Simon Sellars: Sleepy Brain Archives

In September 2006, Lonely Planet Publications launched its inaugural guide to Micronations (or ‘Home-Made Nations’). The project was the brainchild of John Ryan, and it was written by John, George Dunford and Simon Sellars. As promised, Sleepy Brain will be peddling a Micronational bonanza over the coming weeks, including extracts from the book, interviews with John, George and Simon, and a competition to design your own micronation, with copies of the book to be won.

For now, here’s Part One of our onslaught on your cherished notions of nationhood: the introduction from the book, kindly reproduced with the permission of Lonely Planet.

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Membership in the UN is open to all peace-loving states which accept the obligations of the Charter and, in the judgement of the Organization, are willing and able to carry out these obligations. The admission of any such State to membership in the UN will be effected by a decision of the General Assembly upon the recommendation of the Security Council.

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Article 4, Chapter 2, UN Charter
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You can’t be a real country unless you have a beer and an airline – it helps if you have some kind of a football team, or some nuclear weapons, but at the very least you need a beer.

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Frank Zappa
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‘A Kingdom of No Comparison’ — a proud citizen of Elleore. Photo by Peter Porsman.

Everyone in the world shares a common bond. Our basic humanity connects everyone on this tiny planet in a fundamental way. But – being human – we prefer to focus on our differences. It’s more fun.

Of all the things that make us different from – and sometimes puts us in conflict with – the people around us, our nationality is top of the tree. But nationality is also a great connector. When you’re in a foreign place and you meet someone else from your place, an immediate and unspoken bond forms. It’s a universal truth: you are always from somewhere.

Throughout history, some people have gone to great lengths to change where they’re from. Obviously we can’t change where we’re born, but – whether through migration, naturalisation or just moving to the next town – we can change the place that we call home.

Micronations: The Lonely Planet Guide to Home-Made Nations is a journey across the world and into the minds of people who have decided to strike out against society, take control of their lives and change ‘home’. But these people aren’t satisfied with just moving to another town or country.

Their answer to the question ‘Where are you from?’ is revealing on many levels: they’re from the Principality of Sealand, the Barony of Caux, Whangamomona and North Dumpling Island. These people – kings, archdukes, serene highnesses and presidents – are the creators of their own ethnic identity. They have become their hobby, and the results – as you will discover – are hilarious, inspiring and sometimes a little bit scary. But mostly hilarious.

What do we do with the childhood fantasy of being the boss of everything? This book is about those DIY pioneers who reject traditional methods of attaining power (elections, coups, owning a tobacco company, etc), and decide to create their own nations from scratch.

THE WHAT & THE WHERE
So what is a micronation? The people in this book have decided, for various reasons, to create their own nations. Some are theoretical experiments in statehood – examples of how nations should or could be organised. Others are played mostly for laughs – enormous, time-consuming, intricate jokes, usually made at the creator’s own expense. Some of the more enduring nations are formed out of anger or discontent, frustration or desperation. Of these, there might even be a few sinister nations with unsound agendas…

This book is not concerned with the challenges faced by recognised nations that are small, such as Lichtenstein, Tuvalu or even San Marino. Sure, rising ocean levels, border disputes and ethnic identity are valid topics. But for our purposes, they’re too valid. Nor are we profiling nations with disputed – but indisputably real – claims for nation status. There’s no Palestine in this book. No Somaliland, Azawad or Kingdom of Biffeche in Africa. No European Basque state or Trans-Dniestr Republic. Dhofar in Oman, the Principality of Mustang in Nepal, and Arakan in Myanmar don’t make it either. And we’re not touching Taiwan or West Papua with a bargepole.

While these places (and maybe a hundred more like them) all have rich and fascinating histories, and are well worth a look for people interested in the real world, they are not for us here.

Overseeing the border patrol with one of Saugeais’s crack troops.
Photo by Christian Voulgaropolous.

We’re also steering wide of the many hundreds of landless, virtual nations. Found mostly on the Internet and in the febrile imaginings of youngsters, these nations create governments, encourage citizenship, make and break treaties, carp, in-fight, throw tantrums and generally behave like the real UN. Phrases like ‘virtual immanent global sovereignty’ and ‘sovereign nonterritorial nation’ are used with regularity within this group. So while travellers can’t actually visit these nations (probably just as well, given their tendency to use phrases such as these), we’ve given the best of them a brief mention near the end of the book (p128).

And, finally, we’ve decided to exclude some micronations on the grounds that they’re a bit too serious or a bit…well… dubious. Events in Waco, Texas, in 1993 involving a separatist cult called the Branch Davidian demonstrated that there can be a tragic and violent edge to secessionist movements. The lawyers suggest we don’t identify which nations are fraudulent scammers, which are nasty white supremacists and which are not quite in keeping with the tone of this book, but don’t expect to find the lunatic fringe here.

What you will find are a motley assortment of nations that claim land (even if it’s just their own back yards) and have instituted many of the trappings of statehood that we associate with bigger countries. They typically have a flag, a national anthem, currency and stamps. They might even issue passports, grant visas and write and rewrite constitutions.

The selection of micronations here is not exhaustive. Just like real nations, Micronations come and go, albeit at a faster rate. From modern micronational trailblazers such as Prince Leonard’s Hutt River Province and the infamous Sealand to recent, highly-developed examples like UK comedian Danny Wallace’s nation of Lovely, this is a survey of some of the most active, intriguing and entertaining micronations in the world.

So whether you’re a reactionary, a visionary, a prankster, an egomaniac or a gun-toting anti-government conspiracy theorist, there’s sure to be something here for you…

And, if you want, this is also a guidebook. Many of the nations included here allow and even encourage visitors. Some even make citizenship available to select applicants (sometimes for a fee). Where possible, we give practical advice on how to get there, and what you’ll find when you arrive. This book gives you all you’ll need to discover the micronational movement from your armchair or – if you’re game – jump on a plane and pay them a visit. Just don’t forget to call in advance and let them know you’re coming.

If you’re lucky, they might put the kettle on.

His Excellency, the President, Admiral of the Molossian Navy, aboard the M.S. Wombat. Photo courtesy Republic of Molossia.

THE HOW & THE WHO

The Republic of Molossia has a space programme, anti-discrimination legislation and the death penalty. Hutt River and Elleore have universities. Sealand received a diplomatic delegation from Germany. So why aren’t these self-declared nations considered ‘real’? Or are they? Why aren’t they admitted to the UN?

If they have a currency, an official language, an anthem, a flag, a claim on land, a constitution and diplomatic processes, why aren’t they invited to sign international protocols? If Vatican City (pop 900), Tuvalu (pop 11,000) and Monaco (pop 32,000) are all countries, then why isn’t Lovely, which boasts in excess of 55,000 registered citizens?

According to the 1933 Montevideo Convention on the Rights and Duties of States – a treaty emanating from the Seventh International Conference of American States – a nation needs only four things to exist:

+ permanent population;
+ defined territory;
+ government;
+ capacity to enter into relations with the other states.

The convention goes on to claim that statehood is independent of recognition by other nations. In what is known as the Declarative Theory of Statehood, this basically means that if you meet the four criteria, and say you’re a country, then you are a country, no matter whether anyone else agrees or not.

Many of the micronations found in this book cite the Montevideo Convention as legal evidence of their legitimacy. Unfortunately for them, the ‘legitimate’ nations of the world don’t care much for the Montevideo Convention. They prefer to work within the rival Constitutive Theory of Statehood. In contrast to the Declarative Theory, the Constitutive Theory posits that a nation has to be recognised by a global community to be considered legitimate.

Take Prince Leonard of the Hutt River Province (see p22). The prince announced his secession from Australia and then declared war. Australian officials ignored him, and certainly found no need to defend themselves. From his farm in the middle of nowhere, Leonard then happily checked off the four requirements to statehood:

+ Permanent population
Sure, Leonard and his family aren’t going anywhere.

+ Defined territory
The farm is theirs and has clear boundaries.

+ Government A system of government has been established.

+ Capacity to enter into relations with the other states
The prince is happy to talk to anyone interested.

Hutt River’s Regal Couple: His Royal Highness Leonard I and Her Royal Highness Princess Shirley, Dame of the Rose of Sharon. Photo courtesy Hutt River Province.

According to one interpretation of international convention, the prince wins. The Hutt River Province is a country. But no other recognised nation cares. This is the great, tragic lesson learned again and again by micronational aspirants: a nation is only recognised as a nation if other nations that have been recognised by other nations recognise it. Got it?

Yes, it’s true! It’s that random. France? Sure. Taiwan? Sort of, but not really. It’s got its own flag and land and a president and it trades with lots of countries, but don’t look for its office in the UN building. Palestine? No, not yet. East Timor? Yes, it’s in the club. Somaliland? No. Monaco? Yes. San Marino? Umm…I’ll get back to you.

They are a resilient bunch though, these micronational leaders. And rather than swallow this bitter pill of rejection, they spit it out, puff out their chests, straighten the plastic crowns on their heads and just keep proclaiming their independence.

So who are these people? What kind of person wakes up, spits out bitter pills and decides that they’re not just a business development manager in Sydney or a school kid in Montreal; they are also a significant figure in world history – the leader of a nation? What kind of person decides that their spare time would be most usefully spent writing a constitution, claiming land, seceding, making up national anthems and awarding knighthoods to their brother?

Lots of people, actually. Admittedly, with very few exceptions, these self-appointed rulers are men…or boys. Not many x-chromo-somes in the micronational leadership gang. Of course, the ‘official’, UN-approved world isn’t any different. The greatest number of women ever serving as national leader at the same time was 13, recorded in 2002 and equalled again in 2006. That’s less than 7%. For the same well-documented reasons as in the real world – fame, glory, power, control – declaring yourself leader of your own country attracts the gentlemen among us.

Each of the self-appointed leaders in this book has acted for individual reasons. Some have gripes with their government; some just want to have fun; some are trying to prove a point.

And then there are some that just have tax problems.

While there is some money to be made selling coins and passports to collectors and bored eBayers, most people running a country would be happy just keeping the books balanced. Just like the real world. And also like the real world, there are some people out there not happy with a simple balanced budget. Scams, frauds and other bad behaviour are fairly common in the world of micronationalism. Starting your own country, they figure, is a great way to make a buck.

So as you bravely enter the headspace of our collection of self-appointed rulers, remember to take care, stay alert and keep your credit card securely in your hip pocket.

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Micronations: The Lonely Planet Guide to Home-made Nations. By John Ryan, Simon Sellars and George Dunford. Lonely Planet Publications, 144pp.
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..:: LINKS
+ Believe and Be Happy: An Interview with John Ryan, George Dunford & Simon Sellars
+ Extract: The Republic of Molossia
+ BLDGBLOG’s Interview with Simon Sellars
+ Micronations at Wikipedia