In Praise of Small Nations

There are not enough small nations in the world. Small nations are fun, these days they rarely are involved with wars and wouldn't be cool to have a passport filled with visa stamps from a bunch of places that few people know about.

My fascination with small countries is personal. It started in Middle School, where we had to do the classic geography report on a nation of our choice. I choose the Grand Duchy of Fenwick. It was a very detailed and well written paper that I got an A on. But there was two problems.

First problem was the Grand Ducky of Fenwick was a fictional country from the book and movie, The Mouse That Roared. The second problem was my teacher didn't discover this until after he returned the graded papers back. To say the least my teacher was not a happy man. There was a conference with the school principal and the suggestion of expulsion was brought up. It was kind of a delicate situation because the year before I had accidently set fire to a lab .... but really it was a legitimate accident.

I had to write a letter of apology and write another paper -this time on a real country. I choose Luxemburg.

Luxemburg is really giant among micro nations about the same size as the state Rhode Island. Luxemburg is peacefully and prosperous -and by an quirk of geography they are like Arab Emirates of steel production. The average income of their citizens is 50% higher than the average income in the United States.

Europe is full of tiny nations most are like bits and scraps left over from medieval times. What we know as Modern Germany today was once the core of the Holy Roman Empire. Like the old joke goes it was neither holy, roman or an empire.  Up until the days of Bismarck it was a loose collection of small states, free cities, kingdoms, vassal states and sovereign church properties. I had a wall map of the Holy Roman Empire at the height of its most messed up and complex period fragmentation. There were over 100 distinct self governing political divisions.

The laws and ideas behind feudal ownership of land is so similar to corporate ownership of companies. The Holy Roman Empire in some ways was like a corporate conglomerate and it was Bismarck and a handful of Prussian autocrats that consolidated most of it into Germany . Like in Spain, France and England it was a political acquisition and merger.   

The modern nation state has two immediate advantages, a greater ability to wage war and the opportunity to set up a central bank. Both of these things can be argued endlessly if they are good or bad.

The little nations survived on the edges of empires. Lichtenstein is a tiny little country with another funny sounding name. It's about two thirds the size of Staten Island and very well off. As a bit trivia Lichtenstein has two things in common with Saudi Arabia. Both are ruled as monarchies and both countries are named after the ruling families.   

Most tiny nations find a specialty to help keep their economies afloat. The Vatican, which is recognized as a sovereign nation has the Catholic Church to support it. San Marino is well known among stamp collectors and Andorra between Spain and France is the regional the tax free shopping mall.

 

Not all micro nations are in Europe. There are several in the Caribbean like Grenada. The main island of 100 square miles exports mace and other spices. They also export medical students which was an important part of the 1983 invasion of Grenada. It also provided the US military with its last unambiguous victory.    

For little countries the big money maker is often banking. As the central banks of large nation can provide economic stability, the banks of smaller nations can offer a haven from taxation.    

There are nations measure in a few square miles, some in acres but Sealand is one of the only best measured in square feet. Never heard of Sealand? Sealand is on the edge of what might be recognized as a nation.  

During World War 2 Great Britain built a couple gun platforms in the English Channel to protect the coast. At that time they were in international waters past the 3 mile territorial limit.

After the war the gun platforms were abandoned. A pirate radio station broadcasted form the location until Paddy Roy Bates chased them off. It was believed Bates was going to start up his own pirate station, instead he declared himself the ruler of The Principality of Sealand. 

The legal issue is as messy as anything from the Holy Roman Empire.  Even though Sealand has the trappings of a independent country it does not have international recognition.  But there is an electronic Bank of Sealand and soon an online casino. For the savvy investor Sealand is informally up for sale for about a billion Euros.

The most chic micro nations is of course Monaco. It is less than a square mile but home to thousands of tax refugees yearning to live and spend freely.

Monaco's residents have a life expectancy of 90 years. There zero unemployment, no income tax and very low business taxes. Proof you can have a really nice place to live as long as everybody is obscenely rich.   

Once at a dinner party many years ago I meet a man from Monaco. His family lived there for generations. He was very cultured and looked great in designer clothing.

In between drinks he talked about how the Grimaldi family came to rule Monaco some seven hundred years ago. In 1297 Francesco Grimaldi, also known as IL Malizia (the malicious or cunning one)  approached the castle dressed as a ragged Fraciscan monk. That night Francesco killed the guards with a dagger, opened the gates to let in several of his men and took over the castle for himself.

I was horrified. It was not like an epic battle or a war of independence... it was more like a murderous home invasion. But the man from Monaco stood there with a champagne cocktail in his hand and in a very worldly tone of voice quipped "isn't that really the history of all nations?"

On two parting thoughts I think back to Bill, the English Socialist. Once I went with him to a political rally. They were mostly Anarchists and they a slogan that when like "no government larger than an individual, no nation smaller than the planet".  It nice to imagine a world full of independent and indigenous cultures without the restrictive boundaries and boarders.  I know fat chance that will every happen.

The other is just one of those weird events. A lovesick roommate at college decide since he can't be with the woman he loves -he will run away and join the French Foreign Legion.  At first I took it as joke but I was wrong. The French Foreign Legion is still around and still takes recruits. One of the few catches was you had to be on French territory to join.

From New Jersey the nearest French Territory was Saint Pierre  and Miquelon.  The last bit of New France left in North America just off the coast of Canada. It would be an all day and all night drive, then a ferry boat to the islands. Luckily for all involved the car broke down before we even reached the state line into New York.

Some set me this today April 26th and I thought it was something worth adding on.

THE IMAGINARY REPUBLIC OF MOLOSSIA

By Carmen Machado

I am driving to a place that doesn’t exist. I am doing this because the President of Molossia emailed me. He’d seen something I’d written about his little nation, so he invited me for a visit. “I will gladly escort you around Molossia and show you the sights; it would be an honor,” he wrote. “I hope you will favorably consider my invitation and come see our great nation! Warmest regards, His Excellency President Kevin Baugh, Republic of Molossia.”

“Is he crazy?” friends ask me, but I don’t know the answer yet.

On a Friday in September, I begin the long drive from Berkeley through the Sierra Nevadas. I skirt the north end of Lake Tahoe and hit traffic headed to Reno for the holiday weekend. In Reno, I sleep over a casino. The next morning I drive through Virginia City, Nevada, an old boomtown over a vein of silver ore where Mark Twain began his writing career, just outside a fictitious locale made famous by Bonanza. Molossia is a reasonable distance into the desert. I spot the sign:

His Excellency Kevin Baugh, President of Molossia, emerges from the house dressed like a caudillo: he wears a tricolor sash of the Molossian national flag looped through a gold epaulette. Beneath the hat, a pair of Kim Jong Il-style sunglasses cover half of his face. He welcomes me enthusiastically, pumping my hand as if I am a long-awaited diplomat. I am encouraged to pay the customs fee: my pocket change. I deposit it into a tin can affixed to the door the Customs Booth. A sign informs me that many things are not permitted in the Republic of Molossia. Among them: firearms, ammunition, explosives, catfish, spinach, missionaries and salesmen, onions, walruses, and anything from Texas with the exception of Kelly Clarkson.

I tour the "country"—there is a miniature-scale Molossian railroad, national parks, battlefields, and cemeteries. The president moves from place to place talking about Molossia’s various conflicts: the Dead Dog War, the War with Mustachistan. I participate in the Molossian Space Program by launching a stomp rocket and am awarded the title of Space Cadet, along with a certificate.

After the tour, President Baugh stamps my passport and gives me a gift of Molossian money, circles of paper glued onto poker chips. I examine one of the coins: Ten Valora, the Molossian denomination illustrated with Emperor Norton I. Who better to be on this currency than the eccentric 19th-century San Francisco citizen who declared himself “Emperor of the United States and Protector of Mexico” and was gently humored by the people of the city until his death?

When he is not the president of Molossia, Kevin Baugh is a retired sergeant first class of the US Army, working in the human-resources department of the Nevada National Guard. It would seem that declaring himself supreme ruler of a sovereign nation would cause problems for his military career, but acknowledging Molossia’s playfulness keeps it off the US government’s formal radar. When visitors come around, he appears in full regalia, blustering, kind, and deeply in character.

When he was a teenager, President Baugh—then, just Kevin—watched The Mouse That Roared. At the time, he and his friend James were living in Portland, Oregon. “We were really struck by the imagination of it,” he says. “A tiny country attacking the US, expecting to lose—but winning. We thought it’d be a cool idea.” Molossia was initially born as the Grand Republic of Vuldstein. James became king, Baugh prime minister. James lost interest in the project, and possession of the country fell to Baugh. The Grand Republic of Vuldstein traveled around with her only citizen. Only in the 90s did the country find a home in Nevada and adopt her current name.

In the last few years, much has changed in Molossia. She has acquired many new attractions: a trading post, bar and grill, president’s office. Molossia is not about money—there is little to no money to be made from the venture—and it is not about power. It is not about Emperor Norton-style delusion, though Baugh would, perhaps, allow you to think so, for a spell. With its costumes and characters and interaction with both real-world elements and fictional constructs, it seems like a LARP created for the spirit of the internet, even though it predates it.

For example, the country has been in an international conflict with East Germany since 1983, when Kevin Baugh was serving in the army. Military exercises woke him in the night, and he swore Vuldstein was at war against injustice. Years after East Germany fell, there remains, according to Baugh, a remaining piece alive—Ernst Thälmann Island, located off the coast of Cuba. The island was given as a gift to East Germany in 1972 by Fidel Castro and was never mentioned in any of the settlement treaties at the end of the Cold War. More recently, Molossia was briefly “invaded” by web-series star/comedian Doug Walker and friends, who took over and renamed the country Kickassia. Eventually, Molossia was restored to her rightful rulers.

Molossia exists. It’s equal parts play and parody, storytelling and invention. It is not imaginary like a child’s made-up playmate, it’s imaginary in that it’s born of imagination. It is not a place for separatists or cynics or conspiracy theorists. Maybe—just maybe—it’s a country for the rest of us.

I ask the President what Molossia is. I try to frame the question in a way that isn’t offensive or dismissive. I try to explain myself. Does he consider himself in character, like Stephen Colbert, constantly pushing the boundaries of caricature and reality? An artistic performance? Is this just a hobby?

“It’s an extension of myself,” he says. “It’s not a hobby, it’s—it’s like a passion.”

But why a micronation?

“It’s an expression of personal sovereignty, creativity, imagination, and political satire,” he says, finally. “It’s a nice way to look around the world. You can see what countries are doing and say, ‘I can do that.’”