The Outcast Presidents

by Sultan Kamysbayev

  Erzhan gets triggered, “Why the fuck you remember that whore? That chick just hit the wall at eighteen, so I dumped her like any sane man would do! Why would you even want such a cum dumpster! Oh right, you are still obsessed over her like a shitty beta simp! At least I took her virginity away while you were bitching about your depression!”

  How dare he talk like that about her! I pity Elena for choosing such a guy instead of me! That guy deserves a slap in the face and a bloody murder, similar to the one where I struggled to chop that jihadist’s head off his shoulders. But that would be too many brutal murders for a day. Dalabistan is a civilized country that must start its recovery from the Middle Ages. And we must start it from somewhere. I take a deep breath and look at Sabit. He smiles at me while placing his hand at his gallows’ lever. He suggests, “Make peace with the past! Reality is as it is. You can only change the future, and we can create it!”

  I proudly put my hand on my lever and reply, “Let’s do this!”

  Seconds later, the announcer commands in his microphone, “Drop!”

  We push the levers, and all of the thieves plummet to their deaths. The condemned shake in unison to the winds of the capital’s main square. I have met my demands. Now I have everything that the poor humiliated Alisher from 2003 wanted. Absolute power in Dalabistan, killing Erzhan and his gang of bullies, becoming rich, and swimming in women’s desire. Except for genuine love that only Elena could give to me. Even Alessia gave me nothing but a counterfeit of it.

  With these thoughts, I leave the stage with Abzal, Sabit, Dmitriy, and other executioners escorted by the Hovlyk Asker troops, policemen, and historical warriors. We step down from the square to a massive applause. The crowd waves their flags, posters and showcase photos of their martyrs as a sign of resilience and courage. With these folks, we can do some business and go forward.

  I enter the Presidential Headquarters and head to another Rebuilding Council meeting.

  Chapter 26: The Letter

  “Good afternoon Mr. President and fellow Ministers!” greets Alexandr Kuzmenko, who was not present at the executions. He stands up from his spot at the round table and puts his palm on his chest, “First of all, congratulations on serving justice against corrupt government officials, terrorists, and murderers in uniforms.”

  We take a seat. Then I reply, “Thank you, Director of the Anti-Corruption Bureau.”

  Alexandr Kuzmenko continues his speech, “On this meeting of the Rebuilding Council, I would like to propose another plan of expanding the functionality of the electronic government.”

  Sabit asks, “What is it about this time?”

  Alexandr turns his head to face Sabit and declares, “My new proposal is to enable the people to watch their civil servants more closely. Not only tracking their banking accounts and their budget spending like we did earlier…”

  Abzal nods his head and interrupts, “Right.”

  “… but also, how every single taxpayers’ aldan is spent. As in showing how, where, and for how long we spend a specific citizen’s taxes.”

  Sabit says, “Sounds like a good idea for a vote.”

  Since I’m the Head of the Rebuilding Council, I announce, “Dear Members of the Rebuilding Council, the ratification of the proposal concerning expanding the e-government branches is on the agenda. A simple majority vote is required to approve the plan. Please vote by raising your hands.”

  All of the ministers raise their hands immediately. Easy win. I announce, “The Rebuilding Council decided to agree with the proposal of the Director of the Anti-Corruption Bureau, Alexandr Kuzmenko, concerning expanding the e-government branches is on the agenda.”

  I jot down the text of another presidential decree to formalize and carry out the decisions from this meeting. Then Almat Omarov begins to speak, “Esteemed colleagues, I would also like to increase the simplicity of conducting business in Dalabistan by greatly reducing import tariffs and eliminating unnecessary bureaucratic procedures. This will increase the potential of Dalabistan as a transit hub. Moreover, this will stimulate foreign direct investment and transfer of technology into our country to develop our state corporations and private businesses.”

  Alexandr asks, “But what if this proposal would not work out? How are we going to find money to invest?”

  Abzal chuckles, “Since we have no more Babayevs, we will raise money from auctioning the property of the Babayev family and seizing the bank accounts from the servants, parasites, terrorists, and murderers from the previous regime!”

  Sabit applauses and smiles, “What a genius proposal, I fully support it.”

  I stare at the ministers. They all seem to be on board with Almat and Abzal. I say, “I’m not sure if voting is even necessary in this case.”

  Almat nods his head, “If there are no objections, I guess it is time to approve this plan.”

  With these conclusions in mind, I print the text with the presidential decree. Then, I declare, “Dear colleagues of the Rebuilding Council. To conclude this meeting, I would like to read aloud the text of the following decision:

  With this Decision, the Rebuilding Council orders the launch of the “E-government Portal” to allow the citizens watch their civil servants closely. In order to uphold the transparency of the government, this Portal would have the following features:

  ● Bank statements of the civil servants

  ● Use of the government funds and tracking its expenditures

  ● Tracking taxpayers’ revenues

  The Rebuilding Council also orders to increase the simplicity of conducting business by decreasing import tariffs, abolishing unnecessary bureaucracy, protecting the rights of companies and factories, and allocating subsidies for foreign companies in crucial sectors of the economy to stimulate foreign direct investment and transfer of technology into the Republic of Dalabistan.

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

  President of the Republic of Dalabistan A. K. Karabars

  Minister of Defence A. N. Kylyshbayev

  Minister of Justice D. I. Volkov

  Director of the Anti-Corruption Bureau A. D. Kuzmenko

  Minister of Education and Science S. Y. Ahmetov

  Minister of Digital Development, Innovations, and Aerospace Industry A. A. Omarov

  My colleagues stand up and applaud. I take it as a sign that things are working out with my loyal comrades. I grab my wooden gavel in and say, “This Rebuilding Council meeting is now over.” Then I strike it against a sounding block to close this productive meeting. Everyone gets up and leaves.

  As I am climbing the stairs on my way to the Den Room, Abzal runs up next to me. “Alisher, I just received some urgent news.”

  I answer, “Go ahead.”

  He opens an email on his phone, “I have just received an invitation addressed to our government to meet with the heads of state at the Group of 8 summit in Brussels. They want you to address the leaders of the G8 countries, plus the European Union and Ukraine.”

  I ask, “Why did they invite me?”

  Abzal continues to report, “They stated in their invitation that they are concerned about the developments in Dalabistan regarding the death penalty and the destabilization of the status-quo but are welcoming the transition of Dalabistan to a modern transparent democracy with the rule of law. Moreover, they see Dalabistan as a country that can help to solve disputes between the West, Ukraine, and Russia due to its relatively normal diplomatic relations with all of these countries.”

  “It’s also a great opportunity to call for returning the funds from the Babayev family’s bank accounts from foreign countries. When is the summit?”

  Abzal looks at his watch, “It will take place tomorrow, on July 3.”

  As I leave for my Den Room, I tell Abzal, “Call Alexandr and Almat immediately. It’s time to pack now. We four are going to Brussels! In the meantime, Sabit is charged with my daily duties during my ab
sence.”

  Abzal salutes and leaves, “Yes, Commander-in-Chief!”

  Chapter 27: The Journey

  The next day I, Abzal, Alexandr, and Almat come to the Dalabistani Air Force One for the first time. It is a brand-new private Boeing 787-9. It is a large plane colored in white, with cyan and golden stripes encompassing the aircraft. On the tail, there is a large flag of Dalabistan with seventeen stars, sun, and eagle with its wings spread out wide.

  We climb the boarding ramp. As I am about to enter the aircraft, I look at a sticker of the Seal of Dalabistan. Next to the Seal of Dalabistan, there are large yellow letters saying “DALABISTAN RESPUBLIKASI—REPUBLIC OF DALABISTAN.” While I enter the main working cabinet, I see golden toilets in its restroom shining into my eyes. There are many lacquered and painted wooden cupboards and walls. As I take the seat in the conference cabinet’s table with my ministers, I lift my head up to see the three-dimensional copy of the Seal of Dalabistan attached to the wall, made from pure gold, silver, ruby, and topaz stones. I chuckle, “So this is where all these hundreds of millions of dollars went, on these lavish tasteless decorations!”

  Almat rolls his eyes, takes his seat, fastens his seatbelt, and says, “Well, this is the only aircraft we had that is capable of transporting you to Brussels right now. Your private jet is currently still having a C-check after these rough landings in Munai and Karaorda.”

  I look at Almat and say, “With the money, I allocated for infrastructure works for you and the Governors-General to control, please ensure those runways and roads get fixed.” Then I turn my head to the general. “Abzal, so what is the plan for this summit?”

  Abzal looks at his G8 invitation and reads, “This summit will focus on the current political crises in Ukraine and Dalabistan.” I grab my notebook to write anything important to avoid missing key information. He continues, “These are the main issues of the day that can threaten global security, according to the G8. Some insider sources allegedly claim that Russian membership in the G8 may be revoked today in retaliation for Crimean events. The world leaders will also address the world agenda concerning global trade, energy, climate change, and industrial development.”

  I interrupt, “But let’s get back to Dalabistan. I don’t think it is my number one priority to get involved in the mess of another country.”

  Abzal continues, “Right. First, you will have a large private meeting with the leaders of the G8 and the EU: the Prime Minister of Japan Asari Rei, the President of the EU Commission Diogo Luiz Vidal, the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom John Shellford, the Prime Minister of Canada Bradley McCoy, the President of the French Republic Olivier Balzac, the Chancellor of the Federal Republic of Germany Teresa Weis, the President of the United States of America Denzel Campbell, the President of Ukraine Artem Hlushko, the President of the Russian Federation Ivan Bogdanov, the Prime Minister of the Italian Republic Alfredo Cassaro, and the President of the EU Council Kevin Van Belle. There you will discuss these broad topics of the day.”

  I down a glass of water, “I’m meeting all of these powerful people!”

  Almat remarks, “What else have you expected, Alisher? That is going to be your job for at least the next four years, so today would be your diplomatic baptism by fire.”

  I chuckle, “Alright, so be it!”

  Abzal then comments, “The reason why the leaders of the G8 invited you to attend this summit is because they are very concerned with the current developments in Dalabistan regarding human rights, post-Babayev power vacuum, terrorism, and recovery of the industry.”

  I give my stance, “Well, first of all, I would offer friendship to the United States of America and the Russian Federation so that they would not be concerned with me ‘violating’ human rights. I mean their allies have done it successfully, and nobody gives a fuck about the gender inequality, torture, executions, and the freedoms of religion, privacy, press, life, speech, or sexual orientation. They have justified it as a necessary step for their countries, and I’ll do just that by framing these actions as vital steps to recover and to rebuild.”

  “I absolutely agree with that because you need to invade other top officials’ privacy in order to expose their corruption. My Anti-Corruption Bureau has done that hacker’s job for the sake of the state. You may actually say this straight into their faces,” Alexandr states.

  Five hours later, we land at the Brussels Airport, with a long day ahead. In front of us, there is a motorcade waiting for us. As I climb down the boarding ramp, several men in suits greet me and shake the hands of me and my delegation. One of these men says, “Welcome to Brussels, President Alisher Karabars!”

  I reply, “Thank you.”

  The man in suit responds, “We have no time to waste. We must go to the private meeting room for the G8 summit right now.”

  I ask, “Alright, how long is the ride?”

  “Thirty minutes, Mr. President.”

  My ministers and I get into a large black van. In front of the van, there are two flags attached to the van’s hood: the flag of Dalabistan and the flag of the EU—the host of this G8 summit. The van is escorted by a few motorcyclists from the Brussels police and other vans with some EU government apparatus.

  While looking at various protesters with burning flags of Russia, Ukraine, United States, European Union, and even my beloved Dalabistan, I start to understand the gravity of my situation. Now I am deeply entangled in this interconnected diplomatic game, and I have to sink or swim. There is nothing in-between. Should I support Russia like Volkan Babayev did in his days? Or should I stand up for Ukraine like my business friends want? Or maybe I should back up the United States of America as my beloved and dearest ally that helped me to get power? All major forces are powerful enough to capture and pillage Dalabistan if they ever desire to. We have large deposits of oil, gas, coal, uranium, and cannabis. We have an army of workers for whom a job for two dollars an hour would already be an improvement over their living standards. We have vast amounts of virgin land that still remains unexplored and unused. We no longer have two things. The first thing is the Elite Tribesman in charge of Dalabistan, running the country for his royal family and his loyal cronies rather than for its citizens. The second thing is nuclear weapons because after the Chernobyl disaster in 1986, Dalab SSR’s President Volkan Babayev voluntarily gave up the fourth-largest nuclear arsenal in the world to Russia, thus setting the precedent for the neighboring Kazakh SSR and its President Nursultan Nazarbayev to close the infamous Semipalatinsk Nuclear Test Site in August 1991. If only we had nuclear weapons to protect our sovereignty and threaten any potential invaders… Then again, nuclear missiles are a dangerous thing in the hands of an immature dictator of a country surrounded by other nuclear powers. I continue to think about my country’s advantages and disadvantages in the global political arena, but then Abzal interrupts, “Well, Mr. President, it’s your time to rise and shine.”

  I muster a smile, “Now let’s just hope I wouldn’t fuck up.”

  Abzal pats on my shoulder, “Trust me, you won’t. Now go make Dalabistan proud!” We leave the car and shake the hands of another, this time wearing a purple tie and a black suit.

  “Good afternoon, President Karabars. Please follow me to the executive waiting room before the summit begins. Everyone else in your delegation should go to the other waiting room for relevant meetings and conferences.”

  Abzal walks away and waves at me. He yells to me in Dalab, “Good luck!” In response, I raise my right fist up. He smiles.

  We proceed into a large waiting room with a couple of flags standing. These are the flags of some EU members, the United Kingdom, France, Germany, Italy, United States, Russia, Ukraine, Japan, and Dalabistan. Behind the flags, there is a large light blue cardboard with large white letters repeatedly saying, “G8: BRUSSELS 2014.”

  The man in a suit tells me, “Mr. Karabars, soon you will meet all of the leaders present for today’s summit. They are expected to arriv
e in ten minutes, so please get ready.”

  I shake his hand, “Thank you for informing me, Sir.”

  Then the man leaves, and I am stuck standing, waiting for people to arrive. Soon the man returns, this time with eleven other people in suits. The first person is a man with short hair and is wearing glasses. Then comes an old woman with a short haircut in a red dress, wearing a small pearl necklace on her neck. Along with them walk another man with a blue suit and a yellow pin. He is talking on the way with a tall man with blue eyes, a navy-blue tie, and a rose in his suit pocket. In between, slowly walks a person my height with a round, balding head, a burgundy tie, and a golden pin with the double-headed eagle. Now three more men arrive, now wearing pins with a red spot, red maple, and a green-white-red tricolor. After them, two people with short gray hair walk, chatting on the way about today’s events. In the end, comes a brown-skinned tall man with close-cut hair, a bright smile, and a rectangular pin with stars and stripes.

  Only now I realize that these men are the heads of the world governments. I shake all of their hands as they come. President Denzel Campbell tightly squeezes my palm and says, “I would like to congratulate you, Mr. Karabars, on starting your reforms.”

  I respond, “Thank you very much, I hope that they will be very successful.” He smiles and walks aside—the President of the country who helped me to break through and make my fortune.

  Next comes President Ivan Bogdanov, who gently shakes my hand. He greets me in Russian, “Good afternoon, Mr. Karabars. Welcome to the world of large politics.”

  I reply, “Thank you. I am looking forward to working with you.” I bet the leaders of the global powers are jealous about who will receive their biggest share of the Dalabistani pie from this new Great Game.

  Then come all the other leaders. The man who greeted me earlier now addresses all of us, “Dear Honorable world leaders invited for the G8 summit in Brussels, please stand for an official photo of this summit. After that you will go to the private conference room.”