Looking back to the past
We can see corruption
Has destroyed us and our
Chances to prosper!
But we still long for freedom
And for justice for all
We achieved it in the past
We have done this today
I see Abzal on the ground with Sabit and five other soldiers. They take Anar Babayev and Talgat Abdullin out of the downed helicopter with dark black smoke coming out of this vessel. Blood drips from several wounds on Anar’s body, yet he is able to move his fingers. The helicopter pilot’s head bends down, with blood over his eyes shut in eternal sleep. Sabit places handcuffs on his hands while two soldiers hold Anar. The overthrown Great Khan shakes his hands and tries to run in the opposite direction. It is in vain as he is finally dragged into the black police van bound for City Jail #1. Sabit and his two soldiers repeat the same process with Talgat Abdullin.
Now Abzal shoots into the air with his heavy machine gun and roars with all of his hope and fatigue, “We won! Victory! Hooray!”
The people join Abzal in their joyous celebrations and yell in rejoice! Some pious men and women grab their prayer rugs, stand facing towards Mecca. They bow, kneel, and then wipe their faces with their hands. They repeatedly chant beautifully sounding phrases in Arabic praising Allah.
The rain finally starts to go away, and the sun rises steadily over the Dalab Eli square. The clouds are going away as well. It is the end of the gloomy dictatorship and the start of the new era. My new era.
Chapter 12: The Rebirth
The pain of losing Zholan, Zuhra, Yan, and thousands of other Dalabs in front of my eyes pierces me still. The happiness of overthrowing Babayevs’ regime would come, but I am exhausted and full of sorrow.
There is a feeling of colossal relief of everything finally ending. The remaining Hovlyk Asker troops in the Presidential Headquarters, as well as the few surviving Dalabistan’s Air Force pilots, pro-Babayev soldiers, and pro-Babayev policemen, lie on the floor with their hands on their necks. They surrender to the new regime under my control. Eventually, all of the thousands remaining Babayev’s security forces either commit suicide from witnessing such shame, surrender, are arrested and escorted by my soldiers, or take off their uniforms and join the protesters. While I watch them pass by along the corridors of our soldiers and martyred protesters’ corpses, one thought cannot get out of my head—is this the true cost of freedom and restoring justice? Were such numbers of countless deaths necessary to overthrow this entrenched tyranny? Why does it require blood to put an end to the arbitrary regime? Why? Why did I not prevent these deaths?
Even heavier on my soul, how will I even tell the dreadful news of Zuhra’s death to Elena?
My hate for Anar Babayev and his oppression was already high before today, but today’s events made it boil in my blood. It is customary in Dalabistan to violently suppress dissent, but today the suppression and massive slaughter of the dissidents was completely on an entirely new level. Even the Munai massacre of oilers wasn’t as brutal as today.
However, never before were the protests that large. Not even during the fifteenth century when the steppe-dwellers and nomads of Central Asia rebelled against the injustices of Moghulistan and the Abulkhair Khanate and fled to modern-day Alakala to establish the Dalab Khanate.
While there is sadness in the air, and many Dalabistanis mourn the death of their compatriots, their loved ones, and their comrades, there is a pleasant excitement as well. Many of our soldiers shoot fireworks into the evening sky of the capital. People fill the streets and dance to traditional Dalab music. If I didn’t know what had happened earlier at the Dalab Eli square, I probably would start to think that there is a mass wedding occurring here. But no, people are celebrating the ousting of Anar Babayev and the arrival of a new leader.
“Hey Alisher, we need to go to the Dalabistan TV headquarters really quick. We need to announce the formal victory,” Abzal tells me.
“Sure,” I reply, “but is there anybody guarding the building?”
“All of the guards either already surrendered or joined us. I saw the guards and police from Dalabistan TV flee to fight us at Dalab Eli. So I don’t think they are remaining there.”
“Then let’s go now. Are there any reports on foreign news media about the revolution?”
“Let’s go to the car and get it from there.” We get into the black Honda minivan. Abzal gets his phone and stares at Russia 24 news broadcast. The anchor announces,
“We come with breaking news from Dalabistan. Massive protests against Anar Babayev’s regime occurred in the country’s capital Volkan. Some reports tell us that they spurred after a controversial decree passed by Anar Babayev earlier this week that forced all private and foreign businesses in the country to be nationalized and ownership to transfer to Anar Babayev members of his own tribe. At this moment, Interfax news agency reports that Anar Babayev was detained along with several ministers of Dalabistan. According to preliminary data, more than five hundred people were killed, and more than two thousand were wounded. Alexei Shishkin, Press Secretary for the President of the Russian Federation, stated in his Twitter account that ‘Russia is concerned about the recent events in Dalabistan and I, on behalf of all Russians, hope that the situation will stabilize soon.’”
“I’m so glad that the Russians didn’t condemn the coup and just want us to solve everything on our own. We barely survived Dalabistan’s Army, how would we resist a potential Russian invasion!” Abzal tells me.
“What a surprise, honestly, that the Russians aren’t doing much about it. Usually, they are not so willing to give up their neighbor to American influence. Why this time they decided to relax while pro-Kremlin regime got replaced? Could this set inspiration for young Russians to storm the Kremlin? Let’s see what freedom-loving Americans are reporting.” I get my phone and look at what CNN is telling about the event.
“This is Alfred Fritzl and Jerome Haley, with breaking news. A coup has occurred in Dalabistan. Reportedly supported by multibillionaire Alisher Karabars, protesters have seized the Dalab Eli square in the capital city of Volkan, as well as taken several ministers and the Dalabistan’s overthrown President Anar Babayev as hostages. The US President Denzel Campbell stated, ‘The United States Department of State will continue to focus on the US citizens’ safety and security in Dalabistan. I support the overthrow of Anar Babayev’s regime by Alisher Karabars, and our country will continue to collaborate with Dalabistan. The tyranny has fallen, but the road ahead for Dalabistan and its people will be difficult and full of challenges to bring prosperity and democracy.’ We have our special correspondent from Alakala, Owen Wilson.
“Thank you, Alfred and Jerome. Here in Alakala, there weren’t many protests, but now it’s 7 p.m. in the city, and there are crowds on central avenues and squares. They are cheering and celebrating and launching fireworks into the night sky. Many shout in Dalab and Russian ‘Liberty after all’ and ‘Down with Babayev’. One of the reasons there were massive protests was that this week, Anar Babayev passed a repressive legislation that forced all private and foreign businesses in the country to be nationalized and ownership ought to transfer to Anar Babayev and members of his own tribe. Alisher Karabars’ business companies employ around thirty percent of the entire Dalabistani working population, many of which couldn’t find jobs before Mr. Karabars has expanded his operations into this country. As a result, many of these employees risked losing their jobs again. Now that Anar Babayev is overthrown, there is hope that democracy will triumph in Dalabistan. The local news networks are experiencing outages; however, we expect some major announcements to be made this evening. We will come back to that later.”
“That will be our entry,” tells Abzal to me. “The people love you and see you as their savior and true leader. It would be the most rational manner for them to hear the news from you.”
“Alright, I hope I wouldn’t bring more i
ssues to Dalabistan. I have already had enough trouble after all of these dark years.”
As we enter the Dalabistan TV building, we are met with confusion and celebration at the same time. Some shout, “Burn in hell, you traitors!” while others stand up, raise their arms, start to clap, and chant, “Glory to Alisher, our third president!”
I aim at the various people here with my gun and shout, “Anar Babayev is ousted—he has no authority anymore. He is in jail, and the regime is overthrown!” One blonde news anchor comes to me, and she grabs my hand, “President Alisher Karabars and General Abzal Kylyshbayev, follow me, we need to announce it live on the broadcast of ‘Today’s Evening News’ in ten minutes.”
We sit in the studio, and the anchor decides to exit. It is safe to be here. The victory is final. I guess I have to read the revolution’s manifesto while Abzal would cover me. I take a deep breath and begin.
“It is the wish and order of the Dalab people for this statement to be broadcast on all channels of the Republic of Dalabistan. The valuable citizens of the Republic of Dalabistan have systematically been subject to constitutional and legal infringements threatening the basic characteristics and vital institutions of the state. In contrast, all state institutions have undergone attempts to be redesigned based on ideological motives, rendering them unfit for purpose. Fundamental rights and freedoms, as well as the secular democratic legal structure based on the separation of powers, have been abolished by the heedless, corrupt, misguided and even treacherous president who refers to himself as ‘The Great Khan of All Dalabs’, as well as government officials.
“Our state has lost its rightful international reputation and has become a country governed by an autocracy and a monarchy based on fear and where fundamental human rights are overlooked. The wrong decisions taken by the political elite have resulted in the failure to combat growing Islamic terrorism and poverty, which has claimed the lives of countless innocent citizens who have been fighting against terrorism. The corruption and pilferage within the bureaucracy have reached severe levels, while the judicial system throughout the country has become unfit for purpose and served Anar Babayev instead of its people or justice.
“In these circumstances, the Dalab people, taking Tengri-Orda’s ideas and people’s will, has in order to secure the country’s survival, to eliminate the threats our Republic faces, to eliminate the de facto obstructions to our justice system, to stop corruption that has become a national security threat, to allow efficient operations against all forms of destructive terrorism, to bring forward the fundamental and universal human rights to all our citizens regardless of race or ethnicity or tribe and to establish the values of a secular democratic social and legal egalitarian state, to regain our nation’s lost international reputation and to establish stronger relations and cooperate for international peace, stability and prosperity, taken over the Presidential Headquarters in the capital.
“The governance of the State will be undertaken by myself, acting as the interim President, Alisher Kaisaruly Karabars. The government of Anar Babayev, which has lost all its legitimacy, has been dismissed from office. The inauguration will take place tomorrow at the Dalab Eli square. Anar Babayev has been overthrown and is detained in Volkan City Jail #1. He awaits trial for the atrocities committed today that caused thousands of Dalabs to bleed innocent blood of martyrs, as well as for the atrocities committed over the last thirty-four years of the dictatorship. All soldiers of the Dalab Armed Forces, the policemen, and the Hovlyk Asker troops must put down their weapons and declare their allegiance to the new president or face serious consequences. The Revolution is over, but the real work is about to begin!”
The regular news anchor arrives in the studio. She tells us, “Thank you for the revolution, Mr. Karabars, and General Kylyshbayev! We will return to normal broadcasting right now.” She declares, “This is Today’s Evening News, and here are the main headlines: Anar Babayev has been overthrown by democratic protesters today, the interim President of Dalabistan, Alisher Kaisaruly Karabars took power and will have his inauguration tomorrow.”
While Dalabistan TV rolls over their news intro, Abzal and I leave the room. I still cannot believe what we have done. Never in my wildest dreams, until this week, would I have ever imagined that someone not related to the Babayev family would ever rule the country.
We leave the Dalabistan TV headquarters and return into the black Honda minivan. As we drive back to my rented flat through the sea of supporters, I realize that things are never going to be the same. We entered a brave new world, and we must make a success of it. Otherwise, all of these martyrs would have died for nothing. Tomorrow I will finally become the third president of Dalabistan, the first president and ruler not from the Three Elite Tribes. Hard work has started. But for now, I go to sleep.
Part II: The Power
“Our aim is not to die. It is to carry out the revolution, to make a reality of our ideas. We must live, to get them accepted by the people.” Mustafa Kemal Atatürk
Chapter 13: The Deployment
The wind of the revolution has finally settled down. May 21 is the day that will change the history of my beloved Dalabistan. The massive steppes of Dalabs have seen the sunrise of the new era. I wake up with so much energy and passion in my veins, able to finally use my power to reverse all of the evils done by Babayevs and other corrupt tribes for the last three decades.
It’s 10 a.m. After a delicious breakfast of oatmeal and tea with milk, I put on my gray checkered suit that saw many of my achievements. I won debate tournaments and secured my important business deals in this very suit. Today I will add a new accomplishment: the Presidential Inauguration, from which I will start my long-awaited plans of transforming my formerly-miserable country.
My black armored car with an escort of ten police cars waits for me at the door of my rented flat on the outskirts. The driver in his black suit comes over to me, salutes me, and tells me, “Good morning Mr. Karabars. You have a great day today.”
I get into this black car, ready for the long ride to the Dalab Eli square.
“On a personal note, thank you very much for yesterday. You gave me so much hope and opportunities. May God bless you for your reign!”
“Thank you, Sir. I hope this is just a start for a better life.”
A few minutes later, I see the wide streets of Volkan. Surprisingly, Sabit and Abzal did not block them with police cars or Hovlyk Asker convoys! Instead, lines of people surround both sides of the road. Many of them wave with yellow and cyan flags of Dalabistan. Throngs of people throw flowers at the motorcade. The citizens’ cars passing by salute me by honking. I ask the driver, “Sir, I think we may need to slow down the car.”
“Why, Mr. President?”
“We need to welcome the people. So many people throw stuff at this car and greet us. The last thing I want to do is for this car to damage or to kill other rejoicing people.”
“Alright, then so be it.”
The people shout at my car with joy. I never heard so many happy voices trapped in a single environment before. Some men with beards raise their fists and yell, “Martyrs never die, and our homeland will never be divided!” I also hear women with short, dyed hair squeal for joy!
The driver remarked, “The revolution that ousted Anar Babayev from his throne is truly popular, and it’s not bullshit bribing American provocateurs that drove the revolution despite what the Russian TV may tell as I heard last night.”
Indeed, the revolution’s phenomenal success was driven not by me. I honestly do not think I have enough capacity to carry out such a deliberate operation. Neither the revolution succeeded thanks to corrupt oligarchs or democracy grants from the West, but by the strong will of the common people of Dalabistan that had finally woken up after more than thirty long years of hibernation.
As I drive past the large golden domes of the Central Mosque, the loud, melodic chanting comes from the tall minarets. I ask the driver, “What is this
sound from the mosque? I thought it’s too late for a call to prayer.”
The driver responds, “Mr. Karabars, this is the Salat al-Janazah prayer from the mosque.”
“Sorry, I am not a man of faith. What type of Muslim prayer is that?”
“It is the funeral prayer asking for forgiveness for the deceased, usually recited at funerals. Now it’s done probably to seek pardon for yesterday’s martyrs.”
I hear the muezzin’s songful reciting of this prayer through the loudspeakers from the mosque. Men in white crochet taqiyahs, Muslim short skullcaps that religious Dalabs wear, place their palms in prayer and exclaim, “Allahu Akbar!”
Moving along the wide streets of the capital, I look at many tall modern glass skyscrapers standing right next to modest residential houses. Many residents of these houses put up flags of Dalabistan along with the red flag of the Federation of Alash and Tengri Ordas with a golden crescent on their balconies. Proud heritage of the past.
After thirty minutes of slowly glaring at rejoicing compatriots, I finally reach the square. I exit the car and notice yesterday’s comrades-in-arms forming a large corridor from my car to the ceremony stage. Traditional Dalab music starts to play. Even greater number of people wave their flags. So many flowers are being thrown at me. I wave at them. I hear cannons exploding in a 21-gun salute in my honor.
I want to declare my points in front of the people. I honestly didn’t expect the crowd to be that large; in fact, it is the largest mass of people I’ve ever had amassed in front of me in my entire life.
The Outcast Presidents Page 12
