The Outcast Presidents

by Sultan Kamysbayev

  Anar Babayev refuses to accept the truth. He tries to move his mouth, but before he could say anything, I slap his face with the baton again. Then I reply while piercing his bloody head, “What the fuck are you saying?! Past efforts done in the 1990s to destroy the country that you are still proud to have accomplished do not matter now! You led the country to misery, to cripples. I would throw you, son of a shithead, down the wall if I could. But I’m not allowed to do it, unfortunately.”

  “My father and I preserved the country during times that were hundred times more difficult than today. And yet, you are already failing at controlling the chaos in Dalabistan! That shows how bad of a leader you are!”

  He clearly manipulates me. He won’t outsmart me. I shout in his face, “Testify your fucking innocence before I would shoot your head off and feed it to the wolves. They are very hungry, and they would definitely want to taste a fine steak from you.”

  “What the fuck are you saying, you Chamyr piece of shit?”

  I give him another slap, “You are done, Anar, and you are done for good.”

  The door opens, and the guards enter. “Your time’s up, President Karabars.” The guards push him away to the door of his solitary cell and blindfold him with a black scarf. They drag him to the armored truck with leashes and ropes attached to him. He has no means of escaping, and even if he would somehow escape the guards, the German Shepherd dogs of the guards will tear his flesh for lunch on the guards’ command.

  I am given a front seat in the first truck carrying Anar. The nine-truck convoy carrying all prisoners are escorted by two helicopters from above and two police cars in front and in the back of the truck convoy. This feels like a déjà vu of my Inauguration Day, as people on the streets wave and cheer with joy as they witness the caravan with Dalabistan’s past oppressors driving to their final resting place. The citizens salute at this convoy and honk their cars in unison to my caravan’s electronic sirens.

  Finally, after the hour-long ride, we reach the square with even a larger sea of yellow, cyan, and red flags on top of the citizens gathering for this event than during my inauguration. The announcer at the set-up gallows roars out loud, “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome President Alisher Karabars. The executioners have arrived to carry out the death sentence.” Five minutes later, he invites me to walk to the gallows to say what is written in the decree that he holds in his hands.

  “Why me? Why do you want me to do this, not yourself?” I whisper so that the crowd wouldn’t suspect anything.

  “People want to see you finally ending the Babayevs era. You ended it formally during your inauguration. Now it’s time to de facto finish it without the possibility of Babayevs’ potential resurrection,” the announcer tells me. I’m glad that he lets me do that. My desire for vengeance will be fulfilled! If I am doomed to have blood on my hands during my presidency, I want it to be the blood of Babayevs, their accomplices, and of the corrupt only. As I proudly march to the gallows, the announcer gives me his sheet of paper with notes and his microphone.

  Finally, I appear on stage set up on the gallows, and amid the echoes of “Hooray” and “Finally,” the national anthem begins to play… again. Right after the anthem is over, I take the floor,

  “Good afternoon, Dalabistanis. Today we will carry out the sentence of these Babayev-era high-ranked criminals who greatly hindered our progress for the last thirty-four years.”

  Pause. Some people cheer, “Justice is arriving!” Others boo the arrival of trucks with death row inmates to the square and wail, “You bastards killed my son and husband! You wanted to drink our blood, so have it and die!” The guards and troops carry out the blindfolded prisoners that used to live a lavish lifestyle at the expense of the people. The condemned are shaking in terror and shout with pleas for mercy. That’s what I thought when they moaned and hummed with their mouths shut with mouth gags.

  The announcer reads the verdict once again, “The Supreme Court of the Republic of Dalabistan has sentenced Anar Babayev, Adilet Bakytbai, Fatima Bakytbai, Burak Serikbayev, Talgat Abdullin, Mahambet Makhmudov, Grigory Petrov, Mansur Karimbek, and Ali Zhangirbek to hanging by the neck till dead with confiscation of all of their property and bank accounts for charges on…”

  Now the nation roars with joy, or that’s what erupts from the square. I believe many of these people who are celebrating right now used to wish death to all of them. The guards put the ropes on the sentenced cockroaches’ necks and put the blindfolds off as they wait in agony.

  “… corruption, the genocide of the Dalabs, political persecutions, large-scale theft of government resources, countless abuses of power, illegal mass murder for purpose of intimidation and terrorization of the people, illegal and extrajudicial tortures, fostering severe social inequality and sowing discord, extrajudicial and unsubstantiated deprivation of liberty of the dissidents.”

  Uproar. The Dalabs at the square now shout massively, “Death for traitors! Death for thieves! Death for embezzlers! Remember the Munai massacre! Remember the martyrs!” I feel like a little bit more, and these blood-thirsty crowd members would launch an assault and prepare for war! I’m glad that I have a very powerful mass that woke up and is able to finally do something to change Dalabistan for the better! When I watch their violent eyes, I start to doubt myself: would these sorts of public executions spark strong feelings of hatred and enmity in the Dalabs even more than they used to be? What else could that crowd do when they are enraged? Can these violent masses drive me out as well? Or could they turn Dalabistan into another hot spot like Libya or Iraq?

  The great Kazakh poet Abai Qunanbayuli was true on that part of human nature when he wrote in the Thirty-Seventh Word of The Book of Words: “Who poisoned Socrates, burnt Joan of Arc, and crucified Jesus? Who buried our Prophet in the carcass of a camel? The masses, the multitude! The multitude is devoid of reason. Seek to direct onto the path of truth.” This observation of our fraternal people of Kazakhstan is as important as ever when I see this mass that gathered to witness the hangings. Even though I still feel my blood boil with hatred of corruption and of the past regime and of its deeds, I have no hate for anything or anybody else. I do not want my fellow Dalabistanis to fall into that trap of another round of hatred and discord.

  Eight other executioners in black robes have their hands on the lever, waiting to push it to drop the former politicians. There is grave silence in the square as the people wait for the first to slowly climb to the gallows, hang, and die from suffocation. I put the last noose on Anar’s neck, and as I do, people dressed in our country’s flag colors of cyan and yellow yell, “Justice after all! Remember the martyrs of the Babayev regime!”

  As this chant continues and echoes among some of my supporters and Babayevs’ haters, I remember Elena’s younger sister Zuhra. An image during the Revolution appears to me. She begs me to “tell everything to Elena who is in France, and to avenge Babayev one day” as she lies on the asphalt, her blood dripping from her legs and chest, and gasps out her life in my arms.

  That day has finally come.

  Now I realized the reason why I must punish the masterminds behind such atrocities and violence against unarmed civilians. They need to have a taste of their own medicine. As the people said during the Soviet days, “death solves all problems; no man, no problem!” Without these pests, Dalabistan would stop having problems with the Babayevs tribe. I feel that I have the personal responsibility to finish what I have started, and this will be the actual end of toppling the Babayevs.

  Three. Two. One.

  Me and eight other executioners push the levers.

  The condemned drop.

  Some have their necks broken. Others are strangled and fight for breath, in vain. The soldiers standing next to the gallows shoot in the air with their rifles to mark the occasion. People cheer, and the asphalt concrete floor starts shaking. What a joy does vengeance bring! I hope that they wouldn’t wish the same for me in the future, I real
ly do not want to mess up with my beloved Dalabistan. I don’t want to take my place in Anar’s noose. The show is over.

  I pick up Anar’s corpse, the eight other men in black drag the bodies into the same trucks they came to the Dalab Eli square. The corpses are burned in the crematorium because these undesirables have so little honor that even burying them in a nameless grave is giving them the honor that they do not deserve.

  Cinder is all that will remain of them.

  Cinder of the shameful past that shall not repeat itself. As I watch these carcasses burn in these combustion chambers, I remember a scene from my boyhood years. I used to enjoy watching grasshoppers during my childhood when I went outdoors near the city—very fragile creatures and very delicate. One by one, I caught them and put them in a bag. Then I picked one of them and tore one leg at a time. Watching how these animated Voodoo dolls struggle to move with fewer and fewer limbs gave me some sort of guilty pleasure, like watching trash TV shows or binge drinking for other people. When I got bored with a specific grasshopper, I squished him with my foot or brick from a construction site and moved on to the next grasshopper. Now, as the President, I decided to go big. It’s not just grasshoppers anymore—grasshoppers are simple children’s play right now.

  Chapter 23: Industry and Investments

  The next day after the hangings I go to the Press Conference room to declare the so-called “Advanced Economic Initiative.” Why have we not done anything about our resources? Our country possesses large amounts of hydrocarbons and the world’s largest reserves of uranium, copper, and cannabis. However, they did not bring any good to our people but only enriched the few dishonest oligarchs! It’s time to use power to make economic changes. The journalists and reporters quiet down as I enter and await my address.

  “Dear Friends and Compatriots. Our country highly values its people and their welfare. For too many years, they were neglected by the government who stole their profits. The corrupt have crippled our economy by investing everything into the hydrocarbon industry and massive embezzlement from large-scale projects. To build a future Dalabistan, we need to expand our industry with a broader vision and achieve new glories together. The world is going through fast economic integration, and global cooperation is booming. Our region has opportunities that we need to seize. To forge closer economic ties, deepen cooperation, and expand development in Dalabistan and Central Asia, I declare an innovative approach called The Advanced Economic Initiative.

  “First, we need to build infrastructure that would yield higher-value and higher-quality goods from the raw materials industry. We are going to achieve this by building oil refinery factories, nuclear power plants, and uranium enrichment facilities. We will do this because we have one of the world’s largest oil and uranium reserves, and it’s a shame that we still have to depend on other countries for nuclear energy, petroleum products, and other items that we have to import.

  “In addition to that, in the southern part of Dalabistan, we share the Chuy Valley with Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan. This region is one of the largest reserves of cannabis that we tried to destroy. As more and more countries are legalizing cannabis for medical and industrial purposes, it is going to be ridiculous if we are not going to utilize this territory for our good. Therefore, as part of this Initiative, I announce that Dalabistan would decriminalize cannabis possession, and we would no longer destroy cannabis fields in Chuy Valley. Instead, this region would be converted into a special business zone for Dalabistanis to grow cannabis for the purpose of manufacturing medical products, paper, clothes, hempcrete, bioplastics, and biofuels for domestic and international consumption. With these resources, we are going to generate more revenues for our people by selling more valuable products at home and abroad while generating energy to power up our country.

  “Second, we need to make our country an international logistical and business center. Because of this, we must improve our infrastructure and standards to the developed world’s guidelines. We will accomplish this by spending the money received today from the raw-materials industry to build better roads, railroads, airports, and transport facilities for trade. Our country will use petrodollars not for bribes but for raising healthcare, education, service industries, technological parks, and heavy machinery. Also, we also need to attract a skilled labor force. To do so, we will invite foreign experts as well as the skilled Dalabistanis currently abroad. Share your experiences with our youth! We pledge to be your faithful learners. Come back home, comrades, and make your Homeland better. I personally promise you that you will be given excellent conditions for you to help Dalabistan. Since our country was historically at the crossroads of different cultures and civilizations, we have to use our potential as a transit hub. This would promote peace at home, peace in the world, and prosperity for our citizens.

  “Dear Dalabistanis, let us join hands to carry on the legacy of the Revolution and build a bright Dalabistan of the future together. Thank you.”

  The journalists applause in standing ovations. Many of them yell with joy, “Glory to Karabars!” I am truly starting to change Dalabistan for the better, but for how long would this honeymoon stage last? I return to the Oval Room and sign this decree:

  With this Decree, I order the launch of the ‘Advanced Economic Initiative’ and the start of construction of:

  ● Five nuclear enrichment plants and reactors in Maktakala region near uranium reserves in southern Dalabistan

  ● Ten petroleum refining plants in Western Dalabistan (Left Wing of Dalabistan)

  ● Ten-lane highway Alakala-Karaorda-Volkan-Askertau-Nestikkent-Mongytorda

  ● Volga-Gobi Railway to connect Russia, Kazakhstan, China, and Mongolia with Dalabistan

  ● New international cargo air terminal in Volkan Babayev International Airport

  ● Medical Cannabis Pharmacological factory in Maktakala region near the Chuy Valley

  This Decree shall enter into force on the day of its publication.

  President of the Republic of Dalabistan A. K. Karabars

  But what will these investments plow? I hope I won’t fail like Volkan Babayev with his welfare fund.

  Chapter 24: The Task

  July 1, 2014. Abzal Kylyshbayev runs into the Oval Room with a pile of hard drives and folders. “Mr. President, I have some urgent news. My fellow workers in the intelligence service and loyal elements in the Dalabistan’s KGB have found a list of all individuals rescued from Operation Artemisia. We have obtained data about their current location and behavior.”

  I pause. Why would he bring up the past? I give him my answer, “Shit, one of these cockroaches has killed my father and my brother! What did you find about them?”

  Abzal gives me a sad look. He caresses his gray facial hair, takes a deep breath, and announces, “We found that many of them could be a potential threat for us even today. These former Al-Qaeda terrorists are planning to overthrow you and seize control in various provinces, especially Alakala, within this week.”

  I bury my face in my hands. I will not let these cockroaches destroy my country anymore, “Why are they starting to resume their activities right now? Why didn’t they do so in the past?”

  Abzal states, “Well, right now is the ideal time for them to conquer Dalabistan due to the existing power vacuum.”

  I stand up from my seat and boldly stomp my fist on the table, “I have to establish my power then and that our regime is here to stay with our new norms. I order you to have your Armed Forces, police, KGB, and the Hovlyk Asker to arrest all of these cockroaches and bring them to the capital’s jails by tomorrow so that we can obliterate the remaining jihadist larvae out of existence.”

  “I think that it is feasible to do with our obtained information.” Then Abzal takes a look at me and asks, “But why would you do that right now without a proper trial before the people?”

  I look into his eyes and say, “We have to capture people without trial. We may have to execute these extremist
s whether they are Babayev slaves, whether they are terrorists or religious fundamentalists. If we don’t do that, Dalabistan would be in ruins. We have to do the very same process against 1992’s Valuables’ Apportionment perpetrators and usurpers for their atrocities.”

  He gives me a disapproving look but salutes and walks away.

  Chapter 25: The Almighty

  The next week Abzal comes to the Oval Room with Sabit, Minister of Justice Dmitriy Volkov, and a few military commanders.

  “All of the terrorists were rounded up yesterday. They are currently in Volkan city jails, waiting for their execution in a few hours. I requested the Ministry of Defense’s maintenance workers to start preparing the Dalab Eli square for the executions.”

  He shows me the videos of capturing the extremists. Some were shot at the scene. Others surrendered or were severely wounded. “Thank you, Abzal, for your quick response. I hope people will come to witness justice being served.”

  Sabit gives me a puzzled look. I had seen his doubtful glare back when Elena started to date Erzhan, but not since the Revolution. He disagrees, “Mr. President, I feel that the use of capital punishment, in this case, is too extreme. We have already executed Babayev and his servants—this is already more than enough serious criminals destroyed already.”

  I stand up and address everyone, “It was just the beginning. Before Dalabistan can truly become a civilized safe nation, we must destroy all people wanting to destroy our land. And we must use whatever means possible.”

  One military commander debates, “Supreme Commander-in-Chief, with all due respect, why we cannot simply lock these terrorists in prisons? We do not want to purge too many people before people would want to purge us. Don’t make the situation go out of your control, Mr. President.”