NationStates Jolt Archive

Source : The Tribune - A Hong Kong regional paper

The Guangzhou index rose 3.4% after news of the Sino Republic Party's victory was broadcasted through television earlier today. Investors are cheered on by the pro-business and anti-unionist policies espoused by the party leader and newly-elected Prime Minister Leo Ma.

"For the last decade the Dominion of China has been calling for change. And today they made their voices heard, they have demonstrated and rallied in the streets, and today we shall storm parliament and give China the reform she so richly desires," Ma said in a press release earlier.

The incumbent National-Progressive Coalition was seen as an ineffective and divided government which achieved nothing, and their defeat was no surprise, analysts said.

Sino Republic Party's other policies are likely to cause consternation overseas. Amongst Ma's more controversial policies are the establishment of a Republic tribunal to establish a referendum on whether China should declare herself a republic, to pursue a nuclear weapons programme, and to confront Corbournne over the issue of Chinese claims on formosa.

The People's Republic of China to the north promptly issued a statement threatening pre-emptive strikes if it was found that the Dominion of China was developing nuclear weapons.

OOC: Forgive my somewhat verbose post, but I thought that AMW 2.0 deserved some fanfare in arriving at last. That, and I wanted to re-introduce my characters. Strathairn and Christina no longer have Australian accents, being native Brits, but most other characters retain their previous nationalities. Now, without further ado:

No. 10 Downing Street, London

The smell of coffee woke Sir Andrew Strathairn before his alarm did, drawing him out of bed with invisible hooks lodged in his olfactory glands. One did not become a politician without a healthy appreciation of caffeinated beverages, and Strathairn was a purist. His drink was strong, black Javanese coffee, and the odor was almost as strong–and as bracing–as the drink itself. He crammed his feet into a pair of fuzzy slippers by his bedside and snatched a bathrobe from off of the back of a nearby chair. His habits had, since the divorce, reverted back to those of a bachelor. It would take some time to mend his ways, and so his sartorial overnight storage methods left something to be desired. He pulled the bathrobe on, belted it and stood up. The pop in his right knee and its accompanying jab of pain, as much a part of Strathairn's morning routine as coffee or toothpaste, made him wince. He was getting old, he thought ruefully.

He slumped down the stairs, right hand on the banister and left trailing along the wall, skirted the Grand Staircase, and took a left into his private kitchen. Christina was already there, a number of manila folders open on the desk in front of her and two in her hands. She gestured vaguely at the french press on the countertop–there was a pen in her mouth– and grinned a morning greeting.
"What were the results from China," Strathairn said as he made his way over to the pot. He poured himself a cup and shuffled over to refill that of his girlfriend-cum-foreign minister. Christina spat the pen out on the table, earning herself a reproachful look.

"Go stuff yourself," she said in response to his unvoiced chastisement. "The SRP took it by a landslide, like we hoped. They might be rather more conservative in social policy than we are, but they're willing to stand up to the PRC and Corbournne, and that's enough in my book." Andrew sunk into the chair opposite and sipped his coffee.

"We should send Mr. Ma our congratulations," he murmured, distracted by one of the folders. "Any word from MI6 about their nuclear program? While I wouldn't mind having them in the club, I don't really relish the idea of conflict in the old dominion regions. We might have to do something about it, pact and such." He referred to the somewhat lapsed pact of mutual defense signed between Chiang Kai-Shek and Churchill during the Chinese Civil War.

"Yeah, that shouldn't be too much of a problem, all things considered. Mr. Ma was a sensible guy when I spoke to him last, and I doubt that he'd draw us into a situation like that without some kind of warning." Christina sipped at her coffee and grimaced. "Christ! Was this stuff grown near Chernobyl, by any chance?"

"Hush," Strathairn replied, mirth quirking his lips. "I'll have Benny lean on the fellows at MI6 when we meet in..." he checked the clock on the wall above the kitchen table "... a little over an hour. Now, breakfast?" He stood up and cast his eyes towards the refrigerator, trying to remember what was in the refrigerator from the night before. The perks of office included a staff and catered meals, but Strathairn found all of that a bit much to wake up to. By request, he was left alone between the hours of one to six in the morning, barring national emergencies, and used the time to sleep and fix his own breakfast. Christina, still engrossed in her briefings, made a noise that might have been one of assent or refusal, and so Strathairn settled on toast for the both of them. From experience he knew that dragging Christina away from her morning brief was a lost cause.

Hmm... toast. Bread in the toaster. Marmalade and butter on the table, knives. Plates. Glasses of orange juice. That should do it. The toast popped, startling Christina and occasioning a small landslide of papers. With a somewhat alarming chorus of curses going on in his periphery, Strathairn applied butter and marmalade to the two pieces of crisped bread, stowed the ingredients in his refrigerator–why did the staff insist on re-arranging everything?–and tried to conquer a bit of table space for two plates, two cups, and two napkins. After a few skirmishes against the Imperial Paper Army, he managed to reach a sort of cease-fire that was mutually acceptable, and he settled in to eat.

"Your toast is getting cold," he prompted.

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/1/15/UK_Crest.jpg/170px-UK_Crest.jpg
Foreign and Commonwealth Office
Dieu et mon droit.
Mr. Ma,
It is with great affection that I welcome you to the office of Prime Minister for the Dominion of China on behalf of HM Government. I congratulate you on your recent electoral victory, and hope that your time in office is fruitful and that the relations between our two nations remain as strong as ever. Ours is a challenging time, but I am convinced that you and your staff will be entirely equal to events. Please do not feel reluctant to contact our embassy in Guangzhou should you require the aid of HM Government in any reasonable capacity.

It is always heartening, in these times of trouble and unrest, to see an election run smoothly and the will of the people be done. While nothing less was expected in your case, we democracies must take what solace we can in seeing each other affirm our shared traditions of law, reason and the orderly transfer of power. The people of China will, I am sure, not regret their choice in the coming years.

I should hope that the ties, both commercial and diplomatic, between our two nations continue to grow. As a member of the commonwealth of nations, the Dominion of China is considered a favourable trading partner by HM Government, and it is my sincere hope that this will mark the continuation of a long and fruitful friendship.

I remain your Humble and Obedient Servant,
Christina Elise Lloyd, PC
Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs
Foreign and Commonwealth Office
Government of Her Majesty,
Victoria II Reginæ

(Some further introduction, etc)

The newly elected Prime Minister Ma scrunched up a piece of paper bearing the PRC diplomatic seal and carefully tossed the scrap into the bin. It was not the first threat he had heard, and definitely not the worst. The worst letters from the PRC usually blew themselves up before they got to his office, usually damaging the automated letter-scanning machine in the process.

"The Premier really is a bit of a dreamer isn't he...we effectively declare independence in 1987, and he still considers us a chinese territory administered temporarily by the British." he said to his new deputy Diana Lee with a chuckle, hoping to extract at least a little emotion from her. The previous deputy prime minister had died under mysterious circumstances a few months back and Ma was still trying to get to know the replacement. Now he could see why she was called the dragon lady.

"Yes he is...the worst governor of ours did ten times better than his beloved Mao." she said curtly, without looking upwards from her computer screen.

"Take a look at this email Diane, London send their congratulations. Why don't we organise a get-together? It's been a while since we've sent anyone there?"
"I'll send Patten." she said in the same curt tone.

Hong Kong

"Chris, it's been a long time. How are things with that family of yours?" the Prime Minister exclaimed.

Chris Patten shook hands with him and gave him a hearty embrace. The two men were co-workers back in the days of British administration under government. They had worked on an operation to fund pro-democracy activists in the mainland. Patten was in line to become the next governor of Hong Kong but ended up taking an executive role in the Guangzhou Stock Exchange following the declaration of dominion status.

"Nice suit...did they give it to you for becoming Prime Minister?" he chuckled in reply.

The two men engaged in small talk for a bit longer, talking about diverse topics such as the weather and the poor state of the English rugby team after the mauling by New Zealand, before Leo Ma finally began to talk shop.

"Now Leo, what is the state business that brings you here. I noticed the six cars full of bodyguards outside."

Ma took out a folder and placed in on the table.
"Chris, there's a job available for you if I can convince you to come out of retirement. I have yet to assemble my cabinet and I would like you to be my foreign affairs minister. We'd like to send you to England to represent us in a few weeks."

He opened the folder and took out a piece of paper with the party insignia.
"I've prepared all the relevant documents here. A statesman like you will have no difficulty slipping into this role...did I mention the excellent benefits package?"

The two of them smiled while Patten signed the documents.

----------------------------------

Ms Lloyd,

On behalf of the Dominion of China, I would like to enquire regarding the possibility of holding a conference between our two nations in London. Our representative shall be Chris Patten, who I believe is familiar with former Prime Ministers Thatcher and Major.

If you have any further queries feel free to contact me.

Diane Lee
Deputy Prime Minister of the Dominion of China

The Beddgelen Democratic Republic was a world away from the Dominion of China, but being blessed with the gift of the gab, Geletians offered up no shortage of opinions on the recent electoral results there.

The League of Beddgelen Communists of course focused on the instability and uncertainty inherent to a multi-party system with fixed terms and social splits, and ordinary Geletians tended to take the party line as at least a jumping-off point for discussion... which in itself was typically just an avenue to disagreement enough to justify a fight or other competition.

Relaxing in the roundhouse after a brutal international-rules football triumph over the Irish*, the Beddgelen national team waited for their bruised and bloodied opponents to join them for a drink, and talk turned to China. As archetypal Beddgelens, the players represented the wider community's view fairly well.

The first opinion put forward was from the game's top scorer, Obelix of Carnbrea, has it that the result can only be bad. "Market reforms, no doubt!" Briefly the discussion is sidetracked as others argue that China has to become more degenerately capitalistic before its people will be compelled to rise and fix things. Eventually a different interpretation is ventured, one which holds that the result has some immediate positives about it. "Surely this is an expression of the anti-imperialist awakening of the Chinese masses!" Says the balding coach, Geriatrix. Confronting British imperial identities and challenging rampantly imperialist and anti-Communist Corbourrne can't be seen as bad policies, can they?

(OTT tag, really.
*OOC: Gurg, I hope you don't mind, but I've imagined that Beddgelert, Ireland, and Australia regularly meet to battle it out in an international-rules competition drawing from the Australian Football League, Gaelic Football, and Geletian Rules Football traditions. Much like the Aussies and Irish do in reality, but with the added involvement of the Beddgelens, who bring the largest following to the similar sports, and tend to win out of sheer brute force and ridiculous indifference to personal wellbeing. I also imagine that international officials feel pressured or intimidated by the Beddgelens into often letting-slide 'roughhousing' that wouldn't stand in either AFL or Gaelic footy, which helps the Beddgelens no end. The Tamils have started off a cricket thing in BG, and we get obliterated by every part of the British Empire every time we play them, our football (soccer) team can usually beat any part of the Empire except England, with the odd exception, but in 'international rules football' I see the Beddgelens as the powerhouse and the Aussies and Irish attempting to battle out upsets against the Communist giants, or at least to survive each encounter with as few broken limbs as possible :) )

OOC: Don't worry about it, BG. Most of what you just said flew well over my head, since as an American to me football (or rather, soccer) is a thing that teenagers and some college students play, not a serious sport. While I do watch the world cup and am generally impressed by the players, I don't much care for or understand the rules. I'll just say, er, yeah.

Ms. Lee,
CC: Christopher Patten

The Foreign Office would be delighted to receive Mr. Patten, whose name I recognize. I am pleased that our relations continue to be strong, and look forward to his visit. Is there anything in particular which your envoy would like to discuss?

Regards,
Christina Lloyd

OOC: Don't worry about it, BG. Most of what you just said flew well over my head, since as an American to me football (or rather, soccer) is a thing that teenagers and some college students play, not a serious sport. While I do watch the world cup and am generally impressed by the players, I don't much care for or understand the rules. I'll just say, er, yeah.



LOL! Now that that is settled.

“Good morning Ms. Prime Minister,” came the annoyingly cheery voice from outside the warm cocoon of her comforter. She cracked open an eye, and nuzzled her head out of the covers while her assistant moved around her bedroom opening the drapes on her windows, letting the sunlight do violence to her sanctuary in the White House. She sat up, slowly, cursing her life that woke her up at a quarter to six every morning, and conveniently forgetting that her assistant must have been up much, much earlier to be dressed and prepared for her.

She slipped out of bed and moved to her couch in the private suite where the five major national newspapers for the Union and two from the Canadian Provincial Region were waiting for her. All of them lead with the results of the Chinese election yesterday, with smiling pics of Ma with his arms raised and a gloating smile on his face on the front pages. She sighed, noting that she would have to get to know another world leader, and the really popular ones at home were always so much more difficult to deal with. As she drank her coffee and turned on her laptop computer, she began to outline in her head the note of congratulations that she would have the Foreign Ministry develop on behalf of the people of Canada. Her counterpart in the Parliament of Canada, Prime Minister Stephen Harper had already announced to the Canadian press that he will be congratulating the new government of their previous Commonwealth brethren officially as soon as Parliament resumes sitting. She shook her head as she sipped her coffee and listened to her assistant begin to rattle off the itinerary for the day, Harper was already drawing criticism from Premier Dannie Williams in their ongoing feud between Ottawa and the Atlantic Accord Provinces. She did wonder how her minority government would fare when she offered her public congratulations later today. The Opposition was already critical of her foreign policy, calling for more intervention in international affairs and calling her isolationist policies ‘weak’ and ‘short-sighted.’

Well, she had to start her day sometime. She walked over and grabbed her pantsuit from the chair that it was laid out on and headed for the shower, suddenly stopping and saying, “Jennifer, could you set up a meeting with the Minister for Foreign Affairs and me, I think we should discuss our overall international vision. I think we may need a re-think, and the election is coming up.” With that, she began her day, the Oval Office awaiting her presence.

WWJD
Amen.

It was almost pitch black outside. The sun had gone down over an hour ago and it was completely overcast and snowing lightly. Baron Nikodim Mihailov sat in the the smoky dining room of the Alekeev Rail #135, arms folded on the bar watching the small television mounted to the wall in the corner. His beer sloshed back and forth in it's glass as the train rumbled over a particularly rough bit of track. The TV was muted but news stations subtitles were clear enough.
"So, Leo Ma has just been chosen as the next broken promise for South China" a voice from beside him said.
Looking over at the man who had quietly sat down next to him the baron recognized his old friend Mitrovan Strakov, a cousin of Prince Yulian of Zabaykalsky. Nikodim and Mitrovan had been friends since their days at the University of Irkutsk. The two of them frequently met on the 135 travelling from Chita to their rural estates and back on Fridays and Sundays.
"Ah, Mitro!" Nikodim cried as he clapped the lord Strakov on the back. "I had figured you must have stayed in Chita this week, I didn't see you come running when Olov there called that drinks were on him".
"No Niko, I was caught up in a conference call, damn these cell phones, the jump in the Guangzhou index gave us cause for some minor re-negotiations with..."
"Don't bore me with the details of your meeting Mitro, you know how board I get of my own" Nikodim said as he looked back to the television.
The train began to slow down as the voice of the conductor called out over the intercom the town they were coming upon. The two of them stared at the television screen until the end of the report.
"I wonder who paid to rig that election" Mitrovan speculated "I don't suppose the USQ has enough influence and I'm not sure this is outcome is really the best for the British."
"Come now Mitro, you can't still believe that every democratic election is rigged now do you? Sure that is the way democracy works in africa but it would be impossible to pull it off on such a large scale when the whole world it watching so closely" Nikodim tapped his knuckles a few times on the top of his friends head "You're as gullible as a peasant these days! what happened to the free thinker I knew back in school?"
"I am only joking, but I wouldn't go so far as to say it would be imossible. But who do you think Leo Ma is kidding? Northern China needs only to say 'boo' and the south will tuck its head like a turtle and cry of the British save them, South China is not strong enough to stand on it's own two feet, it would collapse within a year if it cut to many ties with Britain and declaring it's self a republic would do just that. Oh, and I will eat my hat if Ma can bring a resolution to the formosa dispute."
"You underestimate them lord Strakov, Southern China is like a thirteen year old boy, one day they will reach down and find they have a grown a set of balls and it won't take them long to figure out what they are for." Mitrovan wrinkled his face up as Nikodim continued "Just you watch, South China is more powerful than most of of the world gives credit and it won't be long before they start doing what the please with out fear of the north."
"Well then" Mirovan laughed "I raise a toast to South China, may they discover what balls are for!" Nikodim raised his glass and added
"And to his highness Tsar Pyotr, may he arive at that discovery as well".
The two of them burst out laughing as they clinked their glasses together. Mitrovan spilled a little on his shirt and cussed loudly as the train started off again with a lurch. He laughed again as the train rolled away from it's quick stop at the small station, after a few more drinks the train would stop again, Mitrovan would get off at his stop and find himself a peasant girl to harass while Nikodim would travel another half an hour to a small stop along an otherwise empty road where his driver would be waiting to take him to his home.

In Ceylon, reactions to the news of Leo Ma's election victory are mixed, and the Colombo government, not surprisingly, has little to say on the subject. Most Ceylonese citizens view the SRP's success as an unfavorable development, given that party's policy towards labor unions and its intention to develop nuclear weaponry. The modern Republic of Ceylon, for its part, was built largely on the shoulders of union activism and is nothing if not sympathetic towards the cause of organized labor, so the SRP's stance against them does not sit too well with the average citizen.

Likewise the Ma government's confrontational policy towards the PRC causes some discomfort in the Ceylonese foreign office, but at the same time diplomats are pleased that the Dominion plans to challenge Courbournne over the Formosa issue. Certainly there is little love lost between Ceylon and the imperial government seated in Tokyo, which the Republic tends to see as a threat.

Unwilling to antagonize the PRC, a major regional power by any standard, no public reaction is forthcoming from Colombo. There is, however, no change in Ceylon's diplomatic relationship with the Dominion of China and it is thought that Leo Ma and his new government will neither be troubled greatly nor offended if the RoC fails to register its strong support.

OOC: Don't worry about it, BG. Most of what you just said flew well over my head, since as an American to me football (or rather, soccer) is a thing that teenagers and some college students play, not a serious sport. While I do watch the world cup and am generally impressed by the players, I don't much care for or understand the rules. I'll just say, er, yeah.


OOC: Hee. It amuses me that the North Americans here seem to think that soccer and Gaelic and Aussie football are the same thing. Not by a long stretch! The Beddgelens play soccer, reasonably well (I'm just assuming they're about as good as Romania, Bulgaria, and Hungary combined, so, er, basically Romania with a Bulgarian or two thrown in), but Geletian football and the international rules version I've assumed is a much crazier sport. A bit soccer, a bit rugby, on a bigger pitch. Gaelic football uses a round ball, heavier than a soccer ball, and H-shaped goals with a net at the bottom, the Aussie game uses a more rugby/American-football shaped ball and four tall posts with no cross bar, in both games hands are used as well as feet... anyway, yeah, combining those and similar Geletian rules gets us our unique-to-AMW sport :)

Er, all right, sorry about the intrusion, China. That'll do!

Ms. Lee,
CC: Christopher Patten

The Foreign Office would be delighted to receive Mr. Patten, whose name I recognize. I am pleased that our relations continue to be strong, and look forward to his visit. Is there anything in particular which your envoy would like to discuss?

Regards,
Christina Lloyd

"Only about 700 pages of dossiers..." Patten said to himself as he typed up a suitable reply to Ms Lloyd. "Global politics, republicanism, defence, military procurements...and the like."

His plane was scheduled to leave Guangzhou inside the next two hours. He would have to hurry.

Dear Ms Lloyd,

Thank you for your quick reply. My administration is keen to discuss topics relating to global politics, to clear up any misconceptions regarding Ma's policy on Republicanism, and to discuss the possibility of military procurements.

I look forward to seeing you in London.

Yours Faithfully,
Chris Patten

Heathrow Airport

"Welcome to Britain, Mr. Patten." The Foreign Office functionary, a youngish man with a cheerful face, met China's diplomatic team in a specially cleared arrival gate. Uniformed policemen ringed the area, directing the curious travelers to move along. Patten's staff and luggage were loaded aboard carts and the entire group was chivvied along out of the airport. Though Heathrow was used to this sort of disruption, it never paid to leave foreign diplomats wandering around a busy airport where they might hurt themselves.

The trip into London was largely uneventful, with discussion focusing on such crucial matters as the recent Football World Cup, the new Queen's last public appearance, ("who knew! After Vicky took the throne, the monarchy's approval ratings in the eighteen to thirty male demographic rose a full sixteen points!) and a minor sex scandal involving a Quinntonian senator and a certain lady of ill repute.

Patten, safely installed in a room at the Savoy Hotel, would find in his room a bottle of wine and a card with the words: For the Hon. Mr. Patten, with regards. Tucked into the card was another, smaller one. The Foreign Office was not known for its conservation of paper. It read, in small black print: You are cordially invited to lunch with the Hon. Christina Lloyd, Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, tomorrow at noon. Respectfully yrs., Office of Foreign & Commonwealth Affairs, H.M. Government.

"Ah excellent, this women seems to like mixing business and pleasure," he mentioned to himself. He thought about heading down to the hotel swimming pool and exercising the rest of the night but then he realised the general public would have to be booted out and it would be too much of a hassle. In the end he downs the whole bottle and has an early night. The next morning, he awakes with a throbbing headache. Nothing that coffee couldn't fix, but it might be best for his assistants to drive instead. He would look fine and absolutely presentable with some freshmints to cover the smell of alcohol, and some makeup to cover the bags under his eyes.

Now he was ready for lunch with Ms Lloyd.

Foreign Office, Whitehall

Patten was shown into a smallish room with a bay window overlooking Whitehall St. At its center was a large round table with seats enough for Patten, his staff, and eight others. The room itself, paneled with mahogany and decorated with paintings, busts of famous British politicians, and dark drapes, smelled of cigar smoke and old paper. The chairs reeked of it, a relic of the early twentieth century meetings attended by men with pipes, and as a consideration to the nonsmokers of the modern world, the windows had been left open. It was a warm enough day, and Whitehall was blocked to automobile traffic, so the noise was tolerably distant and muted.

Patten was met by a woman in her early thirties who any diplomat would recognize as the British Empire's Foreign Secretary. She greeted him with a smile and an invitation to sit, gesturing towards the round table. Her staff were already at their places, and as the delegation took their seats a salad was brought out.

The conversation began, as most diplomatic meetings do, with idle pleasantries. Discussions of the state of the world, China's sports teams, and other unimportant topics gradually gave way to the real purpose for the meeting: determining what the new government's position towards Britain was.

"Forgive me for not being up to date," Christina said after a discussion of the recent election in China, "but our office isn't really clear what is meant by Republicanist policies. While there's nothing wrong with republics," and here her lips quirked a bit at the corner, "the FO is led to wonder what a declaration of republic would entail for Sino-British relations."

"No need to worry Christina," Patten said while sipping from a drink.

"The intention of the referendum is two-fold. Firstly it is to signify true independence and democracy. A constitution monarchy with strict rules for heredity succession is undemocratic, and Guangzhou would also like the head of state to be a resident in China.
Secondly, the referendum is intended to be a strong message to the People's Republic. They still think of the Dominon as People's Republic territory under foreign administration, and a fresh declaration will change that."

"I do emphasise that it is a public referendum and frankly speaking, Queen Vicky's popularity may mean the whole thing comes to nought. If the referendum is successful a President will be selected by Ma who will occupy a ceremonial role, and a Guangzhou Privy Council will become the highest court of appeal. The whole thing is strictly academic really, things will essentially continue as they are."

BUMP for a response from Christina!

In the Head Office of the Department of Finance of Corporate Capitalism, Emperor-CEO Magnus Ingenson sipped his mineral water.
"Hmmm. The Chinese have elected a new government, eh? This could provide a new and innovative opportunity for Corporate Capitalism to spread its influence further. Maxine! (the secretary), send a telegram to the Chinese at once offering them lucrative business opportunities and diplomatic ties. And put me on the phone to Ma at once. It seems we have the matter of weapons-grade uranium sales to discuss..."

And with this sudden and unexpected move, Ingenson stood up, finished his imported mineral water, and set about another day of business politics and strong-arm sales techniques.

http://www.nationstates.net/images/flags/uploads/corporatist_capitalism__0.jpg
"Каждый потребитель помогает нам заполнить наши карманы золотом"

OOC: Whoops, I completely forgot that this existed. I don't have the energy to post anything right now, but I'll hack something out before, er... the end of time?

Corporatist Capitalism: Apologies, but this thread is closed.

Can I have my Foreign Minister, Anthony Sterr, come and make an official visit?