Relief of a Publik Tvinga officer leading a regiment of natives. The caption reads "The Promised Land"
is harsh. Despite the best efforts of the indomitable Kongo Society, there are still many parts of the Scandinavian Kongo that are functionally untamed wilderness. What with malaria, yellow fever, numerous other tropical diseases, and occasionally-hostile savages, the ennobling hand of Nordic civilization has reached only so far into the jungle of the formerly-Dark Continent. There are a few people, however, who thrive in these circumstances. Major Karl Mannerheim is one of these. Stockholm's liaison, by the colonial authority, to the Kongo Society-operated
Publik Tvinga (Public Force, or Kongo Defense Commission), Major Mannerheim is a native of Scandinavia. Born in western Finland, Mannerheim is arguably a member of the great tradition of Swedish-emulation in the upper class of Finland. The completion of the Finnish canal system in the 1860's brought an amount of wealth and commerce into Finland that was previously unseen, elevating the middling merchants and tradesmen to positions in high society. Mannerheim has spoken Swedish all his life, better than the regional dialect in his provincial homeland. He greets me with a swift tug on my hand, before adjusting his cap to shield his face from the burning midday sun.
"Herr Mannerheim, on behalf of the Uppsala Gazette, it's an honor to have the opportunity to speak with you about the efforts of the Publik Tvinga."
"I welcome your questions, sir. We aim to inform the public about our efforts, as best as humanly possible. Please, have a seat."
He gestures to a chair, assembled out of a few pieces of wood and cloth, in the style of an antique Roman officer's seat. I sit, and so does Mannerheim, in a chair of similar fashion. On occasion, he turns from our conversation to inspect the rolling forest of tents that surrounds us. This is, after all, a
Publik Tvinga outpost. He is a young man, and we are roughly of the same age. In order to hold such a position of authority, he must have ascended quickly through the ranks, though I don't presume to ask him how he came by his post.
"What is the goal of the Publik Tvinga?"
This answer is shot out with machine-like efficiency. "Like the Kongo Society, the Publik Tvinga aims to civilize the Kongo, for the betterment of its inhabitants and our colonials. We employ citizens of the Empire, of all stripes. You could say that the Publik Tvinga is a citizen, striving for the betterment of his country." he takes a sip of coffee from a pot laid to his right.
"How many people does the Publik Tvinga currently employ?"
Herr Mannerheim pauses. "Unfortunately, I am not at liberty to reveal the actual number of my associates. However, I can tell you that the Publik Tvinga provides employment, food and housing to immigrants from Scandinavia proper, long-term colonial residents of the Kongo, and a select regiment of Kongolese."
It appears I will have to be satisfied with this answer. The actual size of the
Publik Tvinga has long been a question that has never been answered to actual numbers. This is largely presumed to be because of the actual revelation of bureaucratic policy in the number of departments that work within or in tandem with the
Publik Tvinga. Why this information is considered so sensitive for public consumption is not known, but the machinery that keeps the Kongo running is all shrouded in some kind of semi-secrecy. We know, however, that it all works for the betterment of Scandinavia and the people of the Kongo. "How would you describe your operating conditions?"
Herr Mannerheim smiles. "There are those who will tell you that the jungle is like a woman. There are also people who will tell you that the sea is like a woman. I reject this line of thinking; the jungle is like a bear trap. You walk around it, not through it. If you attempt to tackle every obstacle that is thrown in your path, both in terms of terrain and climate and in terms of its inhabitants or whatever your mission might be, you will not come out alive. Accept that some goals are unattainable, and choose your battles, and you will achieve success. In short, our operating conditions are unforgivable, but that is what makes the Publik Tvinga what it is. Call us the Varangian Guard of the Kongo if you like, but every day we simply try to do our jobs."
This attitude is not uncommon of soldiers, especially those who come down from high places to speak to the public. Over the next few seconds, we both adjust in our seats. It is necessary to keep the body moving in this kind of heat. "How do you regard the role of the Publik Tvinga, now that the power of the Kongo Society over the region has been downgraded in favor of the colonial administration?"
"Chancellor Bostrom has been very clear that he considers the Publik Tvinga as an essential part of the maintenance of the policy infrastructure that the Kongo Society has assembled here. The Publik Tvinga will endure, and has endured, hardships of all kinds. Temporal, political, military. The natives have a word, nzere, that means roughly 'the river that swallows all rivers'. It is what they call the Kongo River, and it is what we work to emulate. The river flows onwards, and always has."
"How long have you been working in this capacity?"
"I speak with humbleness towards our government, and the Kongo Society, when I say that I have only recently acceded to my position here. It is not often that a younger officer such as myself has the opportunity to work with such auspicious and hard-driven individuals as the colonial authority, the Kongo Society, and the Publik Tvinga's own soldiers."
"If I could be so bold with my questions, Herr Mannerheim, is there any driving force that inspires you to get up and do..." I look around, and see the vast jungle stretching for miles and miles beyond the camp. Behind me, I know the only real road is at times treacherous, and the railroads are in places makeshift, "...this".
Mannerheim gives me a knowing smile and says, "Well it keeps me out of Scandinavia, eh?" He stands, and I know our interview is concluded. We shake hands, and I prepare to leave with the departing convoy of soldiers, civilians, businessmen and reporters like myself. Hours later, as our wagon train departs into the darkness of the jungle, and the darkening sun fades behind the tall trees, I can only wonder what it is that inspires men to attempt to make a life for themselves in such a harsh landscape. It is people like Major Mannerheim that I can only guess we can thank for our colonies. The heat, the disease, the terrain; this land seems to seethe with vile hatred for humanity. That we have tamed it seems a miracle.
Portrait of Karl Mannerheim and a fellow graduate from the Royal Academy
