He was her king, the last of the saga of men who once sworn to take care of her and help her become a powerful nation. At that conference, though, she was not one of the most important nations in the room. There was England, Germany, France, Italy, Russia and Austria and Hungary. Big names. Empires. Powerful countries. On the map, Belgium was ridiculously smaller, and her achievements couldn't barely compare. Some decades had passed after she became independent from her brother Holland, she was prosperous, but it was not enough. Not for her king. His ancestors swore they would make an empire out of her and he was determined to be the one achieving it.

He knew that there was only one way of becoming so powerful. Something practically everyone except Belgium had: colonies.

Leopold had tried to get a colony for her in the past. He had encouraged interviews with Spain to buy his Philippines, but he had refused. His 'girl' was not on sale. Anyway, when Belgium found out about this, she giggled.

"It's alright, Leopold, I don't need a colony. I have been one myself and it is not really a good life. I'm not interested in having one."

Leopold pretended he understood. But she clearly didn't see this would be good to her.

"As you know," Belgium addressed the nations in the room, "Africa is the future. It is so vast and rich it is paradise on Earth. And we just know a small piece of it. Who knows what we might find there. But I don't like to think of ourselves as hyenas who go around eating the weak. The natives have a good heart, and often suffer the cruelty of the white man and his fellowmen, who sells them to the traders."

"That is why we must explore the continent and take care of its treasures and its people making sure this deplorable reality is changed." Leopold continued. "Therefore, I propose to you here and now to create an international association which prevents the Africans from being sold and mistreated, keeps peace between these fratricidal tribes, and helps them acquire our high Christian values, development and civilization, so they stop living in ignorance and darkness. It is in our hands to end this black mark on humanity."

It all started with Leopold II, king of Belgium, and his proposal to found the International African Association.

Africa was definitely the future. Like a wild race, all European countries wanted to explore it and claim its riches. Belgium did not exaggerate when she called it 'paradise on Earth'. The continent was the closest thing to it. Therefore, nations packed their things and joined expeditions, or founded them. Some, like England, who discovered he loved safari hunting, did both. And both brought him luck.

One of the men at the IAA's service, Sir Henry Morton Stanley came to him with the news that he had found something by the fruitful river Congo. A young man who was not a man. Someone special. A nation.

But England was too interested in other matters to do something about this finding. However, when Leopold heard about this, he called Sir Stanley over and hired him himself.

"Tell me more about this Congo nation."

The so-called Congo Free State, known to everyone as simply Congo, was a quite tall, slender nation, of wide nose, short curly hair and golden, kind eyes. He had broad shoulders and big hands and feet, the latter being very useful because there was nothing he loved more than take long walks and explore. It was during these amusement expeditions when he found Sir Stanley, and was introduced to Belgium. She was described as a really beautiful woman, with golden hair, green eyes and skin white as milk, who was interested in him. Her leader, the king, Congo was told, was also very interested in him. He had been told about him and was sure he was a good fellow and would love to meet him someday.

Maybe he would have the chance to travel to Africa and meet him in person at some point, but distance meant nothing. They could still associate.

"Associate?" Congo asked.

"Yes, you know..." The explorer told him. "King Leopold is willing to reach an agreement with you. That's how things work in Africa and in Europe, right?, I do for you and you do for me. The king has seen your land is full of riches and you've got strong people. If you share those with us, we can make you prosperous, and will protect you from those who want to hurt you."

That was how Congo was offered papers to sign which he did not really understand.

France had done it before. Using one of the explorers hired by the IAA, he got one of his explorers to make the natives sign papers which benefited him, the Republic of France, not the association. Leopold saw his chance and instructed Stanley to do the same in his name.

Would Congo had signed them if he knew he was giving the International African Association—King Leopold, actually— his sovereignty over his own home, workforce, all his possessions, in exchange for a piece of fabric every month?

1884

Berlin. There, all the big European boys were cited to solve certain issues regarding the colonization of Africa. Everybody wanted a piece of the cake and it was necessary to make sure no one would use force to steal the others' part. Germany had grown strong and sure wanted to join the game too, and some were very wary about this. There were enough people there, they didn't need younger nations intervening! That was why his chancellor, Mr. Otto von Bismarck, assembled them in order to discuss the partition of the continent.

Congo was surely mentioned in this meeting.

"Your Majesty has really done a remarkable job, converting and taking care of the natives." France said. "You are an angel to them. And so I believe Congo should be under your wing. Does anyone else agree?"

"Yep, I think so." America nodded, and others joined him.

"Very well, thus, we declare the Congo Free State property of king Leopold II of Belgium." Germany declared.

Belgium waited till the meeting was over to talk to her king in private.

"Property...I've never had anyone as property..." She said.

"Relax. I know property sounds like owning a life as if it was a coffee grinder, but it is more like...giving that boy protection, walk together in one common path to progress."

"I don't know, Leopold...I still can't see myself as an owner...I think...I'm not made to be an empire."

"Nonsense. You are perfectly capable. Look, my dear, if you are so unsure about your capacities, why don't you let me take care of young Congo? You won't have to worry about a thing. I have become attached to that boy. I will take care of him and guide him like a father to a son—just like I have been doing to you all these years."

Belgium was still frowning, her head full of doubt.

"...Well, they said he is your property..." She muttered.

In the Constitution created that following year, Belgium added a clause in which she renounced to rule Congo and left his care in the hands of her king. And so, Congo became private property of Leopold II, and he was free to get benefits from him...for him.

The men came soon after. They were known as the Force Publique. The highest ranks were white, Belgian, while the soldiers were from the continent, from Zanzibar and hausas—mercenaries.

The day they came was also the day the women and the children disappeared.

"You want them back?" One of those men said to him, and to the males. "Then start working."

"You can't do that...The king..." Congo complained.

"The king wants you to work, now move, you lazy bum!"

Congo had no choice but to do as he was told. Now he was seeing his mistake, but it was too late to do anything and useless to demand something from those men, who carried weapons he had never had access to. It was suicide.

He and his people worked hard to collect the ivory Belgium needed. He got tons of it, barbaric amounts. He hoped it served to free the women, but he had this ugly feeling inside of his chest...He thought it was the sting of treason, but it turned out to be something else.

When the soldiers allowed some of the women and children to go back home, he saw they had not been properly fed and many of them had died of hunger. The surviving ones had wounds, some of them beyond help. Many women were either traumatized or pregnant, because they had been forced by those men.

Belgium gasped when she was presented the necklace, a beautiful piece of art made of silver and carved ivory.

"Oh, Leopold..."

She let her king put it on around her neck and observed it.

"It's so beautiful..."

"What a queen like you deserves." Leopold smiled.

"This must have been so expensive..."

"Consider it a gift from Congo. He is dying to meet you, you know? He has been told about you and believes you are a goddess. That is why he is showering you in presents."

"Oh, that's so sweet from him..."

"Come on, dog, faster!"

The whip punished that poor man's back, making him scream. He was old, maybe too old for that kind of work, but the soldier had no pity on him and kept hitting him.

"Get up!"

"STOP! PLEASE!" Congo put himself in the way, his arms open, and he received the stinging kiss of the whip.

"Hungary has invited me to have tea. Oh, it's so nice, being someone, not owing anyone anything...!" Belgium smiled, already trying on several dresses to find the most appropriate for such a get-together.

"Things are way better when you have money." Leopold smiled.

"Congo is such a good man. So hardworking...I should send him a little gift, for everything he is doing for us."

"Well, after all, we took him under our protection and brought civilization to him..."

"I told you you would regret it if you didn't meet the quota!"

The man grabbed the little girl's arm with such force he almost seemed he was going to break it. But he was going to do something worse. He grabbed a machete.

"NOOOOO!" The parents of the girl shouted, struggling against the soldiers who were holding them.

"PLEASE! PLEASE!" Congo cried. And their pleas were unheard. The machete fell on the child's wrist and she started howling to the top of her lungs.

Congo dropped on his knees. Just a few hours before, a village had been burnt to the ground for the same reason...not collecting enough ivory.

Leopold presented to the crowd the reformed cathedral, and everyone started clapping, Belgium included. She was looking like a princess, her house had never been so prosperous and beautiful. And it was all thanks to Leopold's selflessness, investing his fortune in her, and only her.

Everyone loved him, but she doubted someone did more than her.

Things started to change by the last years of the century. Ivory was still a very valuable material, but a new one was being demanded by nations everywhere. Rubber. The world had changed and so the means of transport. Bicycles, cars, motorcycles...All these inventions had tires, and what was needed to create them? Rubber.

But rubber was obtained from a specific kind of tree, which grew in Asia, South America and Africa. A tree which grew too slow. Therefore, whoever had the widest extension of rubber trees, had a treasure.

And who had the most trees in all of Africa? Congo.

Therefore, half of his people were required to stop collecting ivory and start producing rubber. A very hard process; and the demands from the Belgian authorities did not help. Often, the Force Publique had to 'encourage' the natives to work.

What better way to make the Congolese work than using their nation?

Some tried to rescue him, and were shot down. Later, the soldiers, to justify spending bullets, had to collect their hands and present them to the authorities.

But first...

"I WILL WORK! WE WILL WORK! PLEASE, NO MORE!" Congo wept.

The officer was not moved. He was even smiling when he cut off his hand. The Congolese covered their eyes and screamed in anguish. Congo held his arm and, screaming, gazed at the space where his hand should have been. It was now lying on the floor. The man picked it up and held it up high, to show it to everyone.

"They say you nations grow your limbs back after a while." He said. "I'd love to debunk this myth. And if it's true...well, that sure had to hurt. You probably won't be messing around again, will you?"

Tears started to come out of Congo's eyes.

Leopold hit the desk, leaving the paper on it.

"Unbelievable! What's all this? Who let this happen? Villages destroyed! My soldiers wasting bullets on having fun with the natives! Rape! Dead people everywhere! I am going to have someone hanged for this! I don't want my hands to be filled with blood! Missionaries are looking at me like I am the Antichrist! You have no idea of what it is taking me to silence all of these people! But the figures I am getting...Oh, no! This must be stopped! But I am telling you something: I don't want Belgium to know about this. Understood? Not one word!"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Leopold dropped himself on the chair and glanced at the letter again.

"The hands! The hands, precisely! The only thing I need from Congo!"

Leopold did everything he could to prevent anyone to know about this. Belgium, the press, the Church...He bribed all he could, gave generous donations...But it was too late: some were already too interested in what was happening.

1903

England knew he had not been a saint to his colonies. He was their master, not their friend. 'Cruel to be kind', that was his motto. But he did not think of himself as a monster. There were lines he would have never crossed. First, America sent him newspapers from his house which talked about what was going on in Congo. Then, some of his own people told him personally. He saw the photos, of the amputees, even small children.

"Goodness gracious..." He muttered, and immediately after put his coat on. "I need to see Belgium. Now."

He made his way to the small country and asked for an urgent interview with Belgium. Such hurry alarmed her.

"Did something happen? I didn't even have the time to..."

"Do you know what is going on with Congo? Do you?" England directly asked her. "Your king has fooled you. He has fooled us all."

"...What?"

"So he has been hiding you...The cut hands, the dead children, the rapes, the extenuating labor..."

England paused and gazed upon the rich room he was in. The chess board on the table with ivory pieces. The luxurious furniture. Her clothes. The necklace.

"...Or maybe you do and just look away..."

Belgium frowned.

"If you came to insult me, or my king, I will show you the door right this instant." She said.

"Did you know all these things you own are stained with Congo's blood?"

"Ha! Are you really going to give lessons to me? You? We all know how you treat your colonies! You act like Big Brother UK and are nothing but an enslaver! My people are doing charity in Africa! You are saying those bad things about me because you don't like to look at yourself in the mirror! You need someone to point at that it's not you!"

"I am not the only one who says it. America knows. South Africa knows." England replied.

"I hope you made all the way here to taste my chocolate and watch my monuments because I do not wish to see you any longer. Come on. Get out of here. I am not going to let you insult me in my own house."

"Very well. I'm leaving." England spitefully stood up and made his way to the door. "But you really should have a frantic talk with your king. Just friendly advice."

"I didn't ask you for it."

England got out of the room, leaving Belgium alone with her thoughts...her terrible thoughts.

Then, she made her way to Leopold's office, where he was arranging papers.

"Leopold!"

"Oh, hello, Belgium. How about we go take a walk with the children after I finish...?"

"Is it true? Are you forcing Congo to work for me?"

Leopold raised his head from his paperwork and found Belgium staring at him, pale as one of those sheets.

"Is it?" She insisted.

There was a long pause. Leopold sighed and stood up.

"...My men turned out to be savage...Congo accepted working for me, but I promise I never wanted things to get out of hand...like this...But they are exaggerating, my dear. How could they kill so many people? Sure it had to be a flu, some disease they were not ready for...Those people...they are just jealous, because they see you got so prosperous so quick..."

Belgium, mute, placed her hand on the necklace around her neck to ease her spinning head.

England returned home but did not forget about this matter. Along with nations like America and famous people like Arthur Conan Doyle, Mark Twain and Joseph Conrad, he created the Congo Reform Association, and worked to give Congo the dignity he deserved and free him from such barbaric treatment. Europe and America collaborated together pressuring Belgium and his king. His mask as a philanthropist had fallen. Many claimed this to be one good reason why humans shouldn't own nations as property. Congo had to be with someone who understood that he was not a tool, or workforce, but something deeper, more delicate. He had to be in Belgium's hands.

It took several years of negotiations for Leopold to bequeath Congo to Belgium. It was more of a purchase, because in exchange he was given 50 million francs as a compensation, as well as 45.5 to the bond holders. Congo became Belgian Congo in 1908. One year before Leopold died of an intracerebral hemorrhage.

1909

The documents concerning Congo's management had disappeared. That was Belgium's conclusion after searching for long. She would soon get a servant to confess to her that he had ordered all files to be burnt because 'no one had the right to know what he did there', not even her. What he did leave behind was the Museum of Congo, for everyone to know about the progress his nation had brought to the African and the economic possibilities.

Now Congo's safety and well-being was on her hands. That was what having a colony was about, she understood. The African would soon disembark from the ship and she felt so nervous. It was like meeting a brother, a servant, a...a...how was she supposed to feel about a colony? She never wanted one in the first place. But it was profitable for sure. She might as well keep it, she concluded. She couldn't leave him alone, now that he was learning useful things, becoming a Christian and Europeanized. He would have been left at the mercy of stronger, crueler nations. If she renounced to all money she was getting from him now...

But she was going to make sure things were well done this time. She promised herself. She would be the angel Congo thought she was. Someone who wanted to help him after all. It was all Leopold's fault. Not hers. She never wanted to hurt him. Together, they could do great things.

She didn't recognize Congo until they were introduced. Someone told her that the thin, shabby, sad looking young man in front of him was not a worker who was helping , but the nation she was expecting. They both gazed at each other. His eyes seemed so empty, so deprived from all light...He was not happy to see her. He was not happy about anything. Because the pain was still there. His people were still suffering the gratuitous violence of the mercenaries. And a stump stayed where his hand should have been.

Belgium placed a hand on her ivory necklace for comfort, until Congo cast his eyes upon it. Then, she took her hand out of it.

THE END