NationStates Jolt Archive

Thud, thud, thud…

The debris from shellfire lay strewn across the corridor. Sunlight filtered in through several holes of varying size, casting a smoky appearance through the prevailing brick dust and demolished plaster that floated in the air.

Thud, thud, thud…

The Guard outside the double doors was dead. He had been alert at his post until the last moment. Now, he lay back against the wall, his rifle still grasped limply in both hands, his bloodied and tattered uniform a physical representation of the changes taking place.

Thud, thud, click, squeak, thud, thud…

The final corridor before the President’s Office was a bloodbath. The bodies of dead soldiers, ordered into a last ditch attempt to protect their Executive, decorated the floor and the walls in a grotesque pattern. Several bodies of non-uniformed men also lay along the corridor, their cheaper weapons a testament to the willpower of the enemy that had fought the State.

Thud, thud…click.

The door to the Presidential Office opened. The first of the four men to step through the door took a momentary glance around, and then stepped into the centre of the room, his footfalls heavy on the floorboards. Thud, thud… He then turned to look at the three men who followed him in.

The second man through the door was Peter Smith, a steelworker from the town of Holterprice whose youth-spent street thuggery, tarnished military career and subsequent discharge had bought him the position of Field Commander of the militia. He held an AK-47 tightly in his large hands, lest they drag along the floor, and a smear of blood ran across his sweat-soiled shirt. He had done no fighting, but had executed three wounded. The murderous bastard would get a medal.

The third and fourth men through the door were no less ugly in nature. Donald Atkinson was a tall, thin, and thoroughly unpleasant middle-aged polygamist with a string of violence accusations and a sadistic streak two miles long. He did not hold a weapon on principle, being an ex-Intelligence Officer accustomed more to inflicting pain through more interesting means. Frederick Yardley was short, slightly overweight and with as much hair as he had morality in embezzling government money.

Four men, with a basic dislike for each other, united in a greater hatred of the status quo. It is such times that not even God himself can aspire against the dreams of murderers, sadists and manipulative bastards, for these are the basic prerequisites for a revolution…

…along with a leader who could scare the murderers, sadists and manipulative bastards by combining the three qualities into that terrifying psychological cocktail resident within every man who ever decided to overthrow the status quo.

Kit Sharpe surveyed the other three men from where the centre of the room. His boots had trod blood across the cream carpet, and had now soiled the Seal of the President that adorned the material beneath his feet. With one gloved hand, he brushed dark hair out of his vision. A revolver was holstered in his belt underneath his leather trench-coat. Five of the six chambers were empty. Unlike Smith, he would be entitled to two medals.

Turning slowly, Sharpe walked across the carpet, the other three men following him. The halted fighting had only caused cosmetic damage to the Presidential Office, lined as it was with bullet-proof Lucite between the walls. The government was effectively decapitated by the time the Militia had got to the Palace, with the Congress building occupied and the military voluntarily standing down or seceding to the winning side. The shelling of the Presidential Palace had been ordered anyway.

Kit Sharpe leant against the large oak table underneath the bullet-proof windows, and discarded the slumped corpse of the democratically-elected Executive with a single deferential push. He then turned, standing in front of the desk, and looked at his comrades-of-necessity.

“Gentlemen,” he said quietly, in a studied English accent. “We have succeeded in the name of the revolution.”

That was all of which the Leader said for a moment. The silence extended into the seconds. The four men drank in the prospect of power.

With delicate precision, Sharpe reached into a breast pocket and transported a long, pre-cut Havana Cigar to his teeth. He then reached into another pocket, and lit the cigar with a bulk, silver lighter inscribed with a red star upon the broader side. Drawing momentarily, he then looked at the others as he exhaled.

“Gentlemen,” he said again. “As of now, the Revolutionary Council is now the ruling body of the State. You will all maintain the positions you had in commanding the Party and the Militia during the revolution. Tomorrow, we shall transport the economic and theoretical advisers from their safe-houses to form a government.

He took another drag. “We shall maintain a state of Martial Law,” Sharpe continued. “Smith,” he said, looking to the Militia Commander, “you shall organise putting our people alongside the military units that seceded, to keep them in line for the time being.”

Smith nodded. He then squirmed uncomfortably as Sharpe continued to state placidly at him, and within moments realised that the request was immediate. He turned, and disappeared through the door.

Sharpe turned back to the windows of the office. The sunlight was streaming into the room, casting a new light on its surroundings. In the distance, a wave of dark clouds was approaching, suggesting bad weather ahead.

Sharpe smiled, inhaling on his cigar. Then, he walked around the desk to take a seat in the now-vacant Presidential chair.

Thud, thud, thud...

Obviously closed until I make an international proclamation, which will follow in the next post. After that, this will be open to international comments by other governments as I set out the essential elements of my nation in this thread by showing the early days of the Administration and outline several characters.

Proclamation of the People’s Republic of Rooshda

Let it be hereby known that the former Democratic Republic of Rooshda has been overthrown by the brave and noble proletariat, unshackling the workers from the chains of the exploitative bourgeoisie and pressing themselves forward towards a worker’s paradise in the name of National Communism.

A People’s Republic is proclaimed, removing the controlled oppression of the state and replacing such injustice with the fatherly guidance of a National Communist government.

Under the emergency powers of martial law, the following instructions are set into effect:

1. The Revolutionary Militia is hereby recognised as an official military force of the state, with the powers associated with such a military force under the articles of Martial Law.
2. Ex-Military personnel shall formerly surrender to the nearest Revolutionary Militia members, or face trial for War Crimes and crimes against the people.
3. All military equipment shall be formerly surrendered to Revolutionary Militia forces.
4. All military bases and government institutions, civil broadcasting and communication establishments shall be formerly surrendered to Revolutionary Militia forces.
5. A curfew is enacted between the hours of 1900 and 0900 hours.

The following points shall outline the basis for the new governmental structure:

1. The government of the People’s Republic shall be headed by a Cabinet, chaired and appointed by the President of the People’s Republic and Secretary General of the National Communist Party
2. The workers shall have democratic representation within the People’s Congress, an elected body of men and women who shall vote upon all legislation put forward by the Cabinet.
3. State Business shall be carried out within Ministries, headed by appointed members of the Cabinet.
4. A Judiciary of the People shall be created to develop a People’s Constitution, and to defend said Constitution in the review of laws proposed by the Cabinet and enacted by the People’s Congress.

Long live the glorious Revolution! Forward National Communism!

Kit Sharpe
Secretary-General of the National Communist Party of Rooshda & Supreme Commander of the Revolutionary Militia

To: The People's Republic of Rooshda
From: Mr. White, foreign affairs officer
Subject: Revolution

It has come to our attention that your nation has recently undergone a rather violent revolution, and that revolution has succeeded. I understand that there was a significant amount of casualties, and that collateral damage was inflicted as the new party took power.

My government has two things to relay to yours. First, the Dominion of Emperor Pudu has chosen to recognize this revolution of the proletariat, and once established it is possible that we will encourage diplomatic exchange.

Secondly, in light of the fighting, and your subsequent no doubt rather chaotic society, we will be willing to supply both food and pre-fabricated buildings to serve to house and feed the people disturbed by the fighting.

I am sorry, but our nation does not produce any medical supplies that would be any good for yourselves, and as such you, should you need them, will have to look elsewhere.

Good day,
Mr. White

To: The People's Republic of Rooshda
From: Mr. White, foreign affairs officer
Subject: Revolution

It has come to our attention that your nation has recently undergone a rather violent revolution, and that revolution has succeeded. I understand that there was a significant amount of casualties, and that collateral damage was inflicted as the new party took power.

My government has two things to relay to yours. First, the Dominion of Emperor Pudu has chosen to recognize this revolution of the proletariat, and once established it is possible that we will encourage diplomatic exchange.

Secondly, in light of the fighting, and your subsequent no doubt rather chaotic society, we will be willing to supply both food and pre-fabricated buildings to serve to house and feed the people disturbed by the fighting.

I am sorry, but our nation does not produce any medical supplies that would be any good for yourselves, and as such you, should you need them, will have to look elsewhere.

Good day,
Mr. White

Official Statement from the People's Republic of Rooshda

We thank the Dominion for its concern regarding the current state of the People's Republic after the Revolution. We also greatfully acknowledge the Dominion's recognition of the proper government of the People.

We are currently undergoing some interior humanitarian issues, and recognise the need for outside support. We would therefore like to authorise with your nation an Emergency Agreement with the Dominion for the supply of foodstuffs to the People's Republic, until such a time as the crisis has settled and the industry of the country starts working once more.

Kit Sharpe
General-Secretary of the National Communist Party, Supreme Commander of the Revolutionary Militia

Secret IC:


Politburo Meeting, The Kremlin, Moscow, The Supreme Soviet Imperium Of The Pan-Soviet Union. Time: 6pm. Weather: Cloudy.


Dusk descended on the large urban sprawl that was the magnificent city of Moscow, and within the Kremlin, The Politburo meeting, chaired as always by Supreme Soviet Premier Comrade Vladimir Kuschev, had reviewed the Irate Moas Revolution, and now the Rooshda Revolution, with briefings by KGB Personnel.

The Irate Moas revolution had seemed true enough, but as the KGB had explained, along with the statement released, Rooshda's revolution seemed to be different.


"...National Communism?" Supreme Soviet Premier Comrade Vladimir Kuschev said in disgust.

"It would appear so, Supreme Soviet Premier Comrade." One of the hard-faced KGB officers present said, nodding.

Kuschev snorted, an audible sound of his irritation.

"The same as this 'National Bolshevikism' Yakshit that we heard of not so long ago?" Kuschev spat with venom.

A murmer of disquiet went up around the Politburo hall at the mention of it.


"We can not be sure-" Another KGB Officer began.


"WELL, BE SURE! BE FUCKING CERTAIN!" Kuschev roared.

There was a pause.

National Bolshevikism, or 'Nazbol' as it was abbrevaited too, was seen as a fifth column that Nazis had created, to form a false ideology that claimed Communist and Socialist ideals, to attract socialists and communists, but in reality was more Nazi in theory, Ideal and action, designed as a faction to divide and conquer communists and socialists with, through the division of communists and socialists, and hoodwink, assimilation, and false promises.

National Bolshevikism was hated by the Politburo, and it was a policy of The Supreme Soviet Imperium Of The Pan-Soviet Union to oppose it anywhere.


"We need to gather more intelligence, Supreme Soviet Premier Comrade." The first KGB officer said humbly.

Kuschev growled, his eyes focused on the others in the hall.

"Then that is what we will do. And we will wait and see."

Kushcev paused, a fire building within him.

"If they are Nazbols....then we will see to it that they are crushed like an ant...."

A storm of approval broke out in the room, with shouts of "Urrah" and the stamping of boots of the floor and hands on the Politburo table.

Kushchev allowed a smile of approval.

The Rooshdan Broadcasting Corporation was housed in a large building in the centre of Rooshdan City, the capital of the country. The building had been only partially damaged in the Militia’s advance on the Presidential Palace, with orders to preserve the building for future use rather than risk destroying a valuable means of propaganda and communication.

The building was several stories high and arranged in a rough L shape around two edges of a rectangular forecourt. Here, official vehicles were normally parked when not in use; television vans, director’s vehicles, equipment trucks to name a few. These were still there, but also accompanied by several drab green trucks and half a dozen Armoured Personnel Carriers, their new markings still wet on the woodland camouflage paintwork. Several soldiers stood milling about, Revolutionary Militiamen now in the hastily-redecorated uniforms of the former Rooshdan Army. Ak-47 rifles were held loosely at their sides as they patrolled the area. The curfew was just coming into effect, and groups of Militia were patrolling the streets in both military trucks and requisitioned vehicles, ensuring that the population of Rooshdan City maintained itself indoors.

The RBC building comprised mostly of offices, with several large studios on each floor for the purpose of broadcasting television and radio. In the largest of these studios, the two mediums had been connected, so that the product would be transmitted by both means. Studio One had been hastily repaired and redecorated for its coming purpose; a replica of the Presidential Office had been erected onstage, and the flag of the Democratic Republic had been replaced. In its position, the new symbol of the People’s Republic hung ornately from the same banner. Blood red, with the hammer and sickle in the top left corner, the flag was typical of most Communist states. However, the right-hand side of the red field was adorned by a large, gold R, symbolising the Nationalism element within the Party ideology.

Sharpe looked over the last few notes on his desk which held minor changes to his speech. He had been offered a teleprompter, but had refused and memorised the speech off by heart. He distrusted the wooden delivery that politicians gave through such means; he preferred to know exactly what he was saying in the only safe place he knew – his head.

The studio hushed in the remaining few seconds before the General-Secretary went live. This would be the first broadcast of either television or radio since the revolution had taken place. It was to be a historical occasion – largely because the winners wrote the history books.

Across countless televisions and radios, the static ceased. Visually, it was replaced by the red logo of the RBC organisation, and audibly replaced by the first stanza of the Rooshdan national anthem. In the studio, the cameras went live, and Sharpe was on.

For a few seconds, he did nothing. Then, he smiled at the cameras, took a sip of water from a glass, and began.

“Comrades and friends,” he began, his mind beginning to tick over the pre-planned words. “A great event has occurred in the history of our proud nation. The people have been freed.”

He paused again for dramatic effect. The cameras watched him with their hawk-like eyes.

“Two hundred years ago,” Sharpe continued, “a similar revolution occurred in our country. A despotic monarchy was overthrown. The people – starved, miserable, and oppressed – rose up and declared that they would take no more. They stormed the Palace, killed their tyrannical oppressors, and instituted democratic reforms. So reads Marx’s theories on the advancement of economic systems.”

“But the people did not go far enough.” Sharpe shook his head sadly. “Betrayed by the leaders of the revolution, the people merely replaced one set of masters with another – bankers, merchants, capitalists. They stripped away the old class system to replace it with a new organisational oppression; where wealth, not station, was important.”

“Today, my Comrades, we have taken the final step. The people saw their faults. They saw their oppression. They asked what they could do to change the system, and they did so.”

The Secretary-General paused for another sip of water. He then glanced down at his notes.

“Our system,” he continued once more, looking back at the cameras, “is fair and equal. Our programs for the country will ensure that the means of production are given back to the people. We shall undertake the following;”

“Firstly, absolute welfare shall be your government’s priority. We shall ensure that every man, woman and child is entitled to shelter, warmth, free healthcare, and employment. We shall make us equal, and we shall make us proud.”

“Secondly,” Sharpe’s voice began to rise in tone as his fervour increased. “We shall institute state control over the entire economy to ensure this. No longer shall the people be exploited by greedy, capitalist employers with no concern for anything but profit.”

“Thirdly, we shall aim for self-sufficiency. The doctrinal policies of National Communism state that, in order for Rooshda to become a worker’s paradise, we must address the problems specific to our own nation. We will not cower and beg to the international community, and we shall not compromise our policies for a little short-term comfort. The Soviet Union of years passed was exploited under the guise of ‘international socialism’ by Russia for nearly half a century. We shall not fall into the same trap.”

“Fourth, we shall institute democratic organisations to display the will of the people. Elections for a People’s Congress shall take place in two month’s time, to represent the voice of the people in the planning and execution of policies within our state. Let it not be said that the Rooshdan people did not choose the way in which Rooshda evolves.”

Sharpe paused. He eyed the camera, as if scrutinising every person in their living rooms. “Fifth, we shall track down the counter-revolutionaries and the enemies of the State. We shall not suffer treachery within our borders. The revolution has prevailed, and we are the Vanguard. Our job is to ensure the revolution’s protection.”

“We shall not fail in our proposals, Comrades,” Sharpe said. “We shall continue, and we shall evolve. The people spoke with voice, and when they were not answered, they spoke with arms. Now, they have both. Now, they are free.”

“Long live Rooshda and the Revolution.”

Encrypted Transmission from 'Comrades in Arms'

We are representatives of an organization called the Leafanistani Red Mafia.

We are here to make an offer you cannot refuse.

Needless to say we have been watching the revolution, even from the streets, even some of your fighters, we have arms and eyes everywhere.

We have taken notes, and would like to make an offer. Your weapons are outdated, the AK-47 too heavy, the round underperforming compared to today's standards. Upgrades are necessary.

We have a storefront, something secret, where without the knowledge of 'allies' and 'enemies' you will be able to obtain weapons you can only begin to imagine now. Type 80 tanks, T-62s, automatic mortars, AK-104s, AK-108s, AEK-971s, all manners of weapons. And at extremely low prices.

And if you just wish to arm yourself, we offer cheap deals on the AR-550, BR-545, MG-560 and SR-762. And even cheaper deals on the AR-7, and CFR-06.

So come to Universal Exports, you won't regret it.

http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=489651

[END]

*PACKET TERMINATED PREMATURELY*
*TRACEROUTE FAILED*

To: The People's Republic of Rooshda
From: Mr. White, foreign affairs officer
Subject: Revolution

The Dominion will immidiatly deliver the supplies requested, via flights of transports delivered to your most convenient airport. These flights will be guarded, as will the deliveries themselves, to protect against any attacks from your less, desierable, elements.

Six-hundred-thousand pounds of food will be delivered. We hope that this will aid you in your re-establishment of order.

Good day,
Mr, White.

Three months later...

The Rooshdan Worker
'The Newspaper of the Revolution'

Curfew Reduced, Industry Restarts under State Control
By Johnathon Peterson

The curfew put in place following the revolution has been reduced to the hours between 10pm and 6am, as industry begins to restart following the bourgeosie's defeat.

Workers went back to their jobs with a sense of jubiliation as the first State Economic Plans were put into place, giving them a sense of connection with their own labours.

The Ministry of Economic Planning, the newly created department dealing with state plans, went to work last week, following President Sharpe's inauguration and appointment of a Cabinet, with the unanimous approval of the People's Congress.

This marks yet another victory in the history of the revolution, following the peaceful elections of the People's Congress from representatives of the National Communist Party.

President Sharpe issued a statement, calling this day 'a glorious time to be alive.'

((Roosha: Check Telegrams))

Vice Premier Coyotepec Xoxoctic and the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Dr. Darius Wellington sat at a table reading over the reports of a new socialist nation taking root. Such an event was something to celebrate...the global revolution was somewhat slow these days. Complacency in an era of tyranny and oppression was not needed.

Vice Premier Xoxoctic sat back in his boss's chair - it was nice to have the Premier's chair for once - with Quetzalcoatl Nochtli leading the troops in the south, the Vice Premier had new obligations. Dr. Wellington sat up straight and said "I recommend that we assist them."

The Vice Premier eyed the intelligence and diplomatic memos regarding the nation - "promising indeed."

=~=~=~=

To: The People's Republic of Rooshda
From: Vice Premier Coyotepec Xoxoctic, the United Socialist Republic of the Aztec National League
Subject: Welcome to the world...

Greetings fellow revolutionaries,

The United Socialist Republic of the Aztec National League welcomes the People's Republic of Rooshda. We hope that the coming years will bring peace and prosperity upon your nation. Although your revolution has transpired months ago, we understand the need for aid as your nation settles down and develops. We offer any assistance, military, medial, engineering or other civilian aid that you may need. Furthermore, if you so wish, we can initiate an embassy exchange.

Furthermore, the ANL welcomes any Rooshdan official or citizen to our nation. In addition, Rooshdan civilian transportation vehicles are welcomed to use our facilities and the Panama Canal.

-Vice Premier Coyotepec Xoxoctic
The United Socialist Republic of the Aztec National League