STATES OF MIND
More than 100 make-believe 'micronations' exist on the Net. Now some
are looking for actual homelands. Have they seceded from reality?

B Y    A N D R E W    W E I N E R


SUMMER IS OVER, and John is 
headed back to college to begin his senior year. For
the most part, his concerns aren't that different from
those of his classmates: moving in, getting into
classes, finding a job after graduation. But as the constitu-
tional monarch of the Principality of Freedonia, John, who
prefers to be called Prince John I, also must tend to the af-
fairs of a "micronation" of nearly 300 citizens.
     Call it a minor in statecraft. In his spare time, Prince 
John consults his cabinet and works out amendments to the
Freedonian constitution. He also drafts treatises on topics
like gun control and taxation. His biggest task, though, is 
to put Freedonia on the map. Literally.
     That's because Freedonia doesn't exist, at least no in the
way that countries like Turkey or Mexico exist. It doesn't
even exist in the way that Monaco or Vatican City exist. If a
nation without territory is a strange concept to grasp, that's
because Freedonia is precisely, and only, that: a strange
concept.
     Most nations start with land and worry about principles
later. But having laid claim to a corner of cyberspace, Free-
donia -- like a handful of other micronations -- has begun
to assert its sovereignty in other, less virtual realities. To
hear Prince John tell it, nothing less than the destiny of hu-
mankind is at stake in the attempt.
nia's founders to return to essential principles that, in their view, have been largely neglected by american leaders.
     Chief among these is a thoroughgoing, nearly utopian
libertarianism. Should Freedonia ever become an actual
state, its citizens will enjoy a condition of virtually limitless
freedom. All drugs will be legal. There will be no speed
limit. Gun ownership will be unrestricted and taxes will be
"ultra-low." Underscoring these views is a simple faith that,
if left to their own devices, people will find a way to get
along. Since a prosperous private sector is sure to result,
the Freedonian government plans to offer no social services
and to spurn public-works projects entirely.
     But if John and his fellow Freedonians trust optimistical-
ly in the benevolence of human nature, they are hostile to-
ward any and all acts of government intervention. (Perhaps
this reflects the peculiar position of a nation whose 
founders were being unjustly repressed by 10 o'clock cur-
fews.) The problem with virtually every society, they be-
lieve, is that individual freedom is subject to "preventative"
laws restricting behavior that hasn't yet occurred. Prince
John derides this overreaching as "the punishment of the
whole for the acts of a few."
     Prince John's message has found a number of takers --
275 at last count. Freedonians, according to their ruler, are
a widely varied people. This is almost true. Freedonians
Most college students don't say things like
'Whether or not we see a nation of liberty on
this planet could hinge largely on my 
competence.' Then again, most college 
students aren't the Prince of Freedonia.
FREEDONIAN HISTORY begins in 1992. John, then
just entering high school in Houston, became "in-
trigued" by the possibility of declaring his parents' home
independent of the US. He discussed the idea with a few
friends, who then joined him in declaring their homes part
of the Republic of Freedonia. (He says that at the time they
were unaware that Freedonia was the name of the mythical
nation in the Marx Brothers farce Duck Soup.)
     The first Freedonian republic was actually an oligarchy,
with all authority vested in two presidents and several cabi-
net members. Although the risk of revloution was rather
low -- Freedonia had no citizens who were not also rulers
-- John gradually moved to consolidate his power. Four
years later, the second president was removed; a year after that, the country was re-established as a constitutional
monarchy under the new Prince John I.
     Why a monarchy? John gives two reasons. The first is that a life term renders him immune to the pressure of spe-
cial interests, which he holds responsible for the downfall of representative democracies. Second, and perhaps more im-
portant: he's the right prince for the job.
     Most college students don't tend to say things like
"Whether or not we see a nation of liberty on this planet
could hinge largely on my competence." Then again, most
college students aren't self-proclaimed royalty. I didn't
have the chance to meet John in person (he chose instead
to communicate by e-mail), but our correspondence left me
with the impression of someone exceptionally serious, if 
somewhat shy. He doesn't use slang or even contractions,
and he signs his correspondence "Yours in Liberty." His
chief hobby is improving his qualifications for princehood 
by studying political philopsophy and keeping up with inter-
national news.
     John's attention to theory is reflected in the Freedonian
constitution, a lengthy document larded with such baroque
legalisms as "bills of attatinder" and "letters of marque and
reprisal." Its frequent overlaps with the US Constitution re-
flect a little cribbing, perhaps, but also the desire of Freedo-
range in age from 12 to 72, and hail from nations as varied as Croatia, Pakistan, and Saudi Arabia. They work as pro-
grammers, plumbers, poets, and parapsychologists. But it is
worth noting that only six Freedonians are women.
     Because the country has not yet formed an active parlia-
ment, the responsibility for governing lies exclusively with
Prince John and his cabinet. But even for the nation's rul-
ing class, power exists more as concept than as fact. Dustin
Gawrylow tells me that when Prince John asked him to be
Freedonia's prime minister, "I had only one question: 'Can
I declare war?' [John's] answer was, 'Well, theoreticallly,
yes.'" For the majority of Freedonian citizens, however, 
there isn't a whole lot more to do than just belong.

Freedonia is not the only micronation to have declared
its sovereignty in the past five years. The most com-
prehensive Web listing of micronations contains 118
entries; only a handful predate 1995. This recent surge in
do-it-yourself statecraft is entirely due to the establishement
of the Internet, a vast and uncharted terra incognita with
boundless tolerance for far-fetched ideas.
     Unsurprisingly, then, a wide range of interests and tates
is represented in micronational political culture. Many ex-
hibit a weakness for the kinds of names found in Dungeon
& Dragons modules or bad fantasy novels: the Dominion
of Asphynxia, the Barony of Telusia, or the Glorious Em-
pire of Lafartia. Royal-sounding titles are a common fetish,
even in republics; roman numerals are also popular. Some-
times, various kinds of celebrity are conflated, as in the
case of His Grace, Grand Duke James Dean and His Ex-
cellency, Archbaron John Wayne, both of the Republic of 
Tulsa.
     Micronations also exhibit a deliriously random range of motives and symbolic references. Take, for instance, the 
Inner Realm of Patria, a "de facto Hindu Theocracy" that 
boasts the same flag as an international shipping concern
and a motto borrowed from a Stephen Stills lyric. Similarly
scattershot is the 1st Independent Stoner Homeland, an af-

Part Two --->