Sunday, November 10, 2013

Black, White, and Red (and Yellow) All Over: Commie Nun Vows Revolution for Independent Catalonia


Separatist movements in the new Europe often have left and right wings to them.  Nowhere is this truer than in Spain, whose unusual political landscape of ideologically and regionally diverse splinter groups can be seen as part of the continuing aftermath of the Spanish Civil War, including a Fascist dictatorship which, almost uniquely in western Europe, yielded to pluralism only a generation ago.


It is true especially of Catalonia, whose widely popular independence movement (which this blog called one of “10 Separatist Movements to Watch in 2013”) is hurtling toward a referendum next year on separation from Spain.  (See recent articles on the movement here and here.)  There is the region’s ruling Convergence and Union (Convergència i Unió, or CiU), which, to the discomfort of some, includes many political conservatives in its broad pro-independence coalition.  Then there is the Republican Left of Catalonia (Esquerra Republicana de Catalunya, or ERC), which takes a more radical-socialist approach.  ERC disdains any attachment to mainstream Spanish politics—promoting unification with the small North Catalonia region over the border in southeastern France in an independent “Greater Catalonia” and (as reported on not too long ago in this blog) bucking the Spanish jingoistic consensus by defending the United Kingdom’s sovereignty in Gibraltar.  (After all, Catalans sided with Britain against Madrid in the Wars of Spanish Succession—and for a while during the Spanish Civil War, as readers of George Orwell know, Catalonia was, of all things, an independent “Anarchist” statelet.)

A Procès Constituent rally in Barcelona.
Good lord, they must be radicals.  Not a Catalan flag in sight.
But now even ERC has been outflanked on the left, by a new group called Constituent Process in Catalonia (Procès Constituent a Catalunya), a non-party movement founded in April 2013 with an agenda far more radical than any other independentist group in the region, Greens included.  One of its co-founders is Sister Teresa Forcades, a Benedictine nun who has now vowed that before or after separation Catalonia needs to undergo a revolution.  “We don’t shy away from the word revolution,” she says, adding, “We have democracy in name, but not in reality because the broad current of opinion, which is that the system must change, is not represented.”  Her co-founder, Arcadi Oliveres, a university economist in Barcelona, agrees: “Thousands of people are being evicted from their homes while thousands of homes lie empty.  This absurdity is based on the sacrosanct idea of private property.  All the property the banks have acquired should be made available as social housing.”


Sister Forcades considers CiU the party of the rich and calls instead for nationalization of banks, withdrawal from the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) (though it has yet to be agreed upon if an independent Catalonia could stay in NATO and the European Union if it wanted to), and even abolition of the military.

Sister Teresa says the CiU emperors have no clothes.
Procès Constituent has amassed over 45,000 members since it made its manifesto public earlier this year.  What remains to be seen is whether such expressions of discontent will help or hinder CiU’s larger push for independence.  Poll numbers are faltering, but is CiU’s accommodation to the Establishment and to political conservatives and nationalist xenophobes pushing those numbers down, or are they the only things keeping them up?  As in the rest of Spain, the solution on offer seems to be further fragmentation and factionalism (not that there’s anything necessarily wrong with that).

But Catalan independence is less important for Sister Forcades and her allies than the social changes they wish to see.  “A majority of people in Catalonia already want radical change,” she says, “so we are only trying articulate what already exists.  I don’t think these changes can only happen in an independent Catalonia, but I think it would be better.  However, there is a hunger for change across all of Spain and I think if it only happens in Catalonia it’s doomed to fail.”

Looking ahead to 2014 ...
[For those who are wondering, yes, this blog is tied in with a forthcoming book, a sort of encyclopedic atlas to be published by Auslander and Fox under the title Let’s Split! A Complete Guide to Separatist Movements, Independence Struggles, Breakaway Republics, Rebel Provinces, Pseudostates, Puppet States, Tribal Fiefdoms, Micronations, and Do-It-Yourself Countries, from Chiapas to Chechnya and Tibet to Texas.  Look for it some time in 2014.  I will be keeping readers posted of further publication news.]

Friday, November 8, 2013

5 of 11 Counties Vote to Secede: Whither "New Colorado" Now?


On November 5th, Colorado went to the polls.  Among other issues at stake there—all of which featured the dynamic of rural Tea Party pushback against an urbanizing, increasingly Democratic-dominated state—11 counties in the northeast and north were asked whether they wanted to secede to form a new, and solidly Republican, State of North Colorado.

Orange counties voted yes to secession; blue ones voted no.
Of the 11, five contiguous counties said yes, while the other six voted to stay in Colorado.

The five splittist counties are Cheyenne (where 62.2% voted yes), Kit Carson (54.2%), Phillips (62.2%), Washington (58.1%), and Yuma (59.6%).  They form a contiguous territory snug against the Kansas border but do not reach into the far northeastern corner of the state, where Sedgwick County voted by 57% to stay under Denver’s thumb.  Weld County, where the rebellion began earlier this year—home to the region’s largest city, Greeley, the presumed future capital—rejected secession by a margin of 56.3% to 43.6%.  The other counties that elected to stay are Elbert, Lincoln, Logan, and—the outlier, in the state’s northwest corner—Moffat County.

From this summer, this news graphic showed green states planning to vote on secession
and blue states expressing interest.
But does this mean that silkscreeners are now poised to churn out 51-star flags?  Not at all.  Any new admission to the Union must be approved by both houses of Congress.  The last state to secede from another was West Virginia, in 1863, and it was really seceding from the Confederacy back into the United States.  And the last time new stars were added, in 1959, Hawaii and Alaska were admitted more or less in tandem, so as to preserve the balance of power between the two national political parties.  A new state, after all, means two new senators, and the redrawing of congressional districts as well.  This two-at-a-time pattern is an old tradition, dating back to events such as the Missouri Compromise (Maine and Missouri, in 1820), and even to the simultaneous admission of Kentucky and Vermont in 1791—in those days the idea being to preserve the balance between slave and free states.  A new Democratic state would need to be added to balance a North Colorado in today’s divided, fiercely partisan political climate.  And no one in Congress seems remotely interested.

A proposed flag (not proposed by proponents, it need hardly be added)
The North Colorado movement began in early summer of this year (as reported at the time in this blog), with initially eight counties—Kit Carson, Logan, Morgan, Phillips, Sedgwick, Washington, and Yuma—though, by early July, Cheyenne and Lincoln had joined as well, soon followed by Elbert County.  The whole phenomenon has been a response to this politically mixed state—famous for category-defying maverick politicians like Governor Richard “Dickie” Lamm and Senator Ben Nighthorse Campbell—turning “blue” in recent years, led by the growth of the capital, Denver, and to a lesser extent the counterculture mecca Boulder.  Barack Obama was the first Democratic presidential candidate to draw a majority of Colorado voters since 1964.  It was a swing state for several election cycles, until Obama won it handily in 2008, and it is now considered a blue state.  New legislation decriminalizing marijuana and restricting gun rights and animal cruelty further incensed socially conservative voters in the rural plains east and northeast of Denver, a region sometimes known as the Northern Front Range.  This week’s election also featured a heated recall campaign growing out of resistance to gun control and other issues.  The growing Hispanicization of Colorado has also been a factor, and the North Colorado rebellion, like the broader Tea Party movement of which it is a part, can reasonably be seen as connected to demographic shifts that promise to make white Americans become this century a racial minority, in a country with no racial majority at all.  North Colorado would be by far the whitest state in the Union.  There aren’t even that many American Indians there.

These two fellers represent the demographics of the North Colorado secession movement.
But interest came too from more than a dozen other Colorado counties, covering more than half the state’s land area, and even a couple counties in neighboring Kansas to the east and Nebraska to the northeast.  Interest was expressed in southeastern Wyoming as well (all reported at the time in this blog).  In fact, the North Colorado movement is only the most serious of numerous suggestions made over the years to create some kind of new state in the eastern Colorado area where the state meets up with rural parts of Wyoming, Nebraska, Kansas, and Oklahoma.  West Kansas, Kansorado, Kansahoma, and even CoKaNe (i.e., parts of Colorado, Kansas, and Nebraska)—yes, pronounced like cocaine—are all names that have been tossed around.

A more seriously proposed North Colorado flag
The name New Colorado has also been proposed for this year’s 51-state movement, and perhaps that name is destined to replace North Colorado, since the configuration of secessionist-voting counties now appears less northeasterly oriented and more easterly oriented than originally conceived.  Nor is the movement likely to go away.  Despite the six counties that voted no, those defeats were surprisingly narrow, and this has definitely been the most well-organized and high-profile state secession movement since 1975, when Michigan’s legislature came one vote shy of approving a proposal to hive off the state’s rural, conservative Upper Peninsula as the State of Superior (or Superiorland, or Ontonagan) (which some want to include northern Wisconsin as well).  North Colorado separatism inspired conservative regions in blue or blue-trending states like California and Oregon (the State of Jefferson), Maryland (Western Maryland), and New York (West New York) to contemplate secession too.  And Tuesday’s electoral showing is likely to get heartlanders thinking harder about partition in places where it has already been suggested in the past, such as South California,” Florida, Virginia, Illinois, Washington, Nevada, and elsewhere.


As a movement, it is not going away.  In Colorado, rural conservative forces had already, even before this week’s vote, been thinking of other ways to increase their political participation, such as turning the Colorado legislature’s upper chamber into one where counties had equal representation irrespective of population.  This would in effect make Colorado into a federation of counties—something that to my knowledge has never been implemented at the state level, where upper and lower chambers differ in their structure mainly in the size of representative districts (but if any readers know of other historical examples of such proposals I would be grateful).

Birthplace of the North Colorado rebellion
And last month in northern California, where the decades-old but suddenly jump-started State of Jefferson movement has been re-energized (as reported on regularly in this blog), there is a new proposal to sidestep the requirement for federal congressional approval of new states by creating a sort of Jefferson “autonomous region” free of state laws and taxes and with its own courts, police, and social services (or, rather, lack of social services, since that seems to be what Jeffersonians prefer).  You know, that sounds like nothing so much as an Indian reservation.  Maybe, in the increasingly brown United States, white people’s reservations are the future.  North Colorado, be careful what you wish for.

Would North Colorado be better off as an autonomous Caucasian Reservation?
[Also, for those who are wondering, yes, this blog is tied in with a forthcoming book, a sort of encyclopedic atlas to be published by Auslander and Fox under the title Let’s Split! A Complete Guide to Separatist Movements, Independence Struggles, Breakaway Republics, Rebel Provinces, Pseudostates, Puppet States, Tribal Fiefdoms, Micronations, and Do-It-Yourself Countries, from Chiapas to Chechnya and Tibet to Texas.  Look for it some time in 2014.  I will be keeping readers posted of further publication news.]

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Tax Hike in Mexican Border Region Sparks Baja California Independence Movement


Up until a week or so ago, Mexico was the largest country in the world, other than Argentina, with no significant active separatist movement.  But that changed on October 30th when the Mexican legislature enacted sweeping tax reforms which have sparked an uprising in the nation’s northwesternmost point, the state of Baja California.


Until the new law, Mexico’s border regions enjoyed a sales tax five percentage points below the national sales-tax rate of 16%.  The special tax rate is designed to attract visitors from the United States (who are used to far lower sales taxes) and to dampen border residents’ incentive to pop across the border to shop in U.S. border towns like El Paso, Nogales, and San Diego.  The 11% rate applies in areas within 20 kilometers of the United States border, as well as to three resort areas in Sonora state (Puerto Peñasco, Caborca, and Cananea) and to the entire states of Baja California, Baja California Sur, and Quintana Roo.  (Quintana Roo is not a border state but feels like one during spring break, when Cancún is filled with drunken U.S. college students.)


This is part of a package which also includes an increase in corporate income tax and capital-gains taxes, which could seriously affect the lucrative maquiladoras, or light-assembly factories, that thrive in the border regions.  Tax-hike proponents say the new rate will increase revenue and close loopholes that benefit retailers and manufacturers that are doing just fine anyway.  But for many residents of Baja California, it is the last straw.  Independence rallies were held over the November 2-3 weekend in Mexicali, the Baja capital, and a new Facebook group called República de Baja California now has over 134,000 likes.


Along with Chihuahua and Nueva León, two other states in the border region, Baja is one of the three most prosperous states in Mexico.  But in a country where half the population lives in poverty, that still still means a lot of Bajans for whom any increase in the sales tax is a hardship.  However, proponents of Baja independence feel it is about more than taxes, even if maquiladora owners and chambers of commerce are the loudest complainers about the tax hike.  As one journalist in the region put it, “There’s this longstanding feeling on the Northern border—‘Look, we’re a different region.  We’re right next to California ... we have to compete day after day with the United States.  We offer hope to a lot of Mexico and we’re also an escape valve for people in poorer regions of Mexico who come here to find work and hope for the future.”


But Baja has been here before, in very different circumstances.  In the 1850s, a Tennessee-born soldier of fortune named William Walker declared what are now the states of Baja California and Baja California Sur (which make up the current proposed republic too) an independent República de Baja California and declared himself president.  This kind of off-the-cuff state formation by non-state actors was part of a messy geopolitical process going on in the U.S.–Mexico border regions called “filibustering” (no relation to the modern meaning of filibustering; no diapers or catheters or recitations of The Song of Hiawatha are involved).  19th-century filibustering meant the takeover of border areas by mercenaries, who settled Anglos (English-speaking whites) in the area, erected state structures, and then ushered the territories toward U.S. statehood.  Similar projects included the brief-lived Republic of the Rio Grande, with a capital in Laredo, and the Republic of Yucatan.  One could certainly classify the processes by which California and Texas became independent, and then parts of the U.S., as successful filibusters.


But Walker’s Republic of Baja California, with its capital in Ensenada, was not authorized, nor even approved of, by Washington, and this is partly because of its relationship to internal U.S. politics.  In the 1850s, slavery was the divisive issue that was sending the U.S. hurtling in the direction of civil war.  The loss of Kansas to the “free state” side meant that Southern slave states were desperate to preserve the balance of power between slave and free states and were eyeing tropical regions as a place to found new slave states.  An organization called the Knights of the Golden Circle—of which John Wilkes Booth and Sam Houston were reputed members—sought to establish Southern-Anglo-ruled slave territories all around the Gulf of Mexico and Caribbean, extending to Yucatan, Cuba, and even as far as the Guyanas (the Caribbean rim being the “Golden Circle”).  Walker’s agenda was similar, and after declaring Baja independent he briefly tried to convince Louisiana, a slave state where he had wealthy sponsors, to annex the Baja peninsula.

William Walker’s travels
After the Baja republic failed, Walker tried again with a Republic of Sonora that included the Baja peninsula as well as today’s Sonora state; its capital was in La Paz, B.C.  When this failed too, he was arrested and put on trial in California (Alta California, that is, in the U.S.) on charges of inciting foreign wars, but despite the profusion of evidence a jury sympathetic to his pro-slavery views acquitted him after eight minutes’ deliberation.  Walker later tried something similar in Nicaragua a few years later, in the late 1850s, declaring himself president and reinstating slavery there.  But a joint liberation force from El Salvador, Honduras, and Guatemala deposed him and sent him fleeing into the arms of the U.S. Navy, which spirited him back to the U.S. without helping him in at all in his ambitions.

Flag of the 19th century’s brief-lived Republic of Sonora
It is hard to know who or what was ultimately responsible for Walker’s untimely death.  In New Orleans, on the eve of Civil War, he was convinced by one of his well-heeled patrons that a colony of British settlers in the Bay Islands off the coast of Honduras needed help in establishing an independent Republic of Roatán and that he was the man for the job.  In exchange, he was promised help in using Honduras as a springboard for reconquering Nicaragua.  But on the way from New Orleans to the Bay Islands a British Navy vessel intercepted him and arrested him.  He escaped and joined an anti-government rebel army in the Honduran bush, but the British snitched on him to the Honduran military, which executed him.  The whole Roatán business may have been a set-up conceived in London, part of the United Kingdom’s rivalry with the U.S.—and, soon, with the Confederacy—for lucrative plantation territories in the region.  (The British already ruled Jamaica, British Honduras, etc. and had an interest in Nicaragua in particular.)

Walker is remembered fondly in Tennessee, if nowhere else
Today, the Walker filibusters are mostly a footnote.  But relations with the economic giant to the north still dominate the struggle for identity in Mexico’s northern reaches.  Perhaps this time a Republic of Baja California will be planned from the ground up, rather than the top down, and perhaps it will make some headway.  Watch this space.

If so, I have some suggestions.  Understandably, modern Bajans do not want to use the smart-looking flag used by William Walker ...


... but instead of using the relatively drab, bureaucratic-looking flag the movement has been using so far (which unapologetically borrows Walker’s color scheme), ...


... or the far worse current Baja California state flag, which is merely its seal ...


... which brings to mind nothing so much as the Wonder Twins from the old Saturday-morning cartoon series Super Friends ...


... they should really consider adopting the flag of Baja California Sur as their national flag:


[Also, for those who are wondering, yes, this blog is tied in with a forthcoming book, a sort of encyclopedic atlas to be published by Auslander and Fox under the title Let’s Split! A Complete Guide to Separatist Movements, Independence Struggles, Breakaway Republics, Rebel Provinces, Pseudostates, Puppet States, Tribal Fiefdoms, Micronations, and Do-It-Yourself Countries, from Chiapas to Chechnya and Tibet to Texas.  Look for it some time in 2014.  I will be keeping readers posted of further publication news.]

Monday, November 4, 2013

Abyei Votes Overwhelmingly to Leave Sudan, Join South Sudan, but Khartoum Says Forget It

A referendum rally in Abyei, highlighting the Dinka people’s elaborate bovine clan emblems
This has been a season for referenda.  Readers maybe disappointed to learn that the tiny resort community of Lamb Island, near Brisbane, Queensland, recently voted down a proposal (reported on last month in this blog) to secede from Australia as the Republic of Nguduroodistan.  The final tally was 49 to 34, with most of the islet’s 426 residents not bothering to vote.  Meanwhile, disgruntled rural Republicans in the northeastern corner of the increasingly urban and Democratic state of Colorado are gearing up for ballot measures on November 5th on whether to create a State of North Colorado (or New Colorado).  (Read earlier reports from this blog on the North Colorado movement here, here, and here.) We will be bringing you analysis of that situation after the votes are in.

Disputed areas are in brown, including Abyei
Most dramatically, however, residents in the disputed Abyei District voted overwhelmingly on October 31st to leave the Republic of Sudan and join the fledgling Republic of South Sudan.  With 65,000 registered voters, the results were, according to Deng Alor, chairman of the Abyei Referendum High Committee, “99.9%” in favor of switching sides.  Never mind that it was a non-binding referendum; neither the (north) Sudanese nor the South Sudanese government approved it.  And never mind that red flag of a number, 99.9%.  (Why is it always 99.9%?  Just once, I’d like to see an election in some half-democratized corner of the world where the winning votes are a modest 99.85%—you know, just for verisimilitude’s sake.)  Most crucially, the question is 99.9% (or whatever it was) of whom?

Deng Alor
Abyei became one of the flashpoints of conflict when South Sudan prepared to secede from Sudan, under international auspices, in 2011.  The south had been waging war to secede from the north since the 1950s, when the Republic of Sudan was granted independence by the United Kingdom.  Northerners are mostly Arab and Muslim, and with an increasingly harsh, Islamist regime; southerners meanwhile, are mostly not Arabs, tend to follow local religions or Christianity, and are in sub-Saharan African, or “black,” in their ethnic appearance.  South Sudan was ushered along toward a binding referendum under the auspices of the United Nations and under the guidance of the George W. Bush and later Barack Obama administrations in the United States.  Geopolitically, this was a way for the West to contain the Sudanese regime in Khartoum (the northern capital) by chopping back its territory, in particular emasculating it of its oil-rich south.  The idea was that landlocked South Sudan would have the oil wealth but would be dependent on Sudanese pipelines and harbors to bring it to market, forcing at least a kind of uneasy cooperation.

South Sudanese flying their new flag on independence day, 2011
But the small, rectangular-shaped, oil-rich region district of Abyei was the scene of ethnic cleansing by northern forces in the months leading up to the planned independence referendum.  The state in which Abyei sits, South Kordofan, and another state, Blue Nile, were two regions which were mostly Southern in their cultural affinities and political sympathies but which were on the northern side of the proposed line.  These include the much-oppressed (non-Arab) Nubian ethnic group, in the mountains of Blue Nile.  A proviso in the negotiation of the referendum was that those two states would eventually vote separately on which of the two Sudans they preferred to be part of; naturally, those referenda never came.


There has been fighting all along the disputed border, before and after independence—not so much in the past few months—but Abyei has always been a focus of the conflict, partly because Khartoum early on attempted to remove “Southerners” from the district as a kind of pilot project, to see how much ethnic cleansing they could get away with in their attempt to keep South Kordofan and Blue Nile in the north.  Some even suggested making the little scrap of land an independent United Republic of Abyei, belonging to neither Sudan.  (This would have been one of many examples in history of a border people becoming elevated to the level of a state or a nationality by virtue of being in territorial dispute.  Kosovo, Transylvania’s Magyars, Transnistria, Nagorno-Karabakh, the Madheshi Hindus of Nepal, and the Pattani Muslims of southern Thailand are only some among many examples.)


The two ethnic groupings that are a presence in Abyei are (1) communities belonging to the Ngok, one of many subdivisions of the Dinka nationality—a traditionally pastoralist society, transhumant but increasingly settled, of the kind that make up a large part of the population of South Sudan—and the Misseriya Arabs, cattle herders who are more nomadic and actually only reside in Abyei for part of their annual seasonal round.  The million or so Misseriya make up a large part of the population of South Kordofan, southern Darfur, and central Chad.  In fact, last week’s referendum was scheduled to occur just before large numbers of Misseriya return to their Abyei grazing lands and thus swell the local population to much greater than the number on the referendum’s voting rolls.  Ironically, South Africa’s often controversial former president, Thabo Mbeki, who was a member of an African Union panel weighing in on the larger conflict, suggested last year that there be a referendum on Abyei in which only Dinka could vote—ironically, given the color-blind spirit of inclusiveness that ushered his own homeland to democracy two decades ago with minimal bloodshed and disunity.  Mbeki’s suggestion was shouted down, but what he proposed was essentially what the Dinka have just carried out.


It is true that Khartoum is cruelly stonewalling the opportunity for the people of South Kordofan and Blue Nile to vote to join the South, as they would most probably do, but it is also true that the local Dinka have engineered a shamefully rigged electoral process.  One can only conceive that the Dinka were seeking a provocation that would reignite the war.


But cooler heads are prevailing in Khartoum and Juba, the northern and southern capitals.  The South Sudanese government has distanced itself from the vote and has banned advertisements connected with it from the media.  Sudan, for its part, is taking a firm stand.  Nafie Ali Nafie, a high-ranking presidential advisor, said that the results were illegitimate and that if the vote were held after the seasonal return of the Misseriya, the results would have been the opposite.

South Sudan’s president, Salva Kiir, with Hillary Rodham Clinton
As in many similar cases around the world, however (think: Bosnia, Palestine, Nagorno-Karabakh, Tibet), violence and ethnic cleansing and aggressive settlement have changed the facts on the ground, so that it becomes contentious and difficult to decide who should vote on the status of a territory—the people living there now (often as the result of importation for this purpose), or something more closely approximating the pre-conflict population dynamics.

The two Sudans are far from deciding the fate of Abyei and of the rest of the disputed areas.  For the time being, though, both national leaderships seem determined not to let Abyei drag them both into war once again.

[Also, for those who are wondering, yes, this blog is tied in with a forthcoming book, a sort of encyclopedic atlas to be published by Auslander and Fox under the title Let’s Split! A Complete Guide to Separatist Movements, Independence Struggles, Breakaway Republics, Rebel Provinces, Pseudostates, Puppet States, Tribal Fiefdoms, Micronations, and Do-It-Yourself Countries, from Chiapas to Chechnya and Tibet to Texas.  Look for it some time in 2014.  I will be keeping readers posted of further publication news.]

Friday, November 1, 2013

Silicon Valley Technocrats Plan to Flee U.S. for Libertarian Floating Cities


Already, Republican and Tea Party malcontents in liberal California are seeking to split away with candidates for statehood like “South California” and “the State of Jefferson” (as reported on extensively in this blog).  But the newest cries for independence in the Golden State are coming from Silicon Valley élites, and they want out of the United States altogether.  Or something.  Sort of.


Earlier this month, a tech entrepeneur named Balaji Srinivasan, co-founder of a San Francisco genetics start-up called Counsyl, delivered an address titled “Silicon Valley’s Ultimate Exit” to a crowd at a seminar run by the venture-capital firm Y Combinator.  The “ultimate exit” in question is not assisted suicide but instead, as he put it, a “need to build [an] opt-in society, outside the U.S., run by technology.”  He declared, “We need to run the experiment, to show what a society run by Silicon Valley looks like without affecting anyone who wants to live under the Paper Belt” (i.e., us poor schmucks who are so two-weeks-ago that we use Stone Age technologies like paper and telephone lines and money that isn’t Bitcoin and computers that sit on desks instead of being implanted in our corneas).

A slide from Srinivasan’s talk “Silicon Valley’s Ultimate Exit”
But Srinivasan’s “experiment” supposedly won’t involve rebel armies, impromptu border checkpoints, coups d’état, or other tools familiar to readers of this blog.  Though he left it deliberately vague, his futurist fever dream, which has become the buzz of the industry this week, is more likely to involve any number of utopian visions that have been tossed about in the break rooms of Silicon Valley firms.  (Okay, I guess “break room” is a pathetically outdated “Paper Belt” idea: I suppose techies spend their work breaks bouncing around in ball-pits or locked in sensory-deprivation tanks or whatever.)

Elon Musk
The C.E.O. of Google, Larry Page, said earlier this year that he wants to “set aside a part of the world” where technology can be innovated without government regulation.  The founder of SpaceX and Tesla Motors, Elon Musk, has plans for an extrajurisdictional Martian colony, in visions unmistakably inspired by the libertarian science-fiction author Robert A. Heinlein.

Heinlein wrote fantasies about intergalactic homesteading
which some techies now take seriously.
Likewise, something called “seasteading,” analogous to homesteading, is becoming popular, thanks partly to one Patri Friedman, who looks, to my mind, suspiciously like one of the moai of Easter Island ...


..., but who is also a grandson of the late 20th century’s most revered free-market guru, the dwarflike Nobel-Prize-winning economist Milton Friedman ...


Friedman the younger heads a high-profile, increasingly popular organization called the Seasteading Institute.  Seasteading is an idea which dates to the founding of the Principality of Sealand, in the late 1960s, on a disused sea-fortress turned pirate-radio station just outside the United Kingdom’s territorial waters.  Sealand is still the most famous and successful “micronation” in the world, and (as has been reported on in this blog) has attracted the attention of hackers and Wikileakers interested in stationing their illicit computer servers there.

The Principality of Sealand (actual size)

More recently in micronational history, in 1972, during a renaissance of Ayn Rand–style libertarianism in the U.S., a Lithuanian-American real-estate mogul named Michael Oliver barged tons of sand from Australia to a South Pacific coral reef too low-lying to qualify under international law as territory.  There, he built up a land-mass which he christened the Republic of Minerva, luring settlers and investors for a free-market utopia.  But it was quickly snuffed out by troops from the Kingdom of Tonga.

Backed by gold, naturally
Then, as the British–French co-ruled colony of the New Hebrides moved toward independence in the late 1970s, Oliver tried to piggy-back his utopian dreams on a “cargo cult”–based separatist movement in the north of the archipelago.  These plans for a libertarian Republic of Vemwrana did not take the native people’s culture or aspirations into consideration much at all.  Equally short-sighted was an idea to settle thousands of boat people from Vietnam on the small island group.  (Didn’t he reckon they’d had enough of American-style “liberation” from socialism?)  “Vemerana” collapsed, and its territory is now a part of the independent Republic of Vanuatu.  Oliver also tried something similar in the Bahamas also on the eve of its independence, crawling into bed, unfortunately, with paranoid white settlers fearful of Black socialism.

Flag of the short-lived Republic of Vemerana
Not long after, in 1983, American free-marketers developed a plan for seasteading on a similarly unclaimed seamount called the Cortes Bank, south of California’s Channel Islands, near Mexico’s marine boundary.  They planned to call it Taluga.

In the modern era, there have been plans by the New York University free-market economist Paul Romer—a former student of Friedman’s at the University of Chicago—to build a Singapore-style free-market city-state in, or I suppose on top of, the sleepy fishing village of Trujillo, Honduras, on the Caribbean.  There, Romer says, entrepreneurs can build capital and maximize value for their shareholders by avoiding unreasonable regulations.  See how deftly he avoids the word “sweatshop”?  Maybe that specter is why the idea has gotten a cool reception in Honduras, or maybe it is the choice of locale.  Trujillo, almost certainly not coincidentally, is the final resting place of William Walker, a 19th-century pro-slavery mercenary who tried to annex Baja California, and later Nicaragua, to the U.S.  For Central Americans, he is a despised emblem of norteamericano economic imperialism.

An auto tycoon’s vision of an autonomous Commonwealth of Belle Isle in Detroit
Not too long ago, in Detroit, the former C.E.O. of Chrysler, Larry Sperlich, tried to stoke interest in turning a 982-acre island in the Detroit River, into a Singapore-style free-market city-state to be called the Commonwealth of Belle Isle.  And right-wing survivalist types are building something in the Idaho mountains called the Citadel, which they envision as a separate, heavily-armed community of “patriots” outside the control of Barack Hussein Obama’s jackbooted thugs.  It is more or less directly modeled on “Galt’s Gulch,” the remote Rocky Mountains redoubt of the capitalists in Ayn Rand’s 1957 novel Atlas Shrugged who tuned in Adam Smith, turned on to Ludwig von Mises, and dropped out of society as it collapsed in socialist inefficiency.

So far, Idaho’s “Citadel Community” is just a website
Of all of these dreams, the one with the most money behind it so far is the pilot seasteading project proposed by PayPal’s founder, Peter Thiel, called Blueseed.  It is to be an anchored or floating non-territorial structure—a vast one—lying just outside U.S. waters west of the San Francisco Bay area.  It will be home to tech firms which can take advantage of U.S. citizens commuting from the mainland via helicopter or speedboat and foreigners who can live on Blueseed and work for the firm without getting visas.
An artist’s vision of Blueseed
Blueseed is a fantastic idea, except for its unworkability.  The international law of the sea says that every vessel on the high seas needs to be flagged by a recognized nation, and its laws will then apply there as though it were real territory.  The same is true of anchored structures on the high seas, like oil rigs.  They are not no-man’s-lands.  Sealand is only allowed to exist because not much happens there.  If it started housing companies earning millions, to say nothing of WikiLeaks, you can bet that the U.K. government would sweep in and shut it down if it didn’t agree to be taxed.  (Since its founding, Sealand has found itself suddenly within a legally expanded U.K. marine boundary.)


With this in mind, Blueseed proponents concede that they may have to relent and fly a “flag of convenience” such as that of the Bahamas, Bermuda, Panama, or the Marshall Islands, as many vessels do when they skirt the edges of national law at times.  The Republic of the Marshall Islands has, in fact, been mentioned specifically and repeatedly by Blueseed proponents.  But the Marshalls are a former U.S. colony and now independent state in “free association” with the U.S., so Marshallese-flagged entities on the high seas would not necessarily escape all scrutiny.  Remember the scandal a few years back when Congress investigated conditions in sweatshops in the nearby Northern Marianas Islands?  I’m sorry, did I say “sweatshop” again?  I meant to say “entrepreneurial enterprise operating free of government regulation.”

Ain’t no OSHA in Oceania ...
and that’s what libertarians like about it.
And even if Blueseed did somehow prevail, without sovereign states shutting it down in order to recoup possible revenue, it could set up dangerous precedents.  It wouldn’t just be pirate radio stations and unregulated, untaxed tech firms that would take advantage of a seasteading loophole.  We could also expect to see things like floating headquarters for Somali-coast pirates, floating al-Qaeda training camps, and floating child brothels.  Perhaps there are some good reasons why all human activity on Earth is under the aegis of some sovereign state or other.

Who knows?  All sorts of industries could thrive in floating cities,
free of oppressive government regulation.
Suffice to say: it’ll never happen.  But don’t say that around Srinivasan and the other visionaries of Silicon Valley.  They’re so excited building their Lego cities of the future.  I just don’t have the heart to tell them.



[You can read more about Blueseed, Belle Isle, Vemerana, and other micronation, independence, and new-nation movements, both famous and obscure, in my new book, a sort of encyclopedic atlas just published by Litwin Books under the title Let’s Split! A Complete Guide to Separatist Movements and Aspirant Nations, from Abkhazia to Zanzibar.  The book, which contains 46 maps and 554 flags (or, more accurately, 554 flag images), is available for order now on Amazon.  Meanwhile, please “like” the book (even if you haven’t read it yet) on Facebook and see this interview for more information on the book.]


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