Chapter 429: Fragile Foundations
On the train from Trieste to Vienna, Ernst sat in his private compartment, gazing at the Austrian countryside. On both sides of the railway, green wheat fields stretched out. Farmers hurried along dirt paths, ox carts hauled goods, and small villages occasionally appeared in the landscape.
The Austrian countryside, Ernst thought, didn't look much different from the Middle Ages. If he weren't on a train, he might not even notice the time period—riding the rails gave him a feeling of being disoriented in time. Rapid development often brought such illusions. The driving force of the Industrial Revolution was rapidly reshaping Europe, and a similar transformation was taking place in East Africa.
...
With railway workers now in place, East Africa's massive rail project officially began. Native laborers were organized into more than twenty contingents to begin clearing the route.
Mountains were blasted, bridges were built across rivers. Under the direction of engineers, the railway corridor was slowly carved out.
North of the Muchinga Mountains was a particular challenge: a large swamp that could not be avoided. The East African government took a crude but effective approach—deploying thousands of African laborers, supervised at gunpoint, to manually drain the swamp using buckets and any available containers.
"The swamp is home to not just hippos and crocodiles, but also venomous snakes and other dangers. It's simply too risky for our trained workers—so we leave it to the natives."
"This area can only be cleared manually. At normal construction speed, it might take months. We must finish before the rainy season, or the water will flood back in."
So, to prevent delays, East African officials forced laborers to work day and night. Their goal: to clear the area within two and a half months.
This was just one example. Similar scenes played out across the central railway project—clearing forests to make way for tracks, blasting boulders, and more.
At the starting point of the railway—the extension of the First Railway—tons of materials were hauled inland on the backs of native workers. Steel rails, each weighing hundreds of kilograms, were moved manually. Any mistake could cause a fatal injury.
To support the railway, East Africa built three new cement plants, twenty-three logging and quarry sites, and a new steel mill in Kalaba, Zambia.
By 1873, East Africa's annual steel output had reached 240,000 tons. Once the Kalaba steelworks was operational, that figure would exceed 300,000 tons.
In fact, the upgraded steel plant in Mbeya alone could produce over 80,000 tons a year—enough to meet a large portion of East Africa's domestic needs.
The total steel required for the railway was around 8 million tons. In comparison, Germany's entire steel production in 1873 was about 3 to 4 million tons. Importing from Germany and Austria could save East Africa a significant amount of money.
Despite ranking high in global steel output, East Africa still lagged behind in coal production—only about 1.5 million tons per year. Germany, meanwhile, was at 27 million, with Britain and the U.S. exceeding 100 million.
However, the global economic crisis would soon shrink steel and coal output across the developed world. East Africa, by contrast, was just entering a period of rapid growth.
Beyond railroads, East Africa's shipbuilding sector also demanded steel. The Bagamoyo shipyard, while unable to build large ironclads, had received orders for over a dozen gunboats—each weighing over 400 tons.
Inland shipbuilding was also expanding. By 1873, East Africa had 37 inland shipyards. Apart from the Great Lakes, demand was strongest in western Zambia and along the Congo River.
Railways and shipbuilding weren't the only industries. A whole chain of new factories would follow, all requiring more and more steel.
These were the basics before the railway was even completed. Once finished, major industrial zones in the south (Zimbabwe) and the development of copper mining in Zambia would allow East Africa to showcase real economic growth—even amid a global depression.
Ernst had even considered launching a Five-Year Plan, hoping to use the economic downturn as a springboard for East Africa's takeoff. But that simply wasn't realistic.
Most people looked at Five-Year Plans and thought, "Even I could do that." In reality, there were only two successful examples: the Soviet Union and the Far East. The USSR's first plan began in 1928, and the Far East's in 1953.
Textbooks make it sound like those plans instantly turned agrarian societies into industrial powers. In fact, Russia already had a robust industrial base: it was the world's fifth-largest textile producer, with thousands of kilometers of rail, thousands of factories, and millions of workers before the USSR existed.
The Far East had a weaker base but benefited from Soviet aid and its own legacy of military and state-owned enterprises. Even so, its transition to industry was slow and painful.
Ernst was sure that even in 1953, the Far East had a better foundation than East Africa did now. It also had more capable leadership. And even with all that, its first Five-Year Plan was hard to pull off.
East Africa? It had only 170 factories, most of which were basic workshops. The education level of the population was far too low to support real industrial growth.
A planned economy depends on plans—and carrying out those plans requires a competent government. If Ernst tried to launch a Five-Year Plan now, the first hurdle would be: where are the people who can implement it?
For agriculture, East Africa's bureaucracy was barely adequate. For industry? It would be hopeless.
Today's industrial workforce still came from Germany and Austria. Every manager in Hechingen factories was either poached or hired from the German-speaking world. The real issue was a shortage of qualified people.
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