NationStates Jolt Archive

It was hard to recognise the Oireachtas building in the months since the end of the Civil War. When Fiefdom tanks had rolled into the square outside, their commanders had viewed a scene of destruction that had not been scene in the civilised quarters of Europe since the Second World War. Civil War, and forty years of neglect, had certainly taken its toll on Freetown. People lived in hovels, carved from the rubble of once mighty factories. Grand townhouses, once the preserve of the elite of the Finaran occupation, were now overcrowded with wretched families. Buildings stood like broken teeth, surrounded by decay and degradation.
What made it worse, some said, was the fact that Kaitan-Leagran had fallen from such a height. For all that people resented the Finarans, they had given the island the first period of sustained growth in its history, and this small and dusty island had, for the first time, something akin to a future. And Freetown had once stood as a testament to that, being transformed from a poor fishing village into an impressive colonial city in a generation. And no building expressed the misplaced optimism that the Oireachtas, with its grand corridors, triumphant paintings and general gilded magnificence. That, of course, was all lost now. The dome, once rumoured to be the largest in the Western Atlantic, was almost completed collapsed, it’s mosaics and galleries now being the preserve of the sea gulls. The Dáil Chamber was a complete mess, with only the Seanad being remotely serviceable. The building, like the capital in particular and the country at large, had collapsed, its glory forever confined to the past.
Or was it? The building today was obscured today totally by scaffolding, as teams of engineers, workers and artisans laboured night and day to turn back the hand of time. That which could not be saved was, thanks to photographs and plans in the Finaran archives, replicated. The Provisional Government had not been prepared to change even the tiniest feature of the building, much to the disappointment of those in the International Assistance Agency of the Western Atlantic who had hoped that a fresh start would be for the best. The Oireachtas was, once again, to be the shining ornament of the island, and the heartbreak and anguish of the previous decades were to be expunged, architecturally if not culturally.
The Oireachtas, however, was only a building. No building, no matter how grand, could inspire unity in a nation more prone to division. No city, no matter how beautiful, could create a pan-communal identity that would sweep Kaitan-Leagran into the modern world. No, that required something different, thought the Provisional Government. What was needed was still an ornament, but not something as material as buildings or plazas. In short, what was needed was a king.
Now picking a King is not a particularly simple affair, as any historian knows. You must first decide on what makes a sovereign a sovereign, for to make the provisions too wide is to invite criticisms of illegitimacy, while too high is to exclude all but the most purple-blooded. And even when a suitable candidate is found, one can never be entirely sure if the choice will be correct in the long-term. Today’s excellent father will inevitably in a monarchy result in tomorrow’s incompetent son. Further, no matter the private qualities of a potential monarch or dynasty, some royal families never properly ‘fit-in’ with a nation. The Royal House of Denmark, for example, has spawned the monarchies of Norway and Greece. Norwegians continue to possess a kingdom, the Greeks do not.
So the Provisional Government, in its wisdom, decided to hold a contest. As first-steps went, Kaitan-Leagran’s was not particularly impressive. Some Royal Houses expressed an interest, but then failed to act. Others, however, considered such a ‘competition’ to be beneath the dignity of monarch, an act so oxymoronic as to be bordering on the ludicrous. Candidates did arise, however, providing some manner of vindication to the Kaitan-Leagrans. These men, such scions of respected and well-established Royal Houses, had duly travelled to the island, been extensively interviewed and, in order to keep matters as civil as possible, politely instructed to return to their homes. In the immortal words of the Hollywood Agent, the Provisional Government would call them in due course.
The real work of choosing a king, therefore, only occurred when the last candidate had packed his belongings into his private aeroplane and jetted off into the cool air of the Gulf of Vasconia. Some of this work, of course, was the formal distribution of individual Curriculum Vitae, interview notes, character assessments etc. Other work, however, was simple political horse-trading. Diplomats from each of the major ethno-religious groups were ferried from headquarter to headquarter, painstakingly building a consensus behind a candidate, any candidate, only for their efforts to be squandered at the last moment by a seemingly random objection from one side or other. The House of Cards having fallen, the work would begin again.
While such political manoeuvring was taking place, life in Kaitan-Leagran went on. Yet, the longer such deliberations took, the increasingly frustrated the people became. Kaitan-Leagrans had, after all, been embroiled in the melting pot of civil war for years, and therefore resented further, somewhat petty, squabbling. To make matters worse, rumour began to circle the capital of a militia group that had never disbanded after the war, and now operated with impunity. The conversion of former militants of the major factions into peacetime policemen and soldiers was lengthy, and costly, and many wondered if the old forces had been disbanded too quickly. Yet the largest complaint of all regarded the political stalemate, for it had been generally accepted before the competition that fresh elections would be held once a monarch had been chosen. The longer the politicians argued over the respective merits of Lord-Minor Sturm compared to Crown Prince Damoen, it appeared to many, the longer the Provisionals would remain in power unchallenged.
Finally, however, by mid-July, the long negotiations seemed to produce a resolution. In a document that could not be noted for its conciseness, the factions provisionally agreed to the supremacy of the Crown Prince of Aerion as King, but with countless provisions to specify the succession and just who was, and was not, acceptable to Kaitan-Leagrans. All that was required, in theory, was a simple vote by the Council of Elders...

Seanad Chamber, Palace of the Oireachtas
Meeting of the Council of Elders, Kaitan-Leagran Provisional
Government

The Council of Elders had rarely met over the course of the Provisional Government’s lifetime. Though it was not a particularly large body, consisting of around 90 members, much of the decision-making was made by the leaders of the three ethno-religious communities, acting as spokesmen and directors of their own factions.
That said, the absence of the Council was no great hardship for the country. Since each faction had appointed its own members, council members were either sycophantic young clergymen in search of promotion, or embittered elders fresh from the remote villages. Dissension was, therefore, unheard of, a foreign abnormality that had been imposed upon the noble people of Kaitan-Leagran/Anacea/New Deasrargle [delete as applicable]. In short, therefore, there really wasn’t much point in the Council.
The 90 or so delegates of this esteemed organ of state sat among the once-grand (and soon-to-be-grand) confines of the Seanad Chamber. The Chamber, like the building itself, was designed to be a grand statement about the Finaran presence on the island and was one of the last buildings constructed during the ‘Golden Age’ of 1900-1930. Even as the last wallpaper was being applied to the committee rooms, the Great Depression was sweeping across the world, bringing to an end the aspirations and dreams of many, and Kaitan-Leagran in particular. By the time the Depression was over, Protestant terrorism had resulted in martial law, and the beginning of the end of the Finaran occupation was in sight.
Built with a surprising degree of foresight in regards to modern political seating, the Seanad was built in a semi-circle, with the ceiling being dominated by three Arabesques, each possessing an allegorical figure of the Kaitan-Leagran that never was. The chamber also possessed a cacophony of expensive materials, with Finaran walnut for the benches, ebonised mahogany on the pillars and Canadian glass in the ceiling lighting units. The walls of the Chamber were also decorated with panels of Finaran Damask Linen, with the muddy green/brown of the Kaitan-Leagran flag being pinned rather forlornly above the speaker’s chair. The room had, despite the tribulations of the past, survived rather well and only minor work had been required to make it serviceable.
The same, however, could not be said for the rest of the building, with the whine of drills and banging of hammers signified the frenzy of restoration work underway. Despite the best efforts of the newly appointed Oireachtas Staff, dust from the work coated everything, simmering even in the morning light as it shined through the chamber’s windows. The men of the Provisional Government, however, were more than aware that, regardless of the setting, the hand of history was on their shoulders. Here was to be the dawn of a new age, and the birth of a great nation. And few but the most cantankerous could fail to be moved by Bishop Patrick O’Neill’s opening speech to this most momentous occasion.
“We are now all Kaitan-Leagrans--not Pantocratorians, Finarans, Deasrarglanns, nor Protestant, Orthodox and Catholic--and as Kaitan-Leagrans we must feet behave and act, and we should be proud to be known as Kaitan-Leagrans and nothing else."
At the close of his speech a spontaneous burst of applause emerged from the assembled delegates, as each man realised that the quest for a King was a quest for a national identity in which every man, woman and child could feel pride in. A nervous energy filled the room, therefore, when the Speaker of the Council of Elders made this way to the podium to bring the measure to a vote.
“Ladi…I mean Gentlemen,” corrected the Speaker in accented English at the complete absence of women. The Speaker had been chosen by the Council from the International Assistance Agency of the Western Atlantic in order to be as impartial as possible, and thus the speaker was a relatively young logistics officer from Otiacicoh. Straightening his uniform, the officer scanned over his notes and cleared his throat.

“As I was saying, I believe that, if there are no more delegates wishing to speak, it is now procedure for the Council to pass Amendment 476 to the Constitution of Kaitan-Leagran. Now this amendment would allow the person of His Royal Highness Crown Prince Regent Damoen Wasterin to the Office of ‘King of Kaitan-Leagran’, which this Amendment would also create, with this Office being empowered to sign all legislation presented to it by the Oireachtas, that being the Dáil and the Seanad in concordance with Amendment 284, and that the Office of King would also entail the ultimate ceremonial leadership of all armed forces and…”
The low murmur that had broken out only a few seconds before (and which the Speaker had dismissed as excitement) had now risen to loud and agitated discussion, with some voices rising from the hubbub to question ‘what the hell he was doing’. The Speaker, looking up from his papers to see what the commotion was, found himself looking into the face of Reverend Darragh Fitzjohns, Moderator of the Presbyterian Synod of Freetown. The Moderator smiled a wide and not particularly pleasant smile.

“Thank you, Ciuacoatl, that will be all for now,” said the Moderator in a calm voice.

“With all respect, sir,” came the Speaker’s reply, “The allotted time for debate has ended. Perhaps you should…”

“No, Ciuacoatl, what I have to say really cannot wait,” said the Moderator. Before the Speaker could react, Fitzjohns extended his arm and, with surprisingly little force, was able to force Ciuacoatl into his seat. The Otiacicohan watched in numb silence as the Moderator positioned himself behind the Speaker’s podium.

“Gentleman and honoured colleagues of the Council,” began the Moderator in an eerily calm voice, “Please allow me a few moments.”

“You had a few moments before Fitzjohns," came an angry voice from the delegates, "What the hell do you want now?"

"Please," said the Moderator, his voice still cold and emotionless, "I beg only to expound my own views in the same way as my colleague, the Bishop."

A confused and discontented silence fell across the room, as men looked at one another and the Moderator as the bizarre scene unfolded.

"After all, it would be unfair to future generations if I were not to formally express my views on this amendment, and unfair to my constituents."

"And what is your opinion?" asked the same angry voice.

"Why, that this amendment is a crock o'shit. This amendment is the biggest pile of nonsense I have ever had the displeasure of reading. It is wrong and misguided on so many levels that I can scarcely begin to count them and, furthermore..."

By now the assembled delegates had risen to their feet, almost all of them shouting abuse at the moderator. A barrage of noise that further assaulted the Speaker, pinning the poor man evermore into the green leather upholstery.

"And furthermore," said the Moderator in a voice that was louder if still cold, "I cannot allow it to continue."

"And how are you going to stop it?" bellowed Stylianos Amesimeku of An Bealach Bui, jabbing a figure at the Moderator.

"Why, with this."
With the slightest of nods, the doors to the chamber were thrown open and the heavily armed core of the Sons of the Second Republic stormed into the room. Any councilmen still sitting jumped to their feet, as confusion, bewilderment and terror swept the room.

"Quiet the lot of you," shouted a masked gunman, firing his AK-47 into one of the decorative Arabesques in the ceiling. An angry silence fell over the Council.

"What the hell is this?" cried Bishop O'Neill, "What do you think you are doing?"

"Why," said the Moderator with a crocodile-like smile, "this is a coup d'état. I am afraid to say that I could not allow so wretched a piece of legislation to go through, so I was forced to utilise these forces to achieve my objectives."
Some Council members looked ready to shout down the Moderator for this confession, though the guns of the militants served to hold their tongues.

"I mean," said the Moderator, still smiling, as he picked up the papers from which the Speaker was reading just a few moments ago, "Please...a King, now? Who were you kidding? Nonsense, a flippancy that we could well do without. People are starving out there, and you debated how to feed some bloated aristocrat. People need real leadership and you debated giving it away to some toff. Well I have rectified that situation. Now it is I who will dictate how things proceed, I who will provide the strong hand the country needs. Welcome, my friends, to the Protestant Republic of Kaitan-Leagran."

Horrified gasps emerged from the crowd, though not from all. The supposed leader of the terrorists turned to the Moderator.

"I thought you said we would use 'New Deasrargle, not the papist name." he hissed.

"Things have changed Seamus," said the Moderator, "WE cannot turn back the clock to the Second Republic. The new Republic will be inclusive, and the power-sharing agreements of the old constitution will be retained."

"Sharing power?" spat the terrorist leader, "With Papists and Fornicators? You must be out of your focking mind, as I never signed up to this. We're returning to the good old days, Reverend, whether you like it or not."

"I see," said the Moderator in a quiet voice, "I am sorry you feel that way Seamus." Suddenly, with speed that few thought the clergyman capable of, the Moderator produced a pistol from his Geneva robe and, with a carefully aimed shot, put a bullet between the balaclava eyes of the terrorist, who scarcely had time to swear. His body continued with the momentum of the bullet for a few inches before twitching as his brains were forcibly emptied onto the restored carpet, his body crumpling like a rag doll.

"Now," said the Moderator, "I trust that no one else will voice disagreements such as this." Being greeted with silence, the moderator calmly placed the gun onto the podium.

"I am sorry that you all had to see that," he said in a vaguely paternal voice, "But, as you can see, some instruments are blunter than others."

"How," gasped the O'Neill, "How could you?"

"How?" said the Moderator with a sickly smile, "Why it was easy. Making sure that I controlled the selection of staff to the Oireachtas meant that I could ensure loyal men and women, duly briefed of their goals, and were placed in the right position. Then, using the fact that I was able to direct police operations, I ensured that the Sons of the Second Republic were always one-step ahead of the forces of law and order. And then, well, smuggle them into the building and wait for the moment."

"This is just madness," said Stylianos, taking a few cautious steps towards the podium, "What do you hope to achieve? The Police or the Confederals will be here shortly and then what will you have achieved? Nothing!"

"Oh please Stylianos," said the Moderator with a dismissive wave of his hand, "Do you really think that this is it? My word no, this is the tip of the iceberg. I have been building a variety of contacts across the communities, drawing in like-minded men who want real change and not just talk. Make no mistake, the Protestant Republic is in name only, isn't that right Bryan?"

The delegates turned to watch a young Catholic clergyman emerge from the crowd. He was young, no older than 30, with a crop of blond hair that was parted down the side. He walked with confidence, past his peers, past the armed guards and past even the Moderator. Reaching up, he pulled down the old green flag and, with a little effort, tore it into fragments before the horrified assembly.

"How could you?" muttered the Bishop, "You have betrayed us all!"
Worse, however, was yet to come, for the priest then produced a new flag from within his cassock. The new flag was orange, a distinct shade of orange, and was arranged in the same way as that of Pakistan, except the moon and crescent being replaced with a large white cross. Using the aid provided by two Sons of the Second Republic, the priest hammered the new flag into the wall above the chair. His task complete, and smiling like a jackal, he turned to his Bishop.

"Some of us," he said in a cruel and pitiless voice, "Believe in progress."

Suffice it to say that the Eternal Republic chose not to bother mincing matters…

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International Press Release – Ministry of Foreign Affairs
The Eternal Republic of Xirnium

Tárië Ambârmentë Laë Nainányéna! – To Last Ten Thousand Years!

Number:

1278-199-07

Date:

Wednesday, 18 July 2007


The Xirniumite Government and sovereign Parliament of Xirnium have recently become aware that a military coup d’état has occurred in the troubled nation of Kaitan-Leagran. Whilst various important details continue to remain unknown or unclear, the Eternal Republic has nonetheless been deeply troubled by these reports.

It has always been the practice of the Xirniumite state to unequivocally condemn any process seeking to overturn a government by unconstitutional or undemocratic means. The concept of changing governments by putsch or revolution simply no longer has a place in our modern world. For these reasons the Eternal Republic denounces the latest developments in Kaitan-Leagran.

Xirnium adds her voice to those of others in the international comity, urging that the instigators of the coup immediately step down and allow the return of the provisional government. All political and military actors in this unfortunate affair should work to resolve their differences peacefully and through open dialogue, in accordance with Kaitan-Leagran’s constitutional principles and democratic aspirations.

[Signed]

Her Ladyship and Grace
The Right Honourable the High Well Born the Most Noble and Puissant Princess
Lady Eléanor Sabëlinà, Countess of House Numêsalquó
Minister of Cabinet for Foreign Affairs and High Lady of Parliament
The Sovereign Parliament of the Eternal Republic of Xirnium

"So you see, Gentlemen, that everything has proceeded exactly as I have designed. The best way to advance under the new order is to accommodate it, as I am sure you all will." said the Moderator; clapping his hands together in the same way that one would catch a small fly.

"You'll never get away with this," shouted O'Neill, "Just because you have convinced some fellow-traitors that your Protestant Republic is even remotely credible, Stylianos is right, how do you expect to get away with this. The Confederals aren't going to allow another descent into civil war, which is exactly what you are proposing."

"And if you're going to be sectarian about this," said the Orthodox Bishop of An Bealach Bui, rising to his feet once again, "Then WE have factions. WE can stop this madness, if it comes down to it."

For an instance the Moderator's smile vanished, only to be replaced once again with that cruel, self-satisfied smirk.

"The Confederals will be dealt with in time," he said, with only the slightest hint of hesitation in his voice, "But as for your 'factions'..."

The Moderator allowed the sentence to hand in the air and, even though it was only a few seconds, an eternity seemed to pass before he reached into a pocket of his cassock and produced a pristine white envelope with a noticeable red wax seal on the back. He handled it as though handling some ancient scroll or sacred text, before handing it to a young terrorist to his right.

"If you could be so kind as to give His Grace his letter, I am sure it will make interesting reading."

The masked gunman hesitated slightly, not knowing whether to lower his gun or even if to avenge his fallen commander, before lowering his rifle and taking the envelope. He turned it several times, marvelling at the shade of white not known on an island with dust and dirt, and even cast a finger across the wax seal, which appeared to have been stamped with some manner of double-headed eagle. Distracted for a moment, he shook his head as though to dispel such thoughts and, adopting a stern look (wholly unnecessary as he was wearing a mask, but nonetheless useful) passes the letter forcefully to the confused Bishop.

Stylianos Amesimeku knew, of course, where the letter had come from. He even knew who had written it. But why such a letter was here, and especially in the hands of that devil Fitzjohns. He carefully tore the seal and read the contents:


To: Stylianos Amesimeku "of An Bealach Bui"

Your Grace,

As a man of God, and a dedicated son of the Church, I know that you possess and sound and thorough knowledge of the Holy Scriptures. These works, together with the teachings of the Ecumenical Councils, form the bedrock and basis of our faith and have guided our Church in the tribulations of the past and shall continue to shape our efforts in the years to come.
It is with this in mind, therefore, that I would direct your attention to the first verse of the Book of Ezra, when Cyrus proclaims that the Hebrews may return to the Promised Land. What I wish to say, or rather what I would like you to understand, is that the Lord has, on occasion, used bloody warriors like Cyrus to do His Will. It is for this reason that you now read this letter.

When I arrived in An Bealach Bui, some three years ago, I had been dispatched by His All-Holiness in order to lead the faithful of Anacea and to guide them according to Church Teachings. You, however, had claimed (with no authority from the Holy and Sacred Synod of the Ecumenical Patriarchate) to hold that position and, what's more, you implicitly refused to step-down. This has created the unfortunate position whereby, in contravene of canon law, two bishops existed for the same Diocese. Such an assault upon the dignity of His All-Holiness and the Holy Synod would be outrageous enough, were it not also for the fact that you were, and continue to be, involved with the terrorist group 'The Pantocratorian Crusade for Anacea'. That you, a servant of the Prince of Peace, can undertake to do such things is beyond my comprehension.

However, for the sake of the church and the faithful, I tolerated this situation. I worked, to the best of my abilities, on those areas of work that you had so kindly allowed me to undertake. Such a scenario, however, cannot be allowed to continue indefinitely. To be blunt, one of us would have to go in order that the Church in Anacea may rebuild. For a long time I had, alas, suspected that this would be me. Now, however, a solution has presented itself.

Enclosed with this letter are details of your new posting, which, I am led to believe, are in a quiet monastery in the countryside around Drakopolis. I do not have to tell you that I am exceedingly envious of this, for the trials and tribulations of Anacea make me long for the quiet and orderly life. But, alas, such things are not to be. I can only wish you the very best of luck in your return to the Empire, and you shall remain (as always) in my prayers.

Yours in Christ

Eugenios of An Bealach Bui

P.S. As this order has come from the self-same Holy Synod that appointed me, I feel it best that you obey it. Unless, of course, you wish to be a schismatic.



“This…this is an outrage,” spluttered Stylianos when the ability to speak finally returned to him, “This is betrayal of the grossest kind!”

“What is it,” said the Moderator, “is ecclesiastical policy. I have already taken the liberty of having a car wait outside for you. Don’t worry about your belongings, they have already been despatched to your new posting. I feel that a round of applause is necessary for our Brother who has now been so rightfully rewarded by his Mother Church.”

The Moderator clapped, at first to himself but them falteringly, by others in the chamber, as two men approached the former Bishop and began to guide him towards the door.

“You’ll never get away with this,” said Stylianos as he threw off the grasp from the terrorists, “I’ll return one day. His All-Holiness will learn of this outrage and then it is YOU who will spend the rest of yours days in confinement. The confinement of a prison! You hear me, a pri..”

The ‘-son’ was lost as the bishop was forcibly ejected through the ornate mahogany doors of the Seanad Chamber.

“Now then,” said the Moderator, returning his attention to his Catholic counterpart, “Where were we? Oh yes, our dear friend Bishop O’Niell.

“You have no piece of paper with my removal,” said the Bishop with a nervous defiance, “No one has ordered me away,”

“Well,” said the Moderator with a look akin to a player being sent from the field in full knowledge that his team has already won the match, “I confess that I was unable to locate anyone with your Diocese willing to push you out in the same manner as our friend, the former Bishop of An Bealach Bui, but I am reasonably convinced that our little demonstration has, at the very least, persuaded you of the validity of this arrangement.”

“Which might be all very well,” said a voice from the crowd, “But you have yet to convince us that you possess an iota of international support for all this.”

“True, true,” said the Moderator, “And I acknowledge full well that Confederal troops are no doubt already on their way to arrest me now, which is why the time approaches for my surrender.”

“Surrender?” gasped O’Neill, “you mean, you intend to hand yourself in?”

“Why of course,” said the Moderator with an evil smile, “I believe that I am at least guilty of murder. And conspiracy as well. It is not the end I had originally hoped for, but one plays with the cards that one is dealt with.”

“Then what was the point of all this?” said O’Neill, “What was the point of the guns, the murder, the removal of Amesimeku if you have achieved nothing?”

“Now now,” said the Moderator, “Have I achieved nothing? I believe that I have convinced the people that I took action where no one else dared. I have ploughed through the deadlock and confusion by making a clear manifesto of the future of our great land. And, if nothing else, I have at least made myself a martyr to a New Kaitan-Leagran.
Now I had wished, of course, that I could have guided this from here. But, if I am to confess an error in all of this, it is that I should never have allowed Peacekeepers here. They would never allow such a thing. But, we all make mistakes, and it is how we deal with them that separates us from the animals.

And gentlemen please. Do you honestly think that you can proceed with the old plans after all this? If you do, then you are as naïve as I suspected. No, you will have to take my plans, or suffer the wrath of the people. The Protestant Republic will always survive, it just may not be in the way I imagined.”

The Moderator stopped and looked about the chamber.

“And if you excuse me, I have a date with destiny.”

And with that, the man who orchestrated so much evil, calmly and quietly collected his belongings and went to face whichever platoon of soldiers arrived first.

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New Constitution Ratified in Kaitan-Leagran

After a week of dramatic developments, members of the Provisional Government of Kaitan-Leagran finally ratified a new constitution last night amidst continual unrest following the attempted coup by the former Moderator of the Presbylutheran Church of Kaitan-Leagram, the Reverend Dr. Darragh Fitzjohns.

The turmoil and confusion caused by Fitzjohns and the Protestant Terrorist Organisation The Sons of the Second Republic nearly proved disastrous for the fledging peace on the island, and credit must be given to the Council of Elders in attempting to find any sort of solution.

Despite the bloodshed, and despite international condemnation of Fitzjohns' actions, many on the island admired the former Moderator's ruthlessness and a growing pan-confessional section of the populous had called for the instigation of the Protestant Republic as Fitzjohns had imagined it. Speaking last night on the steps of the Palace of the Oireachtas, the recently appointed President of Provisional Government, Eamonn ó Gallchobhair, rejected such a move, however.

"No legitimate, democratic and free system can ever be recreated by an act of unwarranted violence." Elements of what many are calling the Fitzjohns Proposal have, however, found their way into the new constitution.
"While I totally deplore the Moderator's actions," said ó Gallchobhair last night, "He did, at least, reveal a deep anxiety over the initial draft constitution. And, after all, even madmen can be right at times."

The new constitution, to be passed by a referendum next week, drops any mention of a Monarch and instead replaces this with the more politically neutral "Bailiff". The Provisional Government has also opted to retain Fitzjohns' Flag and 'Protestant' prefix, though retains the bulk of the old constitution's D'Hondt power-sharing agreement.

"If passed," said ó Gallchobhair, "We would hope for elections within a month at most. The people of Kaitan-Leagran have gone through much in recent times, but I am confident that our time in the sun has now arrived.

Rumours continue to persist over who will be chosen for the office of Bailiff, though ó Gallchobhair would not be drawn on the question.

"If the events of the last week have taught us anything, it is that an occupation with the things delays matters and prevents the real change that people want. If this constitution is passed, then we will discuss who it is that becomes Bailiff."

Many Commentators are adamant that the position will be offered to Baroness Sahana Saandeep of Euphosor. "Nobody else is even being discussed," said one source close to the Provisional Government, "Their only concern is whether she will say yes after all this trouble."


Continued on Page 4

Kaitan-Leagran: Election Day

It had been accepted by the remains of the Provisional Government that elections would be needed, and soon. The confusion caused by the Moderator's attempted coup continued to reverberate around the capital and no one man or cause arose from the maelstrom to take the charge. Democracy, it was hoped, would provide at least some manner of stability and allow, finally, the Governance of the island to cease being 'Provisional'.

It was for this reason, therefore, that no plans were made for any national referendum on the proposed constitution. The Council of Elders, supported by some members of the international community (in particular Otiacicoh, who wished for any sort of solution to a problem that still caused headaches in Port Sunlight), argued that the people's participation in elections would be guarantor of the system's legitimacy. If they voted, they surmised, they must also be happy for what they were voting for.

Yet, as the election campaign began to stutter into life, it also became clear to the wise heads of the Provisional Government that the retention of the old constitution's extensive power-sharing framework was necessary for any manner of functioning state to exist. The main ethno-religious groups were, despite the best efforts of the IAA and others, still far too divided for any manner of pan-communal consensus. The traditional parties of right and left simply exist on Kaitan-Leagran, and those that attempted to create them were confined to the furthest edge of the political landscape.

In the centre of politics sat the militias in a newly democratic veneer. And while it would seem ironic, if not blatantly foolish, for people to vote for the same powers that had maintained the exhaustive civil war, voters were loyal to their community and stayed with what they knew. The only worry was whether the parties, now having obtained elective legitimacy, would work together. Though the choice was between compromise and a return to the dark days. Most people crossed their fingers and hoped for the best.

New Deasrargle Herald
Election Results 2007
High turnout as voters back the status quo
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If yesterday's results produced anything unexpected, it was the rare sight of all Kaitan-Leagran citizens queuing calmly to cast their votes for the first time in the island's history. The predicted violence from unreconstructed paramilitaries was, thankfully, nowhere to be seen thanks to the large security presence of I.A.A. soldiers and members of the newly created National Army. Yet if onlookers hoped for anything other than the reinforcement of communal divide they were sadly disappointed as voters followed religious lines and voted for the sectarian parties. The Democratic Protestant Party was able, thanks to the slight majority of Presbylutherans, to win the largest share of the vote, guaranteeing its leader, Gearoid Stiobhard, the top job as First Minister. It seemed likely from the very moment that polling stations opened, however, that he would be sharing with his former enemies from the Confession of St. Teresa of Avila and the Pantocratorian Crusade for Anacea, both now renamed as Fianna Kaitan-Leagran and the People's Orthodox Rally respectively. The outgoing "premier", Eamonn ó Gallchobhair, said last night that he was confident of the long-term success of democracy and that the major parties would now work together "to heal the deep divides in society" and "lead Kaitan-Leagran into the sun". Mr Stiobhard, speaking at his party's gathering early this morning, thanked the people for handing his party "a historic victory" and that he hoped to work together with his colleagues from other parties in making "real and meaningful improvements in the lives of our citizens". He went on to note that...
Continued on page 2

Though progress had been made in lifting the citizenry of Kaitan-Leagran out of the squalid conditions they had previously lived in, it was unrealistic to assume that everyone now lived at a level comparable to those in neighbouring nations. While electricity had been restored (or even bestowed for the first time) to most areas of the country, the fragile post-war economy was still to weak to allow people to buy any conventional electrical goods. It was this reason, therefore, that most people learnt of the election thanks to the radio.

It was on such a radio that Protestants in the far north of Kaitan-Leagran now gathered to listen to the news in Ulster Scots. The language, being a creation of Northern Ireland, was not a native of either the island or the Kingdom of Finara, from whence the Protestants of Kaitan-Leagran had originally emerged, and had emerged during the early twentieth century as a self-conscious effort by some to further distinguish them from their co-religionists. If Orthodox spoke Greek, and Catholics spoke Gaelic (so the argument went) then it was only proper for Protestants to speak Ulster Scots, which was the language of their fellows back in the (ultimate) homeland. And though the language had never been adopted to the extent that its proponents wished, it was nevertheless considered an official tongue and widely spoken in the rugged hills to the island's north. And, needless to say, no self-respecting Protestant politician would dare seek election without it as a second language.

"The time is three o' clock," hissed the voice across the radio waves, "and here is the news.

Talks between the Democratic Protestant Party, Fianna Kaitan-Leagran and the Peoples Orthodox Rally are on-going but said by insiders to be positive. Gearoid Stiobhard, the leader of the Democratic Protestants, spoke this afternoon of his confidence that an arrangement could be found within constitutional provisions. Parliamentarians have six weeks to chose a First Minister and two Deputy First Ministers from the first sitting of the Dáil, otherwise the Dáil will be dissolved and fresh elections called. Negoticians have been delayed by the need to find a consensus not only amongst the majority of the Teachtaí Dála, but also a majority among each community. It is widely expected, however, that Mr Stiobhard will gain the position of First Minister with Seamus Mac Liam from Fianna Kaitan-Leagran and Aristokles Polyxena both receiving the office of Deputy First Minister. On the subject of the Balliff, Stiobhard noted that "the resolution of a united government is the final step in the resolution of all other constitutional positions." He refused to comment on suggestions that Baroness Sahana Saandeep of Euphosor was to be offered the position, saying that 'it was a matter for the government'.

In other news, Easkey-Rathlee lost to Graiguenmanagh in the opening stages of the first National Hurling Championship..."

Extracts from the Constitution of Kaitan-Leagran

Chapter 3: The Bailiff

I. The Office of Bailiff is a royal institution. Those selected to ascend to this office are to be considered by all Kaitan-Leagrians to be monarch and sovereign, and are expected to show them such respect and loyalty befitting their position.

II. The full title of the Head of State is His Majesty, the Bailiff of the Kaitan-Leagrians.

III. The Office of Bailiff is a popular institution. The monarch is Bailiff of the Kaitan-Leagrians and not Bailiff of Kaitan-Leagran. As a sovereign traditionally appoints the Office of Bailiff, it is the people of Kaitan-Leagran who are sovereign by their appointment of a Bailiff through their representatives in the National Government and by popular plebiscite. The Bailiff is, therefore, both the source of and recipient of sovereignty.

IV. Upon the Bailiff’s death, abdication or removal from office, the Oireachtas meet without convocation, ten days following the decease at latest. Should the Oireachtas have been previously dissolved, and should the convocation in the dissolution act have been made for a time later than the tenth day following the decease, then the former Oireachtas are to return to their functions until the establishment of those destined to replace them.

From the moment of the Bailiff’s death and until the taking of oath by his successor to the throne or by the Regent, the Bailiff’s constitutional powers are exercised, in the name of the Kaitan-Leagrian people, by the Government, and under their responsibility.

V. The Bailiff’s person is inviolable; his ministers are responsible.

VI. The Bailiff may accede to the throne only after having taken the following oath before the united Oireachtas: "I swear to observe the Constitution and the laws of the Kaitan-Leagrian people, to preserve our national independence and our territorial integrity".

The Bailiff may be removed from the throne should it be judged that he has acted in a manner contrary to the Constitution. In such a scenario, the Oireachtas must pass Standing Order 43 that shall temporarily remove the Bailiff from the throne until such time that the people, through a national plebiscite, confirm this. The person of Bailiff shall no longer be considered sovereign and all monarchical rights and privileges shall be revoked.

VII. The throne is to be occupied for life, barring either abdication or removal in accordance with Article VI, Chapter III of the Constitution. The Oireachtas is then to invite another to occupy the throne, this decision being ratified by the Oireachtas and by a national plebiscite. The throne is open to all citizenry of the world, save that he or she is a person of sound character and standing. Though preferred, a Bailiff need not originate from a noble or royal house of foreign descent, for a citizen elected to the throne will be considered royal in accordance with the constitution and laws of the Kaitan-Leagrians. Though the Bailiwick is secular, and her institutions will not favour or establish any church or creed, the throne is not to be occupied by a Christian, lest it become a focal point for communal unrest. The Bailiff may also not be a member of a schismatic or quasi-Christian faith, such as the Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter Day Saints, nor a member of any faith judged to be 'disruptive' to the harmonious existence of the people and to the workings of government.

VIII. Standing Order 17 shall allow the Government of Kaitan-Leagran to offer the present Bailiff the opportunity to invest the hereditary right to the throne. This Order, accepted by the Bailiff and the people (via a National Plebiscite), shall allow a direct, natural and legitimate right to rule in the Bailiff's family until such time that the Order is revoked or the dynasty expires. Succession shall be of equal primogeniture, passing from the Bailiff to his eldest child, regardless of sex.

IX. The Bailiff may not simultaneously act as head of another state

X. The civil list for the duration of each reign is established by law.

XI. The Bailiff attains his majority upon completion of his eighteenth year of age.

XII. Should, upon the Bailiff's death, his successor be under age, the two chambers of the Oireachtas should meet as a single assembly, for the purpose of regency and guardianship.

XIII. Should the Bailiff find himself unable to reign, the ministers, having
observed this inability, immediately summon the Oireachtas. Regency and guardianship are to be provided by the united chambers of the Oireachtas.

XIV Regency may be conferred on only one person.

The Regent may take office only after having taken the oath as specified in Article VI, Chapter III.

Continued on page 94

The Qooi International Council of Leadership would like to announce Reverend Dr. Darragh Fitzjohns has been nominated for the Annual Genoble-Asabi Award for Excellence in International Leadership.

The nominating committee released a brief statement outlining their decision:

Sometimes violence must be divorced from its negative connotations and understood in terms of its results, or in this case, benefits. A true leader must be able to utilize any tool he can to bring about his vision; if his vision is positive then the International community must respect that. It is only when the vision is so manifestly negative that condemnation is warranted.

Reverend Dr. Darragh Fitzjohns has proven his commitment to progress and improvement within his country. It is for this drive and dedication that we consider him for this honourable award, and the 4.5 million common credit award.

Extracts from the Constitution of Kaitan-Leagran

Appendix 4: National Symbols

I. The first, and most enduring symbol of the Kaitan-Leagrians, is to be the person of Bailiff.

II.
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The Flag of Kaitan-Leagran is a dark orange rectangular flag in the proportion of length and width 3:2 with a white vertical bar at the mast, the orange portion bearing a white cross in the centre. The size of the white portion being one-fourth the size of the flag, nearest the mast, the remainder three-fourths being dark orange.

The orange and white represents the Protestant majority and religious minorities respectively. The cross symbolises the Christian devotion of the people and the unity which this faith provides.

III. http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g83/tsarnoel/bailiff.png
The Coat of Arms of Kaitan-Leagran is to be used by the Bailiff and (in the event of the enforcement of Standing Order 17) by his family as a royal symbol. The Government and Oireachtas may not use the Greater Coat of Arms and shall, instead, utilise the Lesser Coat of Arms for all matters civil. The arms shall consist of a shield containing a heraldic Anacean Mastiff, the colour of which shall be the same as the orange as the national flag. The crest is to be the heraldic Steel Crown of Kaitan-Leagran. The supporters are to be Sciurus carolinensis (Grey Squirrels) and do not represent any symbolic virtue. The shield will also feature the insignia of The Most Excellent Order of the Kaitan-Leagrian Empire.

ooc: Yes, I will put this on NSwiki as soon as it is available. This is just to put it all down "on paper" so that i don't forget and to provide information for those reading.

Next post will develop the plot. Promise.

The Qooi International Council of Leadership would like to announce Reverend Dr. Darragh Fitzjohns has been nominated for the Annual Genoble-Asabi Award for Excellence in International Leadership.

The nominating committee released a brief statement outlining their decision:

Sometimes violence must be divorced from its negative connotations and understood in terms of its results, or in this case, benefits. A true leader must be able to utilize any tool he can to bring about his vision; if his vision is positive then the International community must respect that. It is only when the vision is so manifestly negative that condemnation is warranted.

Reverend Dr. Darragh Fitzjohns has proven his commitment to progress and improvement within his country. It is for this drive and dedication that we consider him for this honourable award, and the 4.5 million common credit award.


The Reverend Dr. Darragh Fitzjohns currently resides in prison, awaiting trial for murder and treason. He thanks, through his representative, The Qooi International Council of Leadership for their kind words and for seeing the wisdom of his actions.

While currently unable to utilise the funds should they be made available to him, he has indicated that only a small percentage of them would be kept for his personal use. The rest would be distributed to a range of Protestant charities, including the Presbylutheran Church of Kaitan-Leagran which, until recently, he had the pleasure of leading.

The manifest destiny of the people is of greater concern that short-term political expedient. If my actions have lead to the embetterment of all Kaitan-Leagrians then I would gladly suffer a fate a thousand times worse, for in the end it is History that shall absolve me.

Throughout all of this, the role of Sahana Sandeep was simply to wait with the same composure which she had been brought to believe characterized a potential monarch. She was not used to the media attention that was being heaped upon her as it grew closer and closer to the moment when the Kaitan-Leagrans were expected to issue their invitation. However, she restrained herself from commenting on that decision. The only public comment she made was a moderately worded condemnation of the decision of the Qooi International Council of Leadership which she described as "irresponsible and without rational basis."

In a lavish awards ceremony it is announced Reverend Dr. Darragh Fitzjohn only just misses out on the award, however still receives the runners up prize of ⊛900,000.

The Justice!Now group hopes the good Dr is given a fair trial, and will be happy to assist in his defense.

Palace of the Oireachtas, Freetown, Kaitan-Leagran

Most people assumed, somewhat innocently, that Kaitan-Leagran was a hot country. Falling under an immense rain shadow caused by the vagaries of wind and weather, the island received little precipitation and, as a result, could be classified as desert. Yet the same vagaries of wind and rain, which guaranteed a temperate climate for its neighbours, also denied the island much warmth. The most constant, and some would irritating, feature of Kaitan-Leagrian weather was the cold westerly wind that would cause a constant swirling of black volcanic dust into every nook and cranny. And tonight, of course, was no exception, which is why praise must be heaped upon the island's press corps for heeding the call to assemble in Parliament Square.

It had been a fortnight since the elections and the main parties were yet to assemble into the coalition necessary for the power-sharing government to begin. Kaitan-Leagrian politics was, thusly, both simultaneously very tense and very dull. Tense because the main, sectarian parties were always on the verge of falling out. Dull, because all legislation from the greatest reform to the tiniest amendment, required consensus by all the ethno-religious groups. The parties were more likely to fall out behind closed doors than in the public arena of the Oireachtas.

Nor was this announcement likely to shock any of the journalists assembled on the cold, November evening.

"They've finally agreed, haven't they?" said one hack to his Greek counterpart in a rare display of cross-communal conversation.
The Greek journalist, in turn, regarded his Catholic counterpart (for by the lilting accent, it was clear that the man's first tongue was Gaelic) with a degree of suspicion, as though he had been asked an indecent question. Judging that the comment was purely conversational, he shrugged slightly.
"It hasn't taken as long as I thought it would," he replied, "I am sure that I have lost the sweepstakes at the office. I said a month."
The other journalist laughed, and a genuine one at that, before turning to adjust the camera that stood before him on a tripod.

At 9 o' clock precisely, and much to the delight of the assembled crowd (who wanted the damn business resolved as quickly as possible so they could get home), the doors of the Parliament building swung open. The building, unrecognisable from the burnt-out shell it had been only 12 months prior, seemed to shine in the clear night air. And from this edifice, built of colonial oppression and now of democratic hope, strode three men. Three men to lead them all.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” said the tallest of the three, “It is my pleasure to announce the formation of the first, democratically-elected government in our nation’s history.”

A small, if nonetheless enthusiastic round of applause erupted from the journalists, public and passers-by who happened to be passing through. The great moment, long predicted, was still glorious to behold.

“Thank you, thank you,” said the taller of the men who, thankfully for the ascetics of the situation, also stood in the middle; “This is a day that I thought was impossible for many years. Yet, thanks to the indomitable spirit of our people, we stand here today, ready for a new dawn and, finally, a place in the sun.”
The man, who was, of course, Gearoid Stiobhard, Leader of the Democratic Protestant Party and the new Head of Government, smiled warmly.

“My Party, the Democratic Protestant Party, together with Fianna Kaitan-Leagran and the People's Orthodox Rally, have agreed to enter into a power-sharing agreement in which the interests of all Kaitan-Leagrians, regardless of class and creed, will be fulfilled.”

Stiobhard smiled again, before motioning for the man on his left to speak.
“I would echo the First Minister’s sentiments,” said Seamus Mac Liam of Fianna Kaitan-Leagran, “And it is for this reason that my party has chosen me to join the Protestants, and the Orthodox, in this national government. I look forward to working with my colleagues from either side of the political and religious divide in my role as Deputy First Minister, especially after the recent attacks of those that do not wish for Kaitan-Leagran to move forward into peace and prosperity. Let us never return to those dark days when political expression and political action flowed from the barrel of a gun. And let this be a sign to all those that thought that such an endeavour would fail, that hope lives in the most barren places, and that when it takes root it grows into a mighty oak.”

Another, no less enthusiastic round of applause rippled across the small crowd.

“There is no way that I can match the lyrical persuasion of my colleague,” said the third man, one Aristokles Polyxena of the People’s Orthodox Rally, “But I fully support his ideals. I also look forward to looking with my colleagues in building a safe, democratic Anacea that will be envy of all nations. Thank you.”

“The formal workings of government shall commence a week from today,” said Stiobhard, “And it is then that we shall begin to address the real, material needs of our people and to build, as the Deputy First Minister Mr Polyxena said, a Kaitan-Leagran that will be envy of all nations. Thank you all for coming tonight, there will be no questions.”

Which, of course, didn’t stop the assembled journalists from shouting them anyway.
“How long are peacekeepers to stay?”
“What are you going to do about the economy?”
“Will there be a South African-styled ‘Peace and Reconciliation Commission’?”
And, of course,
“Who is going to be the Bailiff?”

The politicians smiled and waved to the assembled crowds, some of whom were cheering, before turning and making their way up the steps and back into the Parliament building.

Such questions, it would appear, would have to be answered another day.

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Royal Palace, Astevane

Gearoid Stiobhard
First Minister of Kaitan-Leagran

I would like to congratulate you on being elected First Minister. I have taken, as you know, a personal interest in Kaitan-Leagran. It brings me great happiness to know now that Kaitan-Leagran is on the path to permanent peace. Your nation with great religious diversity should be one that celebrates this diversity, and shares in it. I hope that this election is one of the first steps to such a peace. Remember, your duty as First Minister is firstly to all people of Kaitan-Leagran.

I will be appointing as chargé d’affaires Mr. Pavar Eslakur until the Bailiff is selected to whom he may present letters of credence as an Ambassador.

It is my hope that Kaitan-Leagran has a future of peace, and that our nations will have peaceful relations in the future.


Sincerely yours,
Damoen Wasterin
Crown Prince Regent of Aerion

Official Message from the Protestant Church of Liberty-City, Signed by Reverend Gregory Graham

We of the Protestant Church of Liberty-City would like to, first of all, condemn the competition at Qooi and it's judge panel for denying Reverend Darragh Fitzjohns his prize based on what we judge be merely his 'prison' sentence. As such, we would like to congratulate Reverend Dr. Darragh Fitzjohns for deserving the Qooi award, even though he did not in truth receive it.

We at the PCLC have raised ten million Menelmacari credits for the benefit of the good Reverend and those charities to which he may feel inclined to donate, and would like to point out that those who wish to donate more to be distributed at the Reverend's desire are free to donate at www.Fitzjohnsaward.all. We thank Richard Rabbit of Cute Bunny Burger Corporation for donating half of the money raised so far.

Further, we condemn in no uncertain terms the Reverend's imprisonment.

May God bless Kaitan-Leagran.

May God bless Allanea.

The Ecumenical Patriarch did not like to see his authority misused for political purposes by underlings with delusions of adequacy. His All Holiness especially did take kindly to the story told to him by Stylianos Amesimeku upon his return from Anacea. Of all the underlings with delusions of adequacy, and there were many in Pantocratoria, Eugenios, rather Bishop Eugenios of An Bealach Bui, was one of the most deluded. An irritating self-serving functionary of the first order, the depth of his desire to ingratiate himself with his superiors had only been matched by the depth of his superior's desires to be rid of him. As a theologian the sheer number of his publications were formidable - unfortunately, their quality was not. In short, when the Holy Synod had been mulling over names of senior monks to banish to the desolate war-torn hellhole of Kaitan-Leagran, Eugenios enjoyed an overwhelming consensus. Practically falling over himself with delight as he drew up the investiture instruments, His All Holiness even did Eugenios the honour of offering to help him pack.

As Stylianos Amesimeku now related the events which had transpired in November to the Holy Synod, the Patriarch quivered in the Ecumenical Throne with rage. The Holy Synod had appointed a new bishop in the hopes of calming tensions by removing the militant Stylianos from the position. Now it could see that the investiture had quite the opposite - Stylianos had been removed as the island was on the brink of a peaceful solution, and his successor had actively participated in a coup, however brief. That the outcome was not entirely unsatisfactory was irrelevant. The Patriarch was outraged. Stylianos was bade to leave the presence of the Holy Synod while it deliberated on his news.

"That bumbling fool Eugenios proves himself more ambitious than even his endless toadying suggested!" Stephanus spat. "We will not be used and misused as the Usurper-Patriarchs of Constantinople were after the Sack! Eugenios must be at once deposed! Do you disagree, brothers?"

"Your Holiness speaks true!" proclaimed Petros of Markosea.

"Eugenios must go!" agreed Michael of New Thessalonica.

"I never wanted him there in the first place!" declared Konstantinos of Perosamoce.

"How did we make such an appalling mistake?" Stephanus asked.

The Holy Synod sat quietly shaking their heads. The Patriarch frowned and crossed his arms.

"By we, we mean the Holy Synod, not just ourselves." Stephanus clarified.

"We couldn't have known!" demurred Konstantinos of Ghelmanos.

"He tricked us!" sighed Filipos of Matheus.

"I wasn't there." asserted Konstantinos of Perosamoce, gravely.

"Well it is a thing as soon undone as it was done!" Stephanus declared. "Let us draw up the instruments deposing Eugenios of An Bealach Bui, and investing Stylianos Amesimeku, who seems not too bad a sort really."

"An excellent idea, All Holiness!" agreed Paulus of Subeita.

"Flawless in all respects!" nodded Petros of Sebastia.

"I was the first who wanted Eugenios deposed!" Konstantinos of Perosamoce interjected enthusiastically.

***

Stylianos Amesimeku was dispatched back to Kaitan-Leagran with two letters, the first of which is produced below, and the second of which was his investiture.

To: His Grace Eugenios of An Bealach Bui, (Ex-)Bishop of Anacea
From: His All Holiness Stephanus III of Constantinople (New Rome) and Drakopolis, Ecumenical Patriarch

The Blessings of Almighty and Holy God be upon Your Grace,

It is with great dissatisfaction that We write to you to express Our ecumenical displeasure in your political fumblings. To participate in a coup, however short-lived, is utterly inexcusable, and We will not abide it.

The displeasure with which We advise you of Our dissatisfaction turns to joy, however, when We turn instead to the matter of a recent meeting of the Holy and Sacred Synod of the Ecumenical Patriarchate, at which a formal motion to depose Your Grace was moved and passed unanimously. Brother Konstantinos, the Bishop of Perosamoce, even voted twice.

We therefore advise you to vacate, at your earliest possible convenience, your episcopal residence and go instead to Pantocratorian Ambara, where you are to report to His Eminence the Metropolitan of Andrium, Our brother Isaakios. If you refuse to comply with Our instructions, We feel compelled to remind you that We are empowered to excommunicate ex-bishops who, once deposed, refuse to accept the ruling of the Holy Synod.

May the joyous news that Holy God became a Man and was born of a Virgin remind you that miracles do happen, and everybody can be redeemed! Even deposed bishops!

Stephanus
Archbishop of Constantinople (New Rome) and Drakopolis
Ecumenical Patriarch

Stylianos Amesimeku strode from the Peacock Airlines flight to An Bealach Bui with an air of nigh-invincibility. Disgraceful though his return to the mother country had been, he was at least happy to see the old place and had taken the time, in between meetings with the Patriarch, of visiting an elderly aunt and other assorted friends and family. That said, a surge of joy filled his being when he caught a glance of brown, dusty land of Anacea. With the endorsement of the Holy Synod and the Ecumenical Patriarch, surely his troubles were over. The Episcopal Palace, His palace, would no doubt soon be his and his rival of so many years, rival now turned traitor, would be visiting garden fetes in some corner of Pantocratorian Ambara. He had said that they would never get away with it and, in this instance, he was right.

Walking through the glassy corridors of An Bealach Bui International Airport, the former (and soon to be re-established) bishop was the subject of many stares. People almost instinctively moved away from him as he made his way from the arrival gate, as though the momentousness of the occasion would sweep them into oblivion if they strayed too close. Some more enthusiastic fellow passengers even shouted words of encouragement, for the bishop’s actions in opposing the coup, whose lifetime was short-lived but whose implications had helped shape much of their new state, had gathered support in the Greek-speaking areas to the west. Many in the city, and in the surrounding countryside, believed the Bailiwick to be the construction of their Gaelic-speaking neighbours, and the sense that the Finaran Catholics and Protestants had put aside their differences in order to ‘do one over’ on their Orthodox brethren was felt particularly strongly in the city that many felt should have been the capital over the decrepit ruins of Freetown. And, while Stylianos had sworn to His All-Holiness that his days of militia-involvement were over, he also felt their frustration. All that now stood between him and his goal was the small matter of the immigration desk.

“Passport,” said the bored looking-official when Stylianos finally made his way to the man’s desk. Smiling to himself as he noticed the differences in accent between the Greek in Pantocratoria, kept deliberately free from any Turkish influence, and that of Anacea with its hints of Gaelic-tone. The ex-bishop duly produced his passport, bearing on it the dirty green crest of the provisional government of which he was, until so recently, a leading light.

The official took the passport and carefully studied Stylianos’ face before concluding that the bearded man set out in the picture was the same man that stood before him. Instead of passing the passport back to him, however, the official placed it into a scanning machine that sat just below the elevated desk’s surface. The harsh-sounding beep that it emitted indicated to all and sundry that something was up.

“Is there a problem?” asked the ex-bishop.

The official did not respond, but instead removed the passport and, as though to verify it, placed it back into the machine. The same negative beep was produced.

“According to the computer,” said the officer after a few moments, “You are not cleared to enter the country. Can I ask the nature of your visit?”

“Visit,” exclaimed Stylianos, “This is not a visit. I am returning home, I’m a citizen!”

“Not according to this computer, sir.”

“There must be some mistake then,” said the ex-bishop, “I have lived here for over thirty years.”

“That may as well be, sir,” said the officer with a bored tone, “But your passport is invalid.”

“Invalid? That’s impossible, I helped design the bloody passport in the first place.”

“That may well be the case,” said the officer, “But the note here on the system informs me that you are not welcome in Kaitan-Leagran.”

“For what reason?” said the ex-bishop, his voice rising in unison with his rage.

“You were an enemy combatant, sir, and the Ministry of Internal Affairs has deemed you a threat to public safety.”

“A threat? I’m a clergyman for crying-out-loud, how can I be a threat?”

“We live in confused times, sir, and it is not for me to judge who is and isn’t on the list. I’m afraid that you’ll have to step into a side-office with one of my colleagues.”

“This is ridiculous,” exclaimed Stylianos, “I used to be Bishop of this place. I will be Bishop again. Now let me through.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”

“I demand to speak to whoever is in charge of this ‘Ministry of Internal Affairs’.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that, if you could just follow my colleague, he will assist in this matter.”

“This whole situation,” shouted the ex-bishop as he coerced away from the desk by uniformed police officers, “Is absurd. We shall see about this apparent ‘threat to public safety.”

The situation was not resolved, however. The Moderator had been careful to place his supporters within the remnants of the Provisional Government and, while he now resided in some far off Confederal Prison, his influence had not completely vanished. Stylianos Amesimeku was indeed a ‘threat to public safety’ and a person deemed ‘unsuitable’ to the new political state of affairs. So, after a few hours, he was placed onto the first available flight to Drakopolis.

Meanwhile, at the Episcopal palace, Eugenios and his staff made no signs of any imminent move to Pantocratorian Ambara. Nor did they even bother to acknowledge the Patriarch’s letter. Life, it seems, would continue (for the immediate future) as though no letter was ever sent.

* * * *

To: His All Holiness Stephanus III of Constantinople (New Rome) and Drakopolis, Ecumenical Patriarch
From: Feidhelm ó hÉalaighthe, Minister for Internal Affairs.

Your All-Holiness,

Though it is not the business of the Bailiwick to intervene in the private affairs of any Christian Church, it has come to my attention that the Holy Synod of the Orthodox Church of Pantocratoria has undertaken to reassign the current Bishop of An Bealach Bui and, as befits your organisation, appoint another in his place.

As I said, it is not the business of Government to comment on these matters for it clearly does not concern us. What does concern us, however, is who you appoint in the current Bishop's stead. Kaitan-Leagran is still under-going political and economic transformation and, as a result, even the most trivial of actions can have lasting effects upon the development of our nation as a whole.

I should be grateful, therefore, if you could please write to me by return and inform me of who you wish to assume the Episcopal Throne of An Bealach Bui. Though this may seem like undue state interference, we role of Bishop of An Bealach Bui is one of key importance, and whoever takes this position must also have the confidence and respect of the Bailiwick's government, especially as it seems likely that the our two institutions will have to work together in order to improve the lives of all the citizens of Kaitan-Leagran, Greek-speaking or otherwise.

Though I would not like the matter to descend to such a level, the Bailiwick does reserve the right to bar entry to any who will not be conduicive to Intra-denominational relations.

I look forward to hearing from you within the near future, and would also like to take this opportunity to wish you a Merry Christmas.

Yours sincerely,

Feidhelm ó hÉalaighthe

Over the next week, there was a great deal of debate in the Confederal Assembly. Eventually, a resolution was passed which set benchmarks in Kaitan-Leagran and made future Confederal aid and, certainly, a future Confederal presence, contingent upon the Kaitan-Leagrian government meeting the benchmarks within the next two months. The act expressed grave concern as to the unfree and undemocratic character of certain recent developments and, while acknowledging the sovereign government of Kaitan-Leagran as free to pursue whatever course of action it wished, declared that the Confederal people wished no complicity in such developments. The act reminded the Kaitan-Leagrian people that, despite the predictions of some propagandists, the Confederated Peoples had at no point interfered in the development of the island but had instead made massive humanitarian contributions to relieve the crisis and allow the island to finally be in a position to determine its own destiny. This act was no change from this policy. There was no punitive element that would come into play if the benchmarks weren't met, simply the withdrawal of active Confederal assistance. It was for the government of Kaitan-Leagran to decide if the propaganda value of blaming foreigners was worth the end of all the actual benefits that came through the IAA. If they decided to ignore the benchmarks, the Confederals would even extradite the Moderator to Kaitan-Leagrian custody and he could take his chances without foreign assistance. There were five benchmarks in all:

1. The end of undue interference in religious freedom and, in particular, with the practice of the Orthodox religion. The Confederals were more or less open about the fact that this meant the recognition of Stylianus and his admission to the country.

2. The end to politically motivated refusals to allow the reentry of citizens. Again, this mostly meant Stylianus.

3. The purge of all conspirators associated with the Moderated from the civil service and especially from law enforcement and the military.

4. The filling of all constitutional offices without further delay.

5. The end of political persecution generally and the opening up of the democratic process.

To: His All Holiness Stephanus III of Constantinople (New Rome) and Drakopolis, Ecumenical Patriarch
From: Feidhelm ó hÉalaighthe, Minister for Internal Affairs.

Your All-Holiness,

Though it is not the business of the Bailiwick to intervene in the private affairs of any Christian Church, it has come to my attention that the Holy Synod of the Orthodox Church of Pantocratoria has undertaken to reassign the current Bishop of An Bealach Bui and, as befits your organisation, appoint another in his place.

As I said, it is not the business of Government to comment on these matters for it clearly does not concern us. What does concern us, however, is who you appoint in the current Bishop's stead. Kaitan-Leagran is still under-going political and economic transformation and, as a result, even the most trivial of actions can have lasting effects upon the development of our nation as a whole.

I should be grateful, therefore, if you could please write to me by return and inform me of who you wish to assume the Episcopal Throne of An Bealach Bui. Though this may seem like undue state interference, we role of Bishop of An Bealach Bui is one of key importance, and whoever takes this position must also have the confidence and respect of the Bailiwick's government, especially as it seems likely that the our two institutions will have to work together in order to improve the lives of all the citizens of Kaitan-Leagran, Greek-speaking or otherwise.

Though I would not like the matter to descend to such a level, the Bailiwick does reserve the right to bar entry to any who will not be conduicive to Intra-denominational relations.

I look forward to hearing from you within the near future, and would also like to take this opportunity to wish you a Merry Christmas.

Yours sincerely,

Feidhelm ó hÉalaighthe

To: Feidhelm ó hÉalaighthe, Minister for Internal Affairs
From: His All Holiness Stephanus III of Constantinople (New Rome) and Drakopolis, Ecumenical Patriarch

Minister,

The blessings of Holy God be upon you in the Christmas Lenten season!

As you observed in your letter, it is not the right of the Bailiwick to intervene in the private affairs of any Christian Church. It gratifies the Holy Synod to know that you share its respect for freedom of religion from state oppression.

We feel obliged to point out some errors of fact which, regretfully, appear to have crept into your understanding of the situation which underpins your letter. In your letter you seem to be referring to the former Bishop of Anacea, Eugenios, as the current bishop of Anacea. His Grace Bishop Stylianos of An Bealach Bui is, in fact, the Bishop of Anacea, having been duly invested by the Holy and Ecumenical Synod. Eugenios is merely resident in His Grace's episcopal residence in your country, having already been legally deposed as Bishop of Anacea by the Holy Synod.

Whatever the opinion, then, of the Bailiwick on the matter, Stylianos of An Bealach Bui is Bishop of Anacea, lawfully invested by the Most Holy and Ecumenical Synod. The former bishop, Eugenios, we have no doubt, will shortly be travelling to Pantocratorian Ambara, after his deposition by the Synod.

The fact that your government has denied entry to Bishop Stylianos does not in any way affect his lawful investiture as Bishop of Anacea. If your government does not allow Our dearest brother Stylianos to return to his flock, We shall be compelled to grant him a residence and such staff as are necessary for him here in Drakopolis, where he shall perform his duties as Bishop of Anacea in exile if need be. We trust, however, that with your government's expressed belief in the freedom of religion from sectarian suppression and oppression by the state, it will not be necessary for the Bishop to conduct the affairs of his diocese from across the seas, and that he will be allowed to return to his diocese as soon as possible.

With joy at the approach holy time at which all the world celebrates the birth of God become Man, Jesus Christ, by the blessed Virgin, We wish you a happy and holy Christmas,

Stephanus
Archbishop of Constantinople (New Rome) and Drakopolis
Ecumenical Patriarch

It was raining in the courtyard of the Xirniumite foreign ministry. Not snow, although such did cover the brecciated flagstones and the vast, ancient building around them, nor even freezing sleet. Just a light, grey, dreary drizzle, its intensity unchanging, the type of depressing weather that one could imagine clouding the skies after the end of time. Two people were standing in the rain, both holding umbrellas. As they spoke their breath turned to vapour.

The subject of the coversation had meandered to that of Kaitan-Leagran. The taller figure, her train sodden from the rain where it was not covered by the umbrella, finished the last line on a letter on the matter.

‘I hate this fucking island.’

‘Minister!’ gasped Vórtimer Naúderthorn, the permanent secretary for foreign affairs. His eyes darted around the empty courtyard, as though expecting to see a crowd of horrified faces.

‘I’m fairly certain I asked never to be bothered with this insignificant little island ever again,’ continued the minister for foreign affairs, Eléanor Sabelinà, looking terribly displeased. ‘Didn’t I ask that, Vórtimer?’

‘If you did I don’t recall so, Minister,’ Vórtimer apologised.

‘But I’m certain I did,’ the countess insisted.

‘Well I don’t recall.’

‘Then I’m telling you now, Vórtimer,’ Eléanor explained, becoming irritated. ‘Take this problem to someone else and leave me in peace.’

‘I’m afraid I really can’t, Minister, this does require your special attention,’ Vórtimer apologised again.

The countess looked at the wet letter in her hand and regarded it with deep suspicion. ‘So the Danaans have finally come to realise that these islanders are a bunch of barbarian misfits incapable of running their own country with anything resembling legitimacy,’ she stated.

‘So I’m given to understand, Minister,’ nodded the permanent secretary, reasonably content with his superior’s summary.

‘And what do they want me to do about it?’ asked Eléanor. ‘I’ve been warning them about this for months.’

‘They should like some type of likeminded response, I imagine,’ explained the permanent secretary. ‘I need hardly remind you that they are our allies, after all. It’s a reasonable request.’

‘Even if I felt so inclined to help, I don’t see that there’s anything I can do,’ sighed the countess. ‘I could issue some kind of statement, but we’ll just look like we’re chiming in for the sake of it. And I’m afraid I’m done with issuing statements that aren’t listened to. I suppose I could lodge an official protest about the treatment of this... this...’ she consulted the letter, ‘this “Stylianos” creature, but...’ she frowned as she continued to reread the letter, ‘Vórtimer, why on earth should I care about a bloody priest?’

‘He seems to matter to the Confederated Peoples,’ the permanent secretary explained. ‘It’s not just him... it’s the whole issue of religious freedom and discrimination that he has come to represent.’

‘Religious freedom! Good heavens. The Danaans really need to find something better to do with their time,’ Eléanor said. ‘If the Pantocratorian government doesn’t care then why do they? I absolutely won’t protest against the unfair treatment of an Orthodox priest... let all those Christian fools squabble over nothing. With any luck they’ll all start killing each other, and hopefully those filthy Protestants first!’

‘Can’t we do something, Minister?’ asked Vórtimer, forging ahead quite admirably in the face of his superior’s irrational prejudices.

‘Well fine then, what do you suggest? We’ve no foreign aid to cut or diplomatic relations to sever,’ the countess replied. ‘Heavens, I’d like to do something more decisive but only the People’s Fiefdom seems to get away with launching invasions.’

‘So then your final decision is..?’

‘Look, I’ll talk to our Chief Whip,’ Eléanor explained, ‘and I’ll ask him to get someone from the backbench to ask me a question on the matter. I’ll use the opportunity to express some kind of mild support for the Danaans’ tough new strategy-’ at this she rolled her eyes ‘-during Parliament. Other than that I’m afraid my hands are tied.’

The two stood silent for a few moments and all that was heard was the quiet, never-ending sound of raindrops pattering against their black silk umbrellas.

‘Rain in late December,’ snorted the countess. ‘Not once have I seen this in four decades. Bloody global warming...’

Imperial Monitor

Backbench to Government: Take Anacea Seriously
Before the newly elected Parliament has even been sworn in, a group of twelve Constantinople Party backbenchers has written to the Chancellor and the Deputy Chancellor demanding that the Government "take the grossly unstable situation" in Anacea more seriously in its second term than it did in its first.

A copy of the letter was leaked to the Imperial Monitor by an anonymous staffer.

The letter asked the Chancellor and Deputy Chancellor to consider creating a new non-cabinet portfolio to specifically address Anacean issues, assisting the Minister for Foreign Affairs.

This portfolio would have departmental support provided from the Foreign Minister's department, where a new Anacean Affairs Office would be created to deal with issues specific to Anacea.

The backbenchers proposed that this portfolio be filled by a member of the Constantinople Party.

It is generally believed that as the Constantinople Party sustained minimal losses in the recent election compared to the Socialists, their front bench representation will increase in the Second Drapeur Ministry.

Anacea is often also called Kaitan-Leagran, and its new post-coup government refers to the country as the Protestant Bailiwick of Kaitan-Leagran, despite a non-Protestant majority consisting of Orthodox and Catholics in more or less equal quantities.

Prior to the period of relative peace which preceded the coup, the Protestant extremists who ruled the island referred to it as New Deasrargle, a name derived from a province in Finara historically troubled by Protestant fundamentalist terror groups.

Anacea's Orthodox population are Greek speakers of Pantocratorian descent, who are in uproar after the new post-coup government of the Protestant Republic refused entry to the Orthodox Bishop of Anacea, Stylianos, who was sent by the Ecumenical Patriarch to replace the deposed former bishop.

The letter sent by the Constantinople Party backbenchers to the Coalition Government's leaders demanded that the Imperial Government uphold the right of the non-Protestant majority in Anacea, and especially the Orthodox, to conduct their religious affairs without interference from the island's post-coup government.

During the election campaign, Opposition Leader Sir Thierry del Moray campaigned on the issue of Anacea in largely Greek Orthodox seats held by the Government, promising to take a hard policy line regarding the island.

The issue is generally thought to have lifted the preference flow of Constantinople Party voters towards the United Christian Front rather than to the Socialists, which helped cost the Socialists over a dozen seats where Constantinople Party preferences had been expected to see Socialist MPs re-elected.

Kaitan-Leagran already had been assigned a country desk in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs as with many other nations Aerion interacted with or had interacted with. A small one room office had been set up in the Ministry's area of the large Esolina Palace in the Royal District of Astevane. The Esolina Palace contained the Ministry of Foreign Affairs' central offices, and various other Ministry offices as well as government official offices.

The office had two desks, though only one was usually filled. Parei Alsmen was the Country Desk Officer for Kaitan-Leagran. He had been busy the past few weeks helping further organize the office of Mr. Pavar Eslakur in Kaitan-Leagran, the chargé d’affaires. The diplomatic mission to Kaitan-Leagran was preparing to become fully established with the building of an embassy though it had not been officially announced the logistics, and organization part had been underway. Then this issue came up.

Parei sighed as he sat at the desk, typing in the data terminal the report that would be necessary to go to the Deputy Minister for Political Affairs. He had already met with several specialists in international affairs, particularly in the Bureau for Regional Relations which was an office as well a a sort of joint team of the various country desks, and teams for the various nations in the Western Atlantic allowing them to collaborate on isues that affect the region. He also met with the Bureau of Intelligence & Research. He had even spoke to an official at the office of the Orthodox Archbishop of All Aerion, leader of the Orthodox eparchy in Aerion which was part of the Orthodox Church of Constantinople. The report he was typing after gathering research was on the possible ramifications of the actions of the government of Kaitan-Leagran, Pantocratoria's reaction, the Confederated Peoples' Reaction, and assorted other reactions. The report took into account complex research he had gathered from the various sources he consulted with.

Parei had had the experience for the job, he had been an aide worker helping to distribute the funds the Crown Prince Regent had provided in the more chaotic days of Kaitan-Leagran, and insured their proper use. The turbulent country had left an endearing mark on him despite what he had seen. He only hoped for peace for the nation which captivated his interest. He was not sure why it did, perhaps it was the diversity of the people, and the daily issues they faced. He felt a sort of kinship with them.

To: Feidhelm ó hÉalaighthe, Minister for Internal Affairs
From: His All Holiness Stephanus III of Constantinople (New Rome) and Drakopolis, Ecumenical Patriarch

Minister,

The blessings of Holy God be upon you in the Christmas Lenten season!

As you observed in your letter, it is not the right of the Bailiwick to intervene in the private affairs of any Christian Church. It gratifies the Holy Synod to know that you share its respect for freedom of religion from state oppression.

We feel obliged to point out some errors of fact which, regretfully, appear to have crept into your understanding of the situation which underpins your letter. In your letter you seem to be referring to the former Bishop of Anacea, Eugenios, as the current bishop of Anacea. His Grace Bishop Stylianos of An Bealach Bui is, in fact, the Bishop of Anacea, having been duly invested by the Holy and Ecumenical Synod. Eugenios is merely resident in His Grace's episcopal residence in your country, having already been legally deposed as Bishop of Anacea by the Holy Synod.

Whatever the opinion, then, of the Bailiwick on the matter, Stylianos of An Bealach Bui is Bishop of Anacea, lawfully invested by the Most Holy and Ecumenical Synod. The former bishop, Eugenios, we have no doubt, will shortly be travelling to Pantocratorian Ambara, after his deposition by the Synod.

The fact that your government has denied entry to Bishop Stylianos does not in any way affect his lawful investiture as Bishop of Anacea. If your government does not allow Our dearest brother Stylianos to return to his flock, We shall be compelled to grant him a residence and such staff as are necessary for him here in Drakopolis, where he shall perform his duties as Bishop of Anacea in exile if need be. We trust, however, that with your government's expressed belief in the freedom of religion from sectarian suppression and oppression by the state, it will not be necessary for the Bishop to conduct the affairs of his diocese from across the seas, and that he will be allowed to return to his diocese as soon as possible.

With joy at the approach holy time at which all the world celebrates the birth of God become Man, Jesus Christ, by the blessed Virgin, We wish you a happy and holy Christmas,

Stephanus
Archbishop of Constantinople (New Rome) and Drakopolis
Ecumenical Patriarch

To: His All Holiness Stephanus III of Constantinople (New Rome) and Drakopolis, Ecumenical Patriarch
From: Feidhelm ó hÉalaighthe, Minister for Internal Affairs

Your All-Holiness,

I read your last letter with great interest, and would also thank you for the swift response to my own letter dated 22nd December, last.

Upon reflection, it is my understanding that, contrary to the above-mentioned letter, it is your own interpretation of the situation that has, alas, been infiltrated with error. It is not the position of the Bailiwick of Kaitan-Leagran to infer in the matters of private faith, nor the desire of any member of the Government to favour one religious organisation over another. It is, however, the policy of this government, and we would expect any right-thinking government, to deny access to those people deemed undesirable to the delicate balance of our nation. We do not contest, therefore, the right of the Holy Synod to make suitable ecclesiastical appointments in the same way that we do not chose the appointment of the Catholic Bishops' Conference or the Assembly of the Presbylutheran Church of Kaitan-Leagran. We do not, thusly, deny the legitimacy of your decisions, nor seek to protect the position of the former Bishop of An Bealach Bui, one Eugenios. The Orthodox Church, after all, is not an established church and we feel no need to interfere in this way.

What we do protest to, though, is your choice of successor. Stylianos Amesimeku is an known participant in militia activity and we therefore cannot allow his elevation to a position of moral authority. We would plead, for the final time, that you reconsider your decision and select instead a less decisive figure.

That said, if you are adamant that Mr. Amesimeku is to become Bishop then, whilst regretting the decision, we will abide by it. We are confident of the Bishop's ability to govern his diocese successfully from whatever office space you provide in Drakopolis.

Yours sincerely,

Feidhelm ó hÉalaighthe

Unity Chamber, Palace of the Oireachtas
Meeting of the Cabinet

"Political persecution?" thundered Seamus Mac Liam, banging a fist onto the oak table for the added affect, "What manner of nonsense is this?"

Mutters of agreement were emitted by all those that now sat round the table, together with tuts of 'shameful' and 'disgraceful.'

"I agree," said the First Minister, at the very centre of the table, "That the Confederal response is, shall we say, somewhat excessive, but the risks placed before us are greater."

"Greater my arse," said Iollan ó Dubhghaill, the Education Minister, "This amounts to nothing more than undue interference with our sovereign laws. We have the absolute and legal right to deny access to however we see fit. Such a 'proclamation' is exactly the sort of thing the Finarans would have done."

The next noise was less unison than the previous. The Protestant members, together with a few of the more bombastic Orthodox, were the same guttural sound of approval that had been emitted before. Both sides, after all, took credit for ending the Finaran Colonial Regime, skilfully ignoring the violence they both utilised and unleashed. Catholics, for whom the rule of the original mother country produced a more mixed reaction, sat in tense silence.

"That's all very well," said Stiobhard, casting a glance at his younger colleague, "but the issue of a visa application has now become a very sensitive international subject, and we should make no decision without consensus."

The last word was, of course, weighed heavily and, almost as one, the cabinet members turned to look at their Greek-speaking colleagues who, until this moment, had sat in a very obvious silence.

"Well," said Mac Liam, "what do you think?"

Aristokles Polyxena shifted uneasily in his chair, aware that all eyes now rested on him.

"Well," he began, "It is a very difficult situation for the People’s Orthodox Rally to be in. Many of us, after all, are very close to Bishop Stylianos. We have worked with him for many years, he even baptised my son."

"That may well be," said Mac Liam, "But you know full well what we agreed to when we negotiated forming this government. We all agreed that we had to thoroughly distance ourselves from the militias from which many of us emerged. And, after Fitzjohns, we had to make a conscious effort to rid ourselves of the previous, Church leadership. Now I'm not saying that I supported FItzjohns, or his various and terrible murders, but at least he achieved something and that was, in one fell blow, to remove those leaders that had become totems for the civil war and all its years of violence. Now am I saying that I would have preferred it if Bishop O’Neill had stayed, rather than retiring under pressure? Of course I would, I dearly loved him not only as my spiritual father but also as a friend. But I recognised, as did we all, that we had to make a fresh start. We had to begin anew, with new leaders, and Fitzjohns, may he rot in hell, was more effective than any Clearance Cause."

"Your fellow Deputy First Minister has a point," said Stiobhard, "We all agreed to put our houses in order. My own church has more or less purged itself of the former Moderator's lackeys. We had hoped that the same would occur in your own church but it seems that outside influences prevent this.

None of us, I am sure, have any personal quarrel with Bishop Stylianos and none of us would have wished him to leave our nation in the circumstances that he did. But we cannot allow a reminder of our past to sit among us, and we cannot have the legitimacy of our institutions threatened by this man. What say you Aristokles?"

Polyxena, once again, squirmed in his chair.
"The points you make," he said with a croak, "Are all valid, but none of you understand the position that many of my people hold Bishop Stylianos. He is like a father to them. We cannot simply turn our backs on him."

"When you signed up to the elections," said the First Minister, "You agreed to put aside any personal misgivings about the shape of the institutions of state in order that democracy may be created. I am sure that many around this table to do wish for the state to be termed the 'Protestant Bailiwick', nor that it retains Fitzjohns' flag. But beggars, gentlemen, cannot be choosers, and we all took the Constitution as it is and accepted the undesirable elements. And we also agreed to those bits that had been saved from the old constitution, mainly the principle of collective governance. We cannot make a decision in this regard unless we are all agreed. We must have a consensus and, flawed though some elements may be, we chose a flawed marriage over a perfect divorce. Bishop Stylianos, by his words and actions, threatens these institutions and fans the flames of sectarianism, whether he believes in this or not. But we must ALL be agreed."

The leaders of the People's Orthodox Rally muttered quietly to themselves for a moment, before turning back to the table.

"Very well," said Polyxena, his voice now strong and confident, "We will agree, in principle, to the continued denial of a visa to Bishop Stylianos on two conditions."

"Name them," said Mac Liam, bluntly.

"One: That the Confederal accusation of conspirators associated with the Moderator within the civil service, law enforcement and the military be thoroughly investigated and any such conspirators purged from the system."

"We have already begun such a process," said ó Cinnéide the Minister for Judicial Affairs, "And, to ensure impartiality, have selected the relevant committee from among those Teachtaí Dála that were not present in the country during the former Moderator's conspiracy or aftermath."

"Second: That a group of Teachtaí Dála go to Pantocratoria and at least verify the Bishop's loyalties. If we can prove that he wishes no political role then we can at least allow him to return."

"I see no objection to this," said Stiobhard, "Safe that we dictate the timetable for any proposed rapprochement, not the international community."

"I think," said the Greek Deputy First Minister, "That it is agreeable. Though I would also ask that we be allowed to consult our deputies in Parliament before any vote."

"Reasonable," said Stiobhard, "I believe that, upon consultation, we should be better placed to create a joint response to the Confederation's demands. Though this leads me directly onto the second point, and one that we have avoided for far too long, the issue of Bailiff."

An awkward silence, as predicted by the First Minister, fell across the room.

"Now," he began, "it was my understanding that we had all, in principle, agreed upon the person of Baroness Sahana Saandeep of Euphosor. However, information has recently come to me that this view is no longer as universally held, as I believed. Perhaps you would like to provide us with more details……Seamus?”

Mac Liam, who had so recently been lambasting his colleague for supposed-weakness, now took his turn to squirm sheepishly in his chair. A caucus of Fianna Kaitan-Leagran deputies in the past week had, somewhat shockingly, rejected the Baroness in a straw poll for the role of Bailiff. It was a detail that Mac Liam, and the rest of the Party Leadership, had hoped would not be well known. Obliviously it had.

“Well,” spluttered Mac Liam, “For what I understand, a number of deputies from a certain political party have, shall we say, expressed doubts over the suitability of her Ladyship.”

“Let us not play games,” growled the First Minister, “Because, as I so recently said, a degree of consensus is required and this is the one decision that we cannot afford to bodge-up. And if this represents a groundswell of opinion among the Gaelic-speaking community, then it must be known now.”

“In fairness, First Minister,” squeaked Iollan ó Dubhghaill, “Some pollsters have also found a similar opinion among the Ulster Scots.”

“And what, pray, is wrong with the Baroness?”

“Well,” began Mac Liam, “she’s…well…Indian.”

A short, oppressive silence fell across the room.

“What?” bellowed the First Minister.

“It’s true,” began the still confident-looking Polyxena, “We Anaceans, or Kaitan-Leagrians, if you will, might have much in common. We don’t believe in the same sort of God, we don’t speak the same language and we don’t have a shared history, well one that doesn’t involve fighting one another. In fact, the only thing we do have in common is the fact that we are all Caucasian.”

“So,” said the still-thundering First Minister, “We are to reject a perfectly reasonable, eloquent, educated and graceful woman on the colour of her skin?”

“It’s not as simple as that,” said Mac Liam, “None of us are saying that the Baroness is not qualified, it is just that the Bailiff must reflect, to a greater or lesser extent, the primary ethnic make-up of the country.”

“These notions,” said Stiobhard, “Are positively medieval. I thought we sort to build a thoroughly modern monarchy?”

“We did,” interjected ó Dubhghaill, “But a popular one at that. Baroness Sahana is not…..not…not very Kaitan-Leagrian.”

“And what, pray tell, is?”

“I don’t know,” said the Education Minister, “But she does not encompass it.”

“Then we are back to square one. We do not have even a preferred candidate.” Said the First Minister in a tone of despair.

“Not necessarily,” came a small voice that was revealed to be Dorus Theophilus, the Defence Minister, “I took the liberty of perusing the old Confederal list, the one containing all the eligible royals, most of whom Fitzjohns rejected. I believe that I may have found us our new Bailiff….”

To: His All Holiness Stephanus III of Constantinople (New Rome) and Drakopolis, Ecumenical Patriarch
From: Feidhelm ó hÉalaighthe, Minister for Internal Affairs

Your All-Holiness,

I read your last letter with great interest, and would also thank you for the swift response to my own letter dated 22nd December, last.

Upon reflection, it is my understanding that, contrary to the above-mentioned letter, it is your own interpretation of the situation that has, alas, been infiltrated with error. It is not the position of the Bailiwick of Kaitan-Leagran to infer in the matters of private faith, nor the desire of any member of the Government to favour one religious organisation over another. It is, however, the policy of this government, and we would expect any right-thinking government, to deny access to those people deemed undesirable to the delicate balance of our nation. We do not contest, therefore, the right of the Holy Synod to make suitable ecclesiastical appointments in the same way that we do not chose the appointment of the Catholic Bishops' Conference or the Assembly of the Presbylutheran Church of Kaitan-Leagran. We do not, thusly, deny the legitimacy of your decisions, nor seek to protect the position of the former Bishop of An Bealach Bui, one Eugenios. The Orthodox Church, after all, is not an established church and we feel no need to interfere in this way.

What we do protest to, though, is your choice of successor. Stylianos Amesimeku is an known participant in militia activity and we therefore cannot allow his elevation to a position of moral authority. We would plead, for the final time, that you reconsider your decision and select instead a less decisive figure.

That said, if you are adamant that Mr. Amesimeku is to become Bishop then, whilst regretting the decision, we will abide by it. We are confident of the Bishop's ability to govern his diocese successfully from whatever office space you provide in Drakopolis.

Yours sincerely,

Feidhelm ó hÉalaighthe

To: Feidhelm ó hÉalaighthe, Minister for Internal Affairs
From: His All Holiness Stephanus III of Constantinople (New Rome) and Drakopolis, Ecumenical Patriarch

Minister,

We greet you with the joyous news that the shepherds heard from the holy angels - Christ is born of a Virgin!

His Grace Stylianos of An Bealach Bui has been invested Bishop of Anacea by the Holy and Ecumenical Synod of the Church of Constantinople. His right is ordained by the Holy Synod and no earthly power, including the government of which you are a distinguished part, may set aside his investiture. Any Christian who would stand between a bishop thus legitimately invested and his diocese places his continued communion with the universal Church in serious peril, just as he most foully and outrageously denies the faithful of that diocese the bishop's full ministry.

While Bishop Stylianos has been provided with such apartments and assistance as can best facilitate the conduct of his responsibilities as Bishop of Anacea, his unlawful banishment from his own diocese and indeed, his own country, constitutes an outrageous affront to both his basic human rights as an Anacean citizen, and to the basic human rights to religious freedom of the Orthodox faithful of Anacea. There is no standard in international law according to which a citizen can or should be denied entry to his own country. The banishment of Bishop Stylianos then can only be construed as an act of political oppression, both against His Grace's person, and against the Orthodox faithful.

As Ecumenical Patriarch, We weep for the faithful in Anacea, who now more than ever suffer spiritual deprivation, which wounds the soul far worse than any physical deprivation suffered in the long years of armed struggle in your island. For at the worst of the violence and bloodshed, the Orthodox faithful were never denied their spiritual father, their shepherd, to tend to their devotions and consciences. As a result of your government's refusal to allow their Bishop to return to them, there will be no doubt some of the faithful, tearing at their breasts as they do so, who will cry out that the so-called peace is far worse than the war. While their physical bodies are, we pray, unbroken by the ravages of bloodshed, the spiritual body of the Church is shattered by this attempted act of religious decapitation. We can only pray that through the soothing intercession of the Holy Theotokos, the deep grief felt by the Orthodox faithful does not translate into fresh bloodshed!

We ask that you and all members your government bear in mind the fundamental human rights of the Orthodox faithful of Anacea, the fundamental human rights of the Bishop himself, and the impossibility of any Christian, even if he holds public office, knowingly preventing the lawful Bishop of a diocese from tending to his flock and remaining a Christian. Finally then, We pray that Holy Wisdom come to you and your government, and that true Christian mercy will triumph in your hearts, and that you permit the return of the lawful Bishop of Anacea.

May the Virgin and Christ-child protect Anacea and intercede on behalf of its faithful,

Stephanus
Archbishop of Constantinople (New Rome) and Drakopolis
Ecumenical Patriarch

The Kaitan-Leagrian Lunacy Continues

It was surely a foolish man (to say nothing of his short-sightedness and lack of intellectual imagination) who clambered atop the soapbox of international discourse and declared to the world at large, doubtless with boundless conviction, that imperialism had gone out of fashion. Even the most timid, cursory and disbelieving glances of our self-righteous Atlanticists at the mess that is New Deasrargle will admit, granted with the accompanying toadying weasel words and feebly muttered excuses, that here is an island that stands testament to the folly of the West’s democratic, monarchical Evangelism.

And what folly! The always proselytising Danaan federacy, that Sunday-morning door knocking Mormon of the international community, in delirious raptures after civilising her nearest neighbours and bringing to them the shining beacon of concordant servitude (not to mention collecting every colour of the multiethnic rainbow), set her eyes on the next unsuspecting target of her missionary zeal. That target was variously New Deasrargle (so much better than the sectarian-strife torn original, Deasrargle Mark I), Kaitan-Leagran, or Anacea, depending on which God and His temporal emissary on Earth you worshiped and had sworn fealty and allegiance to, respectively. Where the party flunkies of the Dear Leader’s workers’ paradise had so disastrously failed (there would be no bountiful Socialist harvest this year), the well meaning fair-weather Federationists of the Danaan federacy would surely succeed.

If anything positive can be said about the People’s Fiefdom’s failure in New Deasrargle (and it was a failure, few comedians could have dreamt up so farcical a situation as that of a South American Soviet-era relic attempting to install the lost scion of the sun worshiping, human sacrificing Aztec God-Kings on the non-existent throne of a barren volcanic island neatly divided into murderous Protestants, Greeks and Catholics) it would be that at least it was quick. The Danaan federacy by contrast has tried for the long and lingering variety of failure. Perhaps hoping to outdo their Eastern bloc allies, they have put forward as monarchical candidate a Hindu noble of the Nayar caste (why they should believe though that she would prove more palatable to the religious xenophobes is anyone’s guess, your columnist thinks the answer is Evangelical faith, the Lady of Liberty overcomes all Earthly bounds, and if mixing Eastern and Western elements works in Danaan politics, why not on an island where people kill one another over such important questions as the Virgin’s Immaculate Conception?).

But then carrying on the traditions of your enemies and intellectual rivals seems to be the order of the day in this sorry mess, witness the quiet adoption of all of Fitzsimons’ coup changes save the dropping of the monarchy (they really do have their hearts set on a king, bless their kind souls). Of course the monkey does what the monkey sees. The Danaan federacy is a case in point, preserving their fairy monarchy in the face of a half a dozen constitutional changes and a sightseeing migration through the vast spectrum of government power devolutionary possibilities, from absolutist kingdom to commonwealth to confederacy and who knows where next. Here is a nation that claims to be all things to all men, a smorgasbord of the world’s cultures and religions with her tacked on monarchical elements as shiny afterthought, a holdover from the days of semi-barbaric tribalism and memories of mystical domination. The Pantocratorians, that other major actor in the West’s intervention in New Deasrargle entertain no such pretensions, here is a nation that’s an empire and proud of it.

Having enslaved their nobility to the point where the members of the cowered class now make little more than entertaining court ornaments, or trifling feminine diversions for the Emperor’s quite obviously compensatingly virile, but none to bright, son, the Unreconstructed Male of New Constantinople (your columnist will leave the trait that he is compensating for to your own imagination), the Pantocratorian monarchy secretly dreams of abolishing their bothersome, but not all that much more democratic, and certainly no more progressive, Parliament and returning to the Eastern absolutism of the endlessly Romanticised pre-Fall era. And why should they not, when the cowardly and intellectually dishonest Pantoctratorian Left refuses to stand up against what is probably one of the most embarrassingly backwards institutions (and your columnist is being charitable) in the much envied First World (a grossly misleading term, as it lumps together these other nations with Xirnium, which is just insulting, especially to your intelligence, your columnist suggests “Rich World”), having become little more than effete liberal apologists for the past atrocities of the regimes’ demented ruling family.

But to speak of past atrocities is wrong, the conditions have long been abysmal in Pantocratoria’s sweatshop Catholic proxy colony, policed by the notorious mass murdering thugs of the Ambaran Crusade. Of course the Danaan federacy would never dream that Pantocratoria is really sponsoring and arming these people, nor the Greeks of Anacea, or that they would have been quiet happy had said “Crusade” managed to slaughter every other theocratic faction completely, oh heavens no! The neo-Byzantine Paleologus-cum-Bourbon imperial dynasty is of course the primary sponsor of the inflammatory pro-Catholic, pro-Anacean propaganda being put out by the canonical Peacock News channel, tired mouthpiece of that insidious conglomerate the Peacock Holding Group, that late state capitalist trust that has made an anti-democratic, anti-leftist alliance with the western Atlantic monarchical powers that be. Putting a pretty face on ugly Catholic fascism is of course the ever vapid Virginia Merlot (watch carefully and whenever she, or any other Peacock anchor, speaks one can even see the puppet strings being pulled).

Maybe the foreign minister was right all along, but to suggest so immediately elicits cries of dismay and horror from our ivory-tower dwelling, absinthe drinking intellectual betters, inquisitors of the politically correct dogma of Xirnium’s leftist Decadents. No, much better was the Danaan approach, puff out your chest and feel great and important by bossing around a little island full of people who would otherwise be killing each other, which is what they’ll be doing anyway, or rather which is what they are doing anyway. And all the while the Panto-Danaan alliance funnels millions of dollars into the backwater state via their humanitarian Blood for Royalty programme, which your columnist has it on remarkably good authority is being used to arm the state in preparation for the conquest of nearby Noble Savages. The cycle of insanity continues, but one politician at least has the right idea, that Xirnium should oppose the spread of monarchical government on principle!

The Amestrian president, in a rare display of intellectual insight, or more accurately an unexpected lapse of her usual nonsensical and deeply mistrustful worldview, recognised that that Deasrarglean islanders’ so-called leadership had become expendable and should be put to the torch sooner rather than later. It is truly sad when the much over publicised and only slightly less unoriginal (not to mention unfortunately named) Bradlian model’s paranoid holdover of nineteenth century military Caesarism, its main historical context being the watering of Amestria’s meadows with the blood of those waving red flags, has realised facts that those craven monarchical democrats failed to. The Pantocratorian empire and Danaan federacy have attempted to set up a banana monarchy in the western Atlantic, all the while profiting from the deaths and chaos there underway and, in the case of the Sun-King’s descendants, satisfying their most backwards chauvinist elements. For two states desperately in need of validation and legitimacy, the least imaginative method of providing both is the infliction of carbon copies of their flawed system on as many other unfortunate people as possible. This is of course precisely what they have done.

Hyàcinth Verulâm is a columnist for the Speculative Contrarian and the author of Comparing Apples and Oranges: Normalising Political Delusions across Cultural Gulfs, and other assorted works.

Old Allegiances

There are few forces on Earth more powerful than the power of self-deception. What other power could ever be great enough to convince white supremacist xenophobes like Eléanor Sabelinà and Hyàcinth Verulâm that they are, in fact, somehow, someway progressive? Of course, they believe their attitude harks back to the Trans-Atlantic tensions between the great democracies in the latter half of the twentieth century, a time when many progressives sincerely feel that one or two superpowers were illegitimately undermining democracy and the self-determination of peoples to serve their own, generally reactionary, ends. Why they should take the same attitude towards the world’s largest post-colonial social democracy (and more or less every other nation on Earth)? Ms. Verulâm’s latest little rant makes clear that they don’t. Their attitude has less to do with Europe’s history with the former United States than it does with Europe history with Algeria, Angola, the Congo, Rhodesia and Indonesia. Indeed, Sabelinà and Verulâm’s speeches about the superiority of European culture would fit snugly in the mouths of the first Europeans to set foot upon Vasconia’s shores, baring guns, alcohol and disease-ridden blankets. Of course, Sabelinà spreads diseases under her blankets, not through them.

In addition to the garbage she usually produces about Xirnium’s innate superiority to everyone else and her usual hate-filled bile aimed at the rest of the world, Verulâm showed her true colours in her latest article on the subject of Kaitan-Leagran, where she openly mocked the racially inclusive and democratic character of this country, apparently preferring the homogenous, Nordic Xirniumite population which so comfortably made itself an ally of Adolf Hitler sixty years ago. She also viciously attacked one of the prospective bailiffs of Kaitan-Leagran, who, incidentally, was at no point put forward by the Confederal Government or even by herself but was approached by the Kaitan-Legrians on their own initiative, simply for being Hindu and Hindi. Certainly a woman like Baroness Euphosor is unworthy to sit in such exalted company as Aryan Princess Eléanor, descended from Xirnium’s superior Nordic barbarians and thus fit to rule the rest of us.

Of course, who can blame poor befuddled Xirnium if, in terror, she wants to see the Confederated Peoples as just another name for the old, European Danaan High Kingdom and United States of Laneria? Old, dying Xirnium can’t deal with all those brown, black, red, yellow and, yes, white faces daring to look her in the eye. We are not fawning anymore. We are not thankful than Xirniumite forces are less brutal than the Wermacht allies. We are not grateful than Xirnium invades the post-colonial world less often than Knootoss. We no longer beg to be included in her exalted civilisation. We watch her once great culture fall slowly but surely into decline as the Xirniumite people wallow in their own national rot and we neither mourn nor rejoice but watch them with a cold and absolute indifference. What is Xirnium to us? She is already dead. Perhaps Eléanor Sabelinà and Hyàcinth Verulâm should simply drop all pretense, and admit what they are. The honest of hate of even the vilest bigot is preferable to the sad delusions of a dying culture.

Fathi Fahim is a columnist with the New Dawn Review

‘Think about it for a moment, do any of you know anyone from Valmôril? Have any of you ever been to Valmôril? Do you even know anyone who claims to have been to Valmôril?’ asked Ingrid van Østerby-Angôlistàdal, a correspondent for the Europe-Atlantic Focus and freelance journalist for Neúvenärta Radio 3XV. ‘Well there you go, it clearly doesn’t exist.’

A few of the panel laughed a little and one or two smiled tolerantly, but the joke seemed rather lost on Edvárd Haúkshlid, political writer and columnist for the Iáthërn Courant and Teútabêth Gazette. ‘Well I think Valmôril has a population of about twenty million people,’ he explained rather humourlessly, ‘I’m fairly certain it must exist. Next time I’m in Angâmar I’ll be certain to stop by and make sure.’

‘See, but he’s obviously just part of the conspiracy,’ Ingrid explained with an arch smile.

For most normal Xirniumites, nine o’clock on a Sunday morning was an horrendously ungodly hour typically spent snuggled up warm in bed, with their heads buried away under the sheets and bedclothes and the curtains drawn tightly shut. Some of those strange enough to be awake at such early an hour might have been watching Whistleblowers, a self-described “fast-moving” treatment of the week’s politics with interviews, casual discussion, and wry analysis.

The studio resembled one of the smaller and more intimate lounges of a grand hotel, with long, uncluttered windows behind them, offering the typically prosaic cityscape panorama that usually served as background for such breakfast programmes. A few heavily stuffed and buttoned leather armchairs with a matching sofa provided seats for the panel, with a damask-covered coffee table in the centre of their gathering, on which a tea set was arranged accompanied by a few shiny tiered stands containing light morning refreshments and one or two bottles of wine, each an exciting different hue.

Sitting on the left and filling in for the gentleman who usually held the controversy-stirring, incendiary, populist tabloid pundit position on the panel was Hyàcinth Verulâm, a step down for the programme it had to be said. He was a somewhat stout, middle-aged man with a difficult to place scruffiness about him despite well groomed hair and a clean-shaven face, bleary blue eyes prone to a wateriness that spoke of his love for drink and reminded one of the psychological, metaphysical Taraskovyan mystics in the East, and the sickly, greyish pallor of a habitual snuff taker.

The host of Whistleblowers, a well known political journalist named Vindician Thorvâholt, noticed that his mind had started to wander as Hyàcinth treated the panel to an unnecessary and unasked for, not to mention lengthy, explanation of the Valmôril Conspiracy meme’s obscure origins and popularity. Sensing impending rebellion and that some of the other panellists, especially the stern looking editor-at-large of the Intelligencer, were beginning to look rather murderously at the long-winded columnist, the host decided to quickly interrupt.

‘Anyway, Mister Verulâm, what on Earth are you doing writing another book?’ asked Vindicián, a smile of amusement hovering about the corner of his lips.

‘Oh you noticed that, did you?’ smiled Hyàcinth. ‘I didn’t know that it had yet circulated amongst the literary circles of such exalted and refined taste. How did you find it?’

‘Well I, at least, will say that with your prose style you’ve succeeded in carrying the modern experiments in the English language to their furthest development yet,’ said the editor-at-large of the Intelligencer, the tone of his barbed compliment as nothing compared to the look of amused contempt in his eyes.

‘For the benefit of viewers at home,’ explained the programme’s host, ‘and indeed perhaps also for some of our panellists,’ he added in reply to an inquiring glance from Edvárd, ‘this is of course Lays of the North, Towards an Aural History of Ancient Xirnium. Mister Verulâm’s seventeenth book.’

‘In which amongst other things,’ Hyàcinth elaborated, ‘I advance the contention that Xirnium’s musical heritage served as a catalyst for the blossoming of reasoned intellectual thought in Europe and made possible what I like to call the “Xirniumite Exception”, that is the evolution of a nationwide non-theistic, though not necessarily non-deistic, Enlightenment movement. Which is a theme I touched on briefly in my previous book, Deconstructing Romantic Agony.’

‘A most stimulating read, to be sure,’ agreed the editor-at-large of the Intelligencer. ‘Much like his previous seventeen books. Speaking of which, a certain Mister Fathi Fahim was similarly impressed with your latest article.’

‘Oh yes, I think I glanced briefly at the piece,’ remarked Hyàcinth. ‘Published in some unimaginatively named journal called the New Dawn Review, as I recall, not that there’s such a thing as an “old dawn” to review, is there?’

‘Now Mister Fahim made some rather strong criticisms,’ the Vindician mentioned, pleased that the panel were gradually drifting back to the realm of political discussions. ‘Would you like to comment?’

Hyàcinth sighed. ‘Well you know, I don’t really care to respond to the illogical non sequitur that, because of the perceived injustices that our doctrinaire historians keep reminding us the Europeans inflicted on the poor, vulnerable native peoples of the New World, I must therefore be a racist,’ he said. ‘This bizarre post-modernist, politically correct preoccupation with the past, this repudiationalist outlook that says we must constantly rethink our understanding of history lest it offend the sensibilities of others strikes me as quite pathetic and pointless, not to mention intellectually lazy. Xirnium of course never provided plague blankets to the New World. Our medieval settlements in Ambâlieva and in Vardimëldë were first discovered by Xirniumite adventurers and explorers in the Dark Ages, neither island ever had a prehistory. I know that elsewhere the intelligentsia seems obsessed with atoning for the perceived crimes of its country’s past, but really I would have hoped that here in Xirnium we might be mature enough to dispense with such self-hating silliness.’

‘Oh, good heavens...’ complained Edvárd, looking annoyed.

Hyàcinth looked pleased at having riled up the literary socialist and took a sip from his glass of absinthe, yellowish green in colour because it had not been mixed with water, savouring the bitter taste of wormwood. ‘Well it’s true, I rather think our chattering classes are removed from reality as it is without inventing additional reasons for us to feel bad about ourselves,’ he said. ‘Even so, at least here they rarely descend to the point of disguising an ad hominem rant as something resembling a reasoned rebuttal.’

‘You’re much too generous,’ Ingrid replied dryly. Her eyes narrowed further, in obvious disapproval, as she saw him drain his glass.

‘Then again, at least when Xirnium’s left-wing sophisticates engage in self-aggrandisement they do so in the knowledge that we have something to boast about,’ Hyàcinth continued. ‘Whether it be culture or politics, our achievements are well known. In the Resurgent Dream by contrast we have a massive morass of bureaucracy and winding, overcomplicated government that exists at the expense of the general public and local communities. People do not benefit from government that has so many different levels that the people have difficulty comprehending how it functions let alone whether it is functioning well, and yet we constantly hear of the primacy of their system.’

‘I think we’re getting rather off topic…’ warned Vindician.

‘No, but wait I was just about to make my point,’ Hyàcinth assured the host as he finished refilling his glass. ‘You see, when Mister Fahim accuses the Eternal Republic of institutionalised racism and xenophobia, he does so whilst looking through the distorting multihued prism of the multicultural mess that is the Resurgent Dream. Since we happen to have fair skin, and that’s a fact that Mister Fahim and the liberal repudiationalists he leads won’t let us ever forget, apparently we’re supposed to ask forgiveness for it, and since we aren’t exactly thrilled with the idea of being inundated with foreigners from vastly different cultures and ways of life, many of those quite hostile to our Western civilisation, the only conclusions is that we must fall under the simplifying and self-reassuring category of racism.’

‘Really, Mister Thorvâholt, is it necessary for us to listen to this nonsense?’ asked the editor-at-large of the Intelligencer. ‘Perhaps it’s never too early for our distinguished colleague to start drinking, but it’s rather too early for me to have to deal with meaningless, blithering vitriol.’

‘Yes Mister Verulâm,’ agreed Vindician with a nod, ‘conclude your rant, I mean your argument, and then I think we’ll move on to the next segment of the programme and comment on the week’s most incisive political cartoons and caricatures.’

‘Oh I’m quite finished,’ Hyàcinth replied, looking smug as he took another sip of absinthe.

Standing on a tower of the ironically named Freetown Castle, Gearoid Stiobhard watched the sun set across the capital and, indeed, across the island. The auburn sun cast a strange light across the city, a city now bustling after being a battered mausoleum of man's hatred of other men for nearly half a century, and the First Minister could not help but be reminded of the words of a song.

"With tangerine trees and marmalade skies," he uttered to himself in a soft voice.

"Sir?" said a voice behind him. The First Minister was, unfortunately, not alone in enjoying the view. Not that he minded Stephen Boyle, his principal private secretary, or his company. It was that his presence reminded Stiobhard that the business of politics could be avoided forever."

"Nothing, nothing," he muttered, turning away to face the younger man, "Just the words of a song."

As it appeared to the First Minister, Boyle was not so much a man as some manner of coat hanger for paper. Perhaps one day the money could be found to make the governance of Kaitan-Leagran a 'paperless affair' but, until then, it would be left to men like Boyle to regularly transport the contents of rainforests for their masters.

"I take it," said Stiobhard with a sigh, "That you have not found me to enjoy the view?"

"No sir," said Boyle, adjusting his large circular glasses that some implied gave him the appearance of a certain fictional young wizard of popular acclaim, "I have news in regards to the budget proposals."

"Oy vey," uttered the Minister adopting an utterance from another language, "I hope progress has been made."

"Some sir, some."

Stiobhard sometimes wondered whether a political system could be too complicated. Power-sharing government, necessary though it was, frequently turned the tiniest decision into acts of almost earth-shattering importance. Farm subsidies were an example of this. And not just farming, but what about fishing. 'It's all very well,' blustered a Greek commentator only the previous evening on television, 'to give money to idle Gaelic farmers, but what about the stout sons of An Bealach Bui who toil at sea and yet are rewarded only with starving children and diseased homes?'

'Somewhat overdramatic,' thought the First Minister, 'but effective, alas.'

"What sort of a timeframe are we looking at now then?" he asked after a moment.

"Maybe another three weeks, at most a month." replied Boyle.

"And then we move onto the next crisis."

Boyle said nothing, but provided an acknowledging grunt.

"And I can probably tell you what that crisis will be, sir."

Stiobhard said nothing, but instead turned towards the city. His eyes followed the main thoroughfares of the capital towards the heart of the metropolis. The
Palace of the Oireachtas, the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception, the National Presbylutheran Church and, near to the ceremonial centre, a new building of black volcanic basalt. Its style of architecture was completely alien to Kaitan-Leagran, which, of course, was the point. It had been commissioned and built by the Provisional Government almost a year ago and, based on current estimates, would be ready in six weeks. Time enough for it to be knocked down, hushed up and never spoken of again.

"The Freetown National Mandir."

"And specifically to what it represents."

The First Minister groaned. He was now well and truly tired of this issue. How long had this blasted business of bailiff dragged on for?

"What are the delightful souls in the party saying now?" he said in a weary voice.

"Some are coalescing around the Baroness, others are holding out for a more, what are they saying? Oh yes, a 'more authentically Kaitan-Leagrian person.'"

"What's the whole point of this to find someone who wasn't Kaitan-Leagrian, i.e. not a small-minded bigot.”?

"Maybe sir, but I hear tell that some of the more, shall we say, forthright members of the party are saying a strong Protestant candidate might provide the moral leadership required during these darkened times."

"What?" The First Minister could scarcely believe his ears. Did these people have any idea what the point of the whole, sorry exercise was? Did they think that the Baroness Sahana Saandeep of Euphosor had been all but chosen for a laugh? For shits and giggles?

"No no no, this sorry affair has gone on for too long Boyle, and the time has come to out a stop to it."

"May I ask how, sir?"

"The Budget man, it won't pass until Saandeep has been ratified."

Boyle gasped loudly and nervously adjusted his glasses.

"But, First Minister, if the budget isn't passed soon then...then...it'll be chaos. No one on a government payroll will be...well, paid."

"Brinkmanship, my boy, brinkmanship. Two birds with one stone and whatever other proverb you care to choose. It's the only way we can get it sorted."

"One wonders sir," spluttered Boyle, "What the Eternal Republic will make of it."

"The Eternal Republic," spat Stiobhard, "The Xirniumites, for all their talk, amount to precisely nothing in this world. 'How many tank divisions does the Pope have?' once asked Stalin and, loathe though I am to admit any other similarity, I must confess that I feel the same thing about Sabelinà and the others of her wretched ilk. I have made it a policy of this Government, Boyle, to ignore the Eternal Republic until such time that they either grow-up and accept their diminished status in the world or, conversely, until I see a Xirniumite gunboat in that harbour. Until then, no amount of cutting or witty newspaper articles will affect the policies of this government."

"I hope you're right sir, for all our sakes."

Stiobhard smiled but said nothing, instead turning and watching the sunset.

Seamus Mac Liam sat in his office, cradling a glass of whiskey, as the wind howled past his window like a swarm of hungry ghosts. The oppressive atmosphere outside was aided by an unusually dark night, as the usually clear Kaitan-Leagrian night was smoothed in a dark bank of cloud that had rolled in from the Gulf of Vasconia.

"You know," said Mac Liam, knocking back his glass and waiting for the fire in his throat to ease before he spoke again, "I honestly didn't think he had it in him."

The men and women gathered around his desk, the beating heart of Fianna Kaitan-Leagran, continued to look down. By the expressions on their faces, an observer would have concluded that a much loved relative lay dead in the next room. It was Orlaith ó Buachalla, the indomitable representative of Carrickmacseain West, who eventually broke the silence.

"I always thought that Stiobhard was a snake in the grass," she declared to the small crowd, "I don't see why we should be at least the bit shocked by this affair."

Mac Liam said nothing and instead swirled the remaining whiskey around his glass.

"Perhaps not," he said at last, "But I didn't think he would stake his all on the Baroness of Euphosor."

"Baroness!" scoffed ó Buachalla, "You know, I can't help feeling that the Xirniumites are right. Maybe this is a foolish monarchical endeavour. Why do we need a Bailiff anyway?"

It was the turn of Mac Giolla Bháin, the Chief Press Officer of the Party, to interject now.

"I don't think it really has anything to do with the person of Saandeep," he said, "I think the reasoning of the Provisional Government was that a King, a Bailiff, whatever you want to call it, would bind the nation together better than an elected president. I mean, it's worked for Belgium."

"Oh well," replied ó Buachalla with a theatrical wave of the arm, "If it's worked for Belgium then how could we possibly question it."

"Need I remind everyone," said Mac Liam, his voice raised slightly, "That the Party never really had any objections to the office of Bailiff."

"It's just a question of who." said Mac Giolla Bháin, completing the sentence. Mac Liam said nothing, continuing instead to whirl his drink. Silence fell across the room again.

"Do you think the Party will accept it?" asked ó Séaghdha from Cappamore.

"Probably," replied Mac Giolla Bháin, "I think opinion was probably moving in the Baroness' favour, though I doubt that they will like the Democratic Protestants forcing their hands."

"You know what I think," said Mac Liam not looking up, "I think that the Constitution is a work in progress."

The silence resumed for a few moments.

"Which means?" asked ó Buachalla.

"Which means," said Mac Liam with a smile, "That there is always room for improvement. Sufficient improvement, one might say, to win the hearts and minds of not only Fianna Kaitan-Leagran but also every good Catholic on this island."

The assembled group looked at one another.

"Like what?" asked ó Buachalla again, her tone more inquisitive than confrontational.

"Well," said Mac Liam, "We can start with the issue of the name...."

* * * *

The discussion rumbled on into the night before a final draft of demands was made. Those Teachtaí Dála awoken in the early hours of the morning by the call from Central Office knew what they had to do, even if they resented the hour that they were informed. The wheels, having been set for so long, were now in motion once again.