Transatlas
02-01-2009, 19:51
OOC: I've been inactive for at least a year or so. I figure this is a way of explaining what's been going on in the country and to give some background. It's told in the past tense, so it's closed for now.
It had been a little over a year since the Colonels had seized power. That's what they were known as – simply “the Colonels.” They did not bother with any sort of self-aggrandizing pretense of forming a “Committee for National Salvation” or a “Council for Peace and Development.” No, one morning the armed forces had surrounded Government House and, lead by a young Group Captain, simply arrested the civilian government. The Colonels then declared the previous government to be null and that the new “National Executive Council,” comprised of themselves and two civilian collaborators, would take control of the country. They provided no explanation, no long-winded manifesto detailing the crimes and failures of the previous regime. They saw no need – their power served as its own justification.
Of course this was not a coup for merely its own sake. The Colonels were confronting what they saw as the fundamental problems facing the Republic. The economy was suffocating under inflation comparable to Weimar Germany, largely due to the failed post-colonial land redistribution program that had been used to enrich the members of the Marxist ruling party, which by now had devolved into a personality cult for the Republic's ailing president. The coup had initially been greeted with enthusiasm by the country's remaining opposition group, but this quickly turned to resentment as the Colonels made it clear that the movement and its left-leaning leader would have no place in the new system. Unlike the former ruling cadre, who's members had been shot within a few hours of the takeover, the opposition party was allowed to peacefully disband and its leaders found other work outside of politics. Those who had supported the ruling party were not so lucky. The weeks after the putsch had seen a bloody purge carried out in which local party leaders across the country had been shot. The Colonels were careful to ensure that the violence did not get out of hand and that “the threshing” as it was called served only to separate the chaff from the wheat and not to settle old rivalries between individuals.
Unlike their Marxist predecessors, the Colonels were careful to keep a low profile and to not advertise the methods being used to solidify power. There were no inflammatory radio broadcasts, no posters, no fiery speeches urging the people to aid in the purge, nothing that could directly link the junta to the large-scale murders of party members or alert the world to the killings. Instead the junta's agents infiltrated villages in the weeks before the coup, carefully assembling a list of former party members. This was not difficult to do, as during the days of the old regime party membership had been a sign of prestige and party membership was flaunted by those who had it. Taking a page from the playbook of another junta, the party members were taken from their homes in the dead of night and flown in helicopters over the great river that forms the Republic's northern border then thrown from the aircraft. The killings were swift – no time was wasted with torture and attempts to elicit false confessions. To the Colonels the party members represented a threat to both the regime and to the nation and these forced disappearances and death flights were seen as the swiftest way this threat could be eliminated. The purge also targeted the ten thousand or so Oriental businessmen and workers invited to the country by the former regime. While none of these foreign citizens were killed, it was made abundantly clear through several high-profile attacks by “unknown assailants” that they and the foreign government they represented were no longer welcome under the new regime.
The greatest benefit yielded by the purge, which killed an estimated six thousand members of the former ruling party, was that it eliminated the layers of corruption that had prevented the nation's substantial mineral resources from being exploited to their full potential. Within four months of the putsch, revenues from the mines had quadrupled and were being spent not on the enormous military machine that many would expect but on restoring basic services to the population. The Colonels were determined to cement a good reputation with the population. However the junta and its agents were also hard at work establishing a far-reaching domestic intelligence apparatus. They had no intention of facing the kind of messy public protests that had brought down similar regimes. From the start the junta planned to keep any rebellion quiet lest a public incident show that they had anything other than absolute control over the country.
This concept of “total surveillance” as it was called proved its worth when the Colonels faced the first challenge to their power a mere six months into their reign. The junta's Deputy for Agriculture, a foreign civilian hired to advise the regime on restoring its long-decrepit farming sector, had suggested that the two hundred thousand or so European farmers who had left the country since independence be encouraged to return. Those whose land had been confiscated and subsequently nationalized by the junta were promised it back. Naturally, this caused resentment among the majority native population who feared the return of colonialism and minority rule. In the south of the country protests were planned to coincide with the arrival of the first batch of Europeans farmers.
The junta's Central Intelligence Organization, a refinement of the previous regime's entity of the same name, quickly picked up word of the planned protest and infiltrated the organization planning the disturbances. The ringleaders, mostly members of the former opposition party, were rounded up before word of the protest could be passed to the wider community. Much to their surprise, the dissidents were not treated harshly. They were informed by the junta's security services that they were under constant surveillance, that nothing they could do could stop the arrival of the Europeans and that further dissent would not be tolerated. The men were then returned to their homes and two weeks later the first European farmers returned to work their land. There were no protests.
After one year of the junta's new economic policies the fortunes of the Republic had taken a drastic turn for the better. A new currency had been introduced which maintained an admirably stable rate of inflation, comparable to that of most developed countries. Public infrastructure and services, which had fallen to abysmal levels of disrepair and dysfunction under the previous regime, saw drastic improvement. Special attention was paid to the growing rate of HIV/AIDS infection in the country, and an aggressive program of antiretroviral distribution and education was begun across the country. This was done with the support of clergy and civic organizations, which, having been at odds with the previous government, were glad to receive the full support of the junta. Other diseases, such as malaria and cholera were combatted with equal vigor. International aid organizations, long wary of operating under military regimes, were relieved when they were told to “just build it” without being asked for bribes or kickbacks of any kind. To the junta, corruption was another disease and was rooted out as ruthlessly as any virus.
To be continued...
It had been a little over a year since the Colonels had seized power. That's what they were known as – simply “the Colonels.” They did not bother with any sort of self-aggrandizing pretense of forming a “Committee for National Salvation” or a “Council for Peace and Development.” No, one morning the armed forces had surrounded Government House and, lead by a young Group Captain, simply arrested the civilian government. The Colonels then declared the previous government to be null and that the new “National Executive Council,” comprised of themselves and two civilian collaborators, would take control of the country. They provided no explanation, no long-winded manifesto detailing the crimes and failures of the previous regime. They saw no need – their power served as its own justification.
Of course this was not a coup for merely its own sake. The Colonels were confronting what they saw as the fundamental problems facing the Republic. The economy was suffocating under inflation comparable to Weimar Germany, largely due to the failed post-colonial land redistribution program that had been used to enrich the members of the Marxist ruling party, which by now had devolved into a personality cult for the Republic's ailing president. The coup had initially been greeted with enthusiasm by the country's remaining opposition group, but this quickly turned to resentment as the Colonels made it clear that the movement and its left-leaning leader would have no place in the new system. Unlike the former ruling cadre, who's members had been shot within a few hours of the takeover, the opposition party was allowed to peacefully disband and its leaders found other work outside of politics. Those who had supported the ruling party were not so lucky. The weeks after the putsch had seen a bloody purge carried out in which local party leaders across the country had been shot. The Colonels were careful to ensure that the violence did not get out of hand and that “the threshing” as it was called served only to separate the chaff from the wheat and not to settle old rivalries between individuals.
Unlike their Marxist predecessors, the Colonels were careful to keep a low profile and to not advertise the methods being used to solidify power. There were no inflammatory radio broadcasts, no posters, no fiery speeches urging the people to aid in the purge, nothing that could directly link the junta to the large-scale murders of party members or alert the world to the killings. Instead the junta's agents infiltrated villages in the weeks before the coup, carefully assembling a list of former party members. This was not difficult to do, as during the days of the old regime party membership had been a sign of prestige and party membership was flaunted by those who had it. Taking a page from the playbook of another junta, the party members were taken from their homes in the dead of night and flown in helicopters over the great river that forms the Republic's northern border then thrown from the aircraft. The killings were swift – no time was wasted with torture and attempts to elicit false confessions. To the Colonels the party members represented a threat to both the regime and to the nation and these forced disappearances and death flights were seen as the swiftest way this threat could be eliminated. The purge also targeted the ten thousand or so Oriental businessmen and workers invited to the country by the former regime. While none of these foreign citizens were killed, it was made abundantly clear through several high-profile attacks by “unknown assailants” that they and the foreign government they represented were no longer welcome under the new regime.
The greatest benefit yielded by the purge, which killed an estimated six thousand members of the former ruling party, was that it eliminated the layers of corruption that had prevented the nation's substantial mineral resources from being exploited to their full potential. Within four months of the putsch, revenues from the mines had quadrupled and were being spent not on the enormous military machine that many would expect but on restoring basic services to the population. The Colonels were determined to cement a good reputation with the population. However the junta and its agents were also hard at work establishing a far-reaching domestic intelligence apparatus. They had no intention of facing the kind of messy public protests that had brought down similar regimes. From the start the junta planned to keep any rebellion quiet lest a public incident show that they had anything other than absolute control over the country.
This concept of “total surveillance” as it was called proved its worth when the Colonels faced the first challenge to their power a mere six months into their reign. The junta's Deputy for Agriculture, a foreign civilian hired to advise the regime on restoring its long-decrepit farming sector, had suggested that the two hundred thousand or so European farmers who had left the country since independence be encouraged to return. Those whose land had been confiscated and subsequently nationalized by the junta were promised it back. Naturally, this caused resentment among the majority native population who feared the return of colonialism and minority rule. In the south of the country protests were planned to coincide with the arrival of the first batch of Europeans farmers.
The junta's Central Intelligence Organization, a refinement of the previous regime's entity of the same name, quickly picked up word of the planned protest and infiltrated the organization planning the disturbances. The ringleaders, mostly members of the former opposition party, were rounded up before word of the protest could be passed to the wider community. Much to their surprise, the dissidents were not treated harshly. They were informed by the junta's security services that they were under constant surveillance, that nothing they could do could stop the arrival of the Europeans and that further dissent would not be tolerated. The men were then returned to their homes and two weeks later the first European farmers returned to work their land. There were no protests.
After one year of the junta's new economic policies the fortunes of the Republic had taken a drastic turn for the better. A new currency had been introduced which maintained an admirably stable rate of inflation, comparable to that of most developed countries. Public infrastructure and services, which had fallen to abysmal levels of disrepair and dysfunction under the previous regime, saw drastic improvement. Special attention was paid to the growing rate of HIV/AIDS infection in the country, and an aggressive program of antiretroviral distribution and education was begun across the country. This was done with the support of clergy and civic organizations, which, having been at odds with the previous government, were glad to receive the full support of the junta. Other diseases, such as malaria and cholera were combatted with equal vigor. International aid organizations, long wary of operating under military regimes, were relieved when they were told to “just build it” without being asked for bribes or kickbacks of any kind. To the junta, corruption was another disease and was rooted out as ruthlessly as any virus.
To be continued...