This Land is My Land - Micronations
This isn’t about the Vatican, Brunei, Liechtenstein or Micronesian midget states, but rather those microscopic pimples claimed as independent by oddballs, outcasts and the outraged. You probably haven't heard of most of them and effectively they are all squatters.
Why do they do it? Some seem to see it as a manifestation of their individuality or inner anarchist, in essence the same need that drives people to join the druids at Stonehenge or become a Morris Dancer. Others yearn for the unfettered ownership of a patch of mother earth, out of the reach of intrusive governments and who, sadly, are rarely willing parties to the delusion. For some, it is cosplay, a chance to mimic the ceremonial and uniforms sported by the militaristic rulers of old European empires. As always, money can be a motive, with opportunities for tourism, tax dodging or sales of merchandise.
This is psychogeography with the emphasis on psycho! Micronations flicker in and out like fireflies, so I am sticking to those that you could theoretically visit, either now or in the recent past. My self-imposed word-count limit means that I can’t do much to help the determined explorer, but most of these places have extended themselves into the virtual domain, so I have sprinkled the references with links to where you can find out more about those that appeal to you. (Or just search the internet, there is plenty there).
I will be ignoring those whose claims to micronationhood arises solely from an online presence, or by virtue of a flag stuck on the roof of a sad caravan in a back yard. I have also passed over Westarctica, which is very impressive but too obviously a Californian campaigning charity in fancy dress. Mind you, Grand Duke Travis certainly looks the part; he is the tall bloke in the middle of the header photo. For more on that see: Link: Westarctica
If you want to at least partly sever the umbilical (in your own mind at least) and to create a micronation where you can rule mercilessly, I would suggest that you need cash, a capacity to embrace your delusions, and a well-developed sense of humour. Ideally, it should be in a place that is unclaimed by anyone else. Sadly that is usually because they are cold, arid, underwater or so politically contentious that it might impact your life expectancy, but in a few cases an opportunity can arise from an oversight or border-mapping error.
An alternative is a spot within a nation-state who might not notice or care that you have spurned their embrace. A Google search will reveal lots of those, USA and Australia in particular seem to have an epidemic of them and Europeans have a taste for colourful eccentricity.
Here is an eclectic selection of my favourites.
The Gay and Lesbian Kingdom of the Coral Sea Islands
Cato Island is a normally uninhabited six-metre pile of coral debris atop an old volcano some 400km east of Queensland. Earlier visits to the island were usually occasioned by a shipwreck.
In 2004, a group of gay activists boarded the good ship ‘Gayflower’ (!) and sailed there. (Actually, the Gayflower was a seaplane and they flew, but why spoil the story?). Their reasonable aim was to create a place where they lived as they chose, away from the eyes of a censorious state. In particular, they wanted the right to marry. In pursuit of that, they promptly and entertainingly declared war on Australia. This lasted until 2017 when that right was written into Australian law. Job done.
Link : Gay & Lesbian Kingdom of the Coral Sea Islands
Otherworld Kingdom
In stark contrast, this was a matriarchal BDSM facility based around a mansion in the Czech Republic. The objective of its Queen, Patricia, was ‘to get as many male creatures under the unlimited rule of Superior Women on as much territory as possible’. She was also the ‘Sublime Administrator of the Treasury’, which was useful since she aimed to make money out of it.
It was a resort, albeit not the type you might find in a Thomas Cook brochure and well equipped by micronational standards with a swimming pool, horse riding facilities and more obviously a nightclub. And it came with the full package of national credentials, such as a passport, flag, anthem, money, police and a court. Maybe the bondage gear was useful in the justice system? Or for use in acquiring extra territory?
Does this tickle your fancy? If so, I’m afraid that you are too late, it’s gone.
Link: Otherworld Kingdom
The Principality of the Hutt River.
Australia has an infestation of micronations, Most are run-of-the-mill, your friendly neighbourhood mini-republic. This one stands out for its longevity. It is based on a typically enormous wheat farm in the middle of the Western Australian outback, a place that is hot and in the local parlance, ‘as dry as a dead dingo’s donger’. Its founder, Prince Leonard, wanted to make a point as part of a dispute over regulations, and did so in grand style. Sadly, the Aussie courts dismissed his attempt to dodge the rule book as ‘fatuous, frivolous and vexatious’. Ouch!
Now, the Principality is still there but doesn't encourage visits, so you can no longer hear first-hand about the coups, spiritual lunacy, goats, misuse of mathematics and appalling statuary or enjoy the song conjured up by a genuine eccentric. Link : Hutt River
Republic of Molossia
The USA is similarly afflicted and there are two standout examples. Molossia comprises 15ha in Nevada, benignly ruled by Kevin Baugh, a serial enthusiast for this kind of thing. It’s another place for people who like dust and extreme weather. You can find it on Google Maps, near Amber’s Pet-Friendly Grooming, complete with photos of pretty rainbows and President Kev welcoming you to his kingdom. I wonder if Kev consciously borrowed the moniker from a tribe who lived around what is now Southern Albania before the Romans turned up?
Link : Molossia. Or if you want audio and the anthem? Anthem
The Conch Republic
On the opposite side of the USA, this started in 1982 as a mock secession from the USA of Key West in the Florida keys, in protest against US Border Patrol roadblocks which had their origin in well-founded suspicions of local naughtiness. The idea took off, not least because it was a good bit of branding for the tourist trade, and it now stretches from Monroe County, Florida, northward to 'Skeeter's Last Chance Saloon' in Florida City. That says it all! No rainfall issues here and it is famously easy to visit but harder to leave because the place lends itself to intoxicated indolence.
A bonus for visitors is the wide selection of quality merch. The fridge magnets are excellent but, this being Florida, it is hard to find a snow globe with snow.
Link: Conch Republic
Christiania
I suspect that, when they are not terrorising the marine life, many of the inhabitants of the Conch Republic have a similar taste for horticultural produce to the denizens of Christiania, situated next to cold Baltic waters around Copenhagen. It was founded as an ‘intentional community’ in 1971, in the later hippy era, occupying a deserted army base within what Wikipedia describes as the 'finest surviving 17th century defence works in the world'. Its main thoroughfare, Pusher Street, became famous for precisely the trade suggested by the name. I recall visiting it in 1974 but have mysteriously few clear memories of the experience. Fun days!
From the outset, the relationship between the commune and the authorities was fraught notwithstanding the ideals of the former and relative tolerance of the latter. It wasn’t straightforward. Biker gangs warred for control of the drugs trade and residents fought the dealers as overdose deaths mounted, bodies were found under floorboards, grenades were thrown, police shot and their commander having a bucket of shit poured over him. Like paintball with attitude!
In 2012 the community actually bought the land and were thus no longer squatters. The residents, clinging to their founding ideals, did what they could to mitigate the drug problem. I visited again in 2018. By then, the aroma was still distinctive if not as intense, the protestant work ethic joyously absent and the architecture still best described as ‘experimental’. On Pusher Street the main trade seemed to be in ‘craft’ souvenirs’ made by the desiccated remains of the old hippies. You could still catch the commune’s anthem by the local flower-power band Bifrost, who are sadly still gigging and in similar shape. The souls hadn’t gone to heaven, but they were certainly packing for the trip, although probably staying long enough for the 'Free The Freaks' festival.
No link. Their site at christiana.org is down and it's in Danish anyway. But there is plenty of info on the internet.
Kingdom of Elleore
A knowingly eccentric Danish gem, Elleore is, I think, the oldest Micronation here. You can find it on Google Maps easily enough, a four-acre, tadpole-shaped blob of scrub and stone in Roskilde Fjord. Irish monks established a monastery here 1000 years ago. Apparently, the climate reminded them of home. It’s hard to believe that was a draw, but they had come via Greenland.
In the 1800s a charitable school was founded on the islet and dedicated to a St Fintan. In looking for a name, the founders discovered that the ancient monastery was dedicated to ….St Fintan. Hence the new Elleorians styled themselves as 'immortals'. Obvious really.
Events, events. In 1907 a film was planned to be shot on the island. The Danish Minister for Justice had banned it but the the filmmakers went ahead anyway. In it, two lions killed a goat and were then shot for dramatic effect. No one seems to have cared about the goat, but the death of the lions duly triggered outrage. (The producer released it in Sweden and the publicity sparked the ‘golden age’ of Danish cinema. The poor cinematographer spent a day in jail and, shortly afterwards, the Minister got an eight-year prison sentence for fraud, attributed to his ludomania. Look it up!),
Of such stuff are legends made, in Elleore at least.
In 1944, after setting up a summer camp for children, they set about building a ‘castle’ and decided to establish a state as a satirical gesture. Every school should have one. This being a protected nature reserve, they were promptly told to knock it down. Some years later, they bought a very big tent as a ‘Town Hall’ and started an annual week long ‘Elluge’ on the islet. It became a veritable knees-up and study week for assorted eccentrics, who apparently enjoyed mimicking those lions.
I do feel for the goat, but the new Elleorian’s do seem to have advanced firm views on animal welfare. You cannot bring canned sardines onto the Island because they are deemed to be overcrowded in the can. If you commit a crime against sardines, you are required to stand for over ten minutes on their prison islet. And if you go, you might almost feel at home. The national sport is Cracket.
Link: Kingdom of Elleore
Vergis and Liberland
A complete contrast is represented by the twin micronations of Vergis and Liberland, both of which were perched on sizeable chunks of the wooded floodplain on the Croatian side of the River Danube which, at this point, is its border with Serbia.
Liberland started in 2015 with a Czech libertarian and ‘anarcho-capitalist’ Vít Jedlička. His inspiration came from the likes of Ayn Rand, Ron Paul and Nigel Farage, so a spot on a parlous floodplain seems appropriate. I would have tied all three to stakes and left it to the river to rise and do its job but, no surprise, this all got tied up in the minefield disputes between Croatia and Serbia. It looks like they are now trying to turn move Liberland into a murky financial wonderland while maintaining a claim to connection to land which (I think) is around Siga Island in Croatia. Or is it Serbia?
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| Your e-passport... |
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| ...gets you residency of this mudflat. In theory. |
Link: Liberland And if you fancy settling there... Link Settling in Liberland
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| Verdis |
The next micronation is venerable but, I suspect, is now mainly loved for its tourist revenues as well as for entertainment value. Seborga is a village on the Franco-Italian border, where the Alps meet the Med. Its claim to independence has better foundations than most. It slipped through the net of history, was neglected in the many border adjustments in this part of the world, and was unnoticed by Italy when it defined its borders at unification in 1861. (The French border is 20km distant).
This discrepancy was exploited in 1963, in a declaration of independence, culminating in the election of King Georgio 1st. I am not sure if Kings can be elected, but this was all democratically validated by the locals, with only three naysayers. You have to hope that they were despatched from the village by trebuchet.
His Tremendousness Georgio has now passed on, and the throne is occupied by Her Serene Highness Princess Nina. They do like their titles. Even the village itself is officially one of 'I Borghi più belli d'Italia'.
Link : Principality of Seborga
Finally, because you might well have heard of them, our English entrants.
Hay on Wye
Richard Booth RIP owned a bookshop in Hay on Wye. At the time, small towns were struggling in London’s shadow so he decided on drastic action. He declared independence, magicked up the trappings (regalia, currency, passports) and appointed his horse as Prime Minister, a ploy that might well have appealed to the wider British electorate. It must have helped that he lived in a castle! Tourists came and the bookshop business flourished, morphing into a book festival which last year attracted 200,000 people. Hay had a new problem! If you go, note that Kindles are absolutely banned.
Link: The King of Hay
Sealand
The first of two things that secures a place in my pantheon of micronations, is having your own football team.
During World War Two the British built a defensive emplacement on the Rough Sandbank in International Waters at the mouth of the Thames Estuary. It was left to rust in 1956 but then renamed Sealand and re-occupied as a pirate radio station in 1965 when these were in vogue. This story doesn’t tick all of my boxes, but has to be told. You can find the history on Wikipedia but, in summary, a court case settled that Sealand was outwith British jurisdiction after shots were fired at ‘boarders’. The years to come saw brushes with the Navy, an invasion by German mercenaries, kidnappings and the establishment of a separate Government in exile.
In 1987 the UK expanded its ‘territorial waters’ and Sealand now lies within its jurisdiction. That didn’t prove to be a major constraint. In the years that followed it was involved in international drug trafficking and money laundering based in Madrid and partly financed by the sale of fake passports. Now, tolerated, it still plays on its faux independence. You can read more on their website: link. Sealand. They even have a 60 min introductory video on Youtube! Link: Sealand the Video
Piel Island
The second guarantee of inclusion in the pantheon is having a pub.
Notwithstanding, this is a far more modest proposition even though it has castle as well; an island in Morecambe Bay, Cumbria. Its ‘King’ is the pub landlord, a lonely and poorly remunerated job, so they needed to throw in a few perks! Its 25 acres also offer a ruined castle and a few cottages. If you search hard, you can find The King’s coronation recorded as part of the ITV ‘Islands of Britain’ series from 2009.
The Kingdom doesn't have a website but the pub does. Piel Island
Frestonia
This is my own 'local' favourite and I remember it well, but sadly it is no more. The principle if not the practice, of London neighbourhoods going their own way, was established in the 1949 film 'Passport to Pimlico', where the objective was to dodge post war rationing. The denizens were lovingly described by Time Out as "a commune of squatters, radicals, punks, hippies and the disaffected salt of the Earth".
Frestonia had an revolutionary, activist and anarchist agenda and this was direct action politics at its most entertaining. It was established by anarchist squatters around Freston Road in what was then a dull corner of London’s Notting Hill. Born in 1977 and centred on the Apocalypse Hotel, it died in the early 1980s without any constructive response from the UN to their request for peacekeepers. RIP. But while it lived….
Are you still out there Dick?
Link : Frestonia (This is their Official National Archive!)
Sans Seriffe
Finally, I must add the most existentially challenged Micronation. The legendary Island state of Sans Serriffe (Upper Caisse and Lower Caisse) was an elaborate April Fool's Day hoax in the Guardian in 1977. They provided a multi-page travel guide and adverts from major tour operators. A satisfyingly large number of people fell for it.
FINALLY....Even virtual tourists are suckers for merch and some of the offerings here are legal. Molossia do a line in pics of President Kev. Liberland will sell you almost anything providing it's on the blockchain. The Conch Republic have a an impressive but predictable collection ranging from Tees to beer coolers. range. The Elleorians are a private bunch, which is perhaps why they only offer stamps. Christiania is an evolved retail experience and various outlets can offer hatte, huer, tasker AND punge! (No, not a clue). . Sealand offer a range of documents and stuff, including a customised Coat of Arms for a mere £230 and even an Official Title. The Seborgans range of includes a children's book 'The Dog In The Wrong Place'. In Italian, obviously. I suspect that the dog has a message for all of them.
