Colrania is an authoritarian country. It is not so brutally tyrannical that dissent is unthinkable; there exists some space for questioning the government, so long as it is done quietly. There are lots of jokes at the expense of the leadership, but you can't make them in public. The best analogy for the level of oppression is likely the Soviet Union in the 1970s. It is a large country, with a population of about 100 million and a wide variety of ecological and climatic zones.
The Damsean Dispositive - GCCS
Also known as The Machine or The Factory, the Dispositive describes the Colranian form of government. If other government forms laud themselves on their idealism, The Dispositive congratulates itself on a ceaseless pursuit of the purely pragmatic. It is a moral-neutral form of government, where there is no room for judgement or personal responsibility.
In practise, the Dispositive is a giant civil service apparatus. It consists of subdivisions and departments beyond count, all being tasked with one tiny part of the responsibilities of a functioning State. In this, it follows the writings of Hubert Damse, one of the foremost Patrionagio scholars. According to Damse, the biggest threat to society is a government which fails to keep order. During times of civil strife, civilians die and are forced to do unspeakable acts, while the government should keep its citizens safe and free in pursuit of their own morality. Paradoxically, according to Damse, in order to allow for the pursuit of moral perfection of the citizenry, the government should not subject itself to the same rules as civilians, but instead be as efficient, pragmatic, and ruthless as necessary. In his view, the government is the vessel containing society, and if society is to be liquid, the government has to be firm to contain it.
According to Damse, the idea of ‘civil strife’ is broader than mere civil war or revolution. Any unlawful or immoral act is an act of defiance against society. Any abundance of crime means the State has failed to keep order, which is an argument against its practises. Any government that allows crime to exist has failed, in the eyes of Damsean thinkers.
Two factors allow for political strife: respect for criminals (which causes ‘personal civil strife’) and coagulated power (which causes ‘political civil strife’).
1. Respect for criminals is professed by some state in the form of ‘civil rights’, which cannot be abrogated from when the subject has committed heinous acts. This is naïve, since criminals will do everything in their power to subvert these rules. It ties one hand behind your back, while you have a duty to your citizenry to use both hands. Therefore, there should not exist such a thing as criminal procedural law. A Dispositive state does not make arbitrary distinctions between civil, criminal and administrative law. They all exist with the same goal, and when the rules of the written law come to contradict that goal, they should be discarded.
2. Coagulated power means putting too large amounts of power in the hands of people further down the hierarchy. This is the greatest threat to those in charge, since most governments are destroyed by internal coups. Failed Electoral states put power in the hands of independent judges and parliamentarians, which allowed these institutions to work against the interests of the executive. In the Damsean state, no power should be allowed to coagulate in one person below the executive. There should be plenty of different departments, and these departments should have to work together in order to achieve any goal. This makes it impossible for anyone further down the chain to successfully oppose the executive.
In practice, Colrania therefore is governed by an unaccountable bureaucracy. The Bureaucrats, or Dispositives, are judge, jury and executioner, with almost unfettered power in an incredibly small sliver of state operations. Traffic cops, for example, are allowed to enter homes without warrant and search your house, but only to establish whether your double-parking was defensible. This, not so much to protect the citizens, but more to protect those above them, as no single person should be allowed to challenge the power of the executive. Whether you are allowed to appeal a decision is entirely dependent on the internal structure of a division within the central government. Some bureaus allow for written appeals, while others only allow for oral pleadings, while others do not allow appeals at all. These appeals are entirely internal, as there exists no such thing as an independent judge. How far you are allowed to appeal is also subject to internal rules. These organisations are under no obligation, however, to follow their own rules, and directors of divisions are free to discard their own rules if it is in the interest of justice and morality.
The Crown Council - GCCS
The Crown Council, or Crown Executive, forms the pinnacle of the Colranian government, fulfilling the position that Damse calls ‘the Executive’ in his works on the subject. The Crown Council, or simply ‘The Crown’, decides on the internal regulation of the Dispositive, and therefore, the laws and regulations within Colrania. These regulations can be public, but publication is not necessary for them to achieve power of law. There is a whole body of secret regulation churning in the background, on matters as diffuse as appeals, how to handle job openings and which prison to send what prisoner to. Within the workings of the government there is a myriad of difficult rules, which can if necessary be changed on a dime.
The Crown Council consists of anywhere between fifteen and fifty members, depending on internal regulations made by the Crown Council itself. Within the Council, power can shift quite rapidly, owing to how many friends within the business world one can accumulate, so one can never speak of one leader of the Council. Just within the past twenty years, power within the Crown Council has been described as ‘decision by unanimous committee’, ‘democratic’, ‘a triumvirate’, ‘a dictatorship’ or ‘an anarchy’. This system, while utterly confusing to the outsider, has created a system which can react very elastically to the ever-changing power structure of the upper echelons of the government.
At the moment, the Crown Council consists of thirty-eight members, serving under a five man Praesidium. The Praesidium makes generalised policy decisions, which the other Crown Councillors have to translate into actual guidelines for their bureaucrats. These Crown Councillors have the power to appoint people to lower positions to act in their stead, which is a system that continues down the line until you reach the actual agents in the street, and this power to appoint and sack people is what gives these Councillors most power. The Praesidium has recently been granted the sole power to nominate people for Councillorship, as well as the ability to nominate a sitting Councillor for termination. Within the Praesidium, more and more power has begun to shift towards the Council Chair, which has allowed her to gain ever-more business friends. There has even been talk of abolishing the Praesidium and giving all relevant powers to the Chair directly, although this has not yet been implemented.
Provincial governments - GCCS
Officially, the whole government is a hierarchical structure flowing down from the Crown Council up to the individual civil servants. In such a system, there should not be a place for local governance. However, in practice, local governance has actually flourished. Government agents are not subject to hierarchical structures based on geography, but rather on theme. For example, all traffic wardens fall under a hierarchy, and murder investigators operate under an entirely different hierarchy. As such, a traffic warden and a murder investigator in the same town might not share a boss. And that boss will have such a geographically diffuse group of agents to look after that they cannot possible manage them all in detail.
This system has led to the rise of unofficial local compacts between agents. While theoretically separate, Hollys will often work together if they are working in the same rough geographical area. It helps that Hollys are locally sourced, meaning many people working in the field have known each other for years. While in big cities, the official hierarchy is easier maintained because of the larger government presence, in small towns this has lead to all kinds of localised forms of government coming about. Some towns have some form of elected city council, or an unofficial mayor, or some other body that takes care of business. In principle, their power stems from the same source as much of the government’s, mainly business contacts, but localised it’s much more about face-to-face contact with people you have known your whole life.
The government tolerates this kind of behaviour, as long as it does not occur in towns that are too large, and as long as no overtly political point is made. The government, though a lumbering, unyielding hulk, but if there’s one thing it can react well to, it’s uppity peasants.
Law Enforcement and the Prison System - Cylarn, GCCS, and Norv
Responsible for public safety, common criminal investigation, and preventative policing is the Dispositive Police Directorate, often called "DisPo" instead. The Directorate supplies every major metropolitan area with a DisPo detachment and headquarters, and smaller stations can be found in rural areas. The force can be best described as a Gendarmerie. Officers typically sport a smart, intimidating uniform: starched black uniform shirt with patches on either sleeve and a shiny silver badge; a Sam Browne Belt and tie worn alongside a duty belt carrying a .357 Magnum service revolver; grey uniform pants with black lining; smartly-polished black jackboots worn with the pants tucked in, and a black garrison cap. Other uniform accessories, such as a black leather jacket, service jacket, or different headgear are obtainable. Members of the Police Tactical Unit sport black BDU-style fatigues and light blue berets, or black baseball caps/white and black police motorcycle helmets while on operations.
The DisPo is a diverse force, operating a number of different divisions under its purview. Patrol is the most visible unit, followed by the Investigative Policing Division; Direct Threat Response Division; Maritime Division; Prison Service; Aviation; and Juvenile. Officers tend to be posted in the area from which they originated, although this practice is beginning to slip. Officers are technically exempt from military service, but instead find themselves deployed as Military Police in the wars. Public opinion ranges from mixed to negative, due to negative perception of DisPo corruption.
The DisPo is supported by a poorly-understood but presumably vast secret police apparatus internal to the Dispositive itself. There is no publicly known ministry of state security. Rather, all Hollys are expected to do their part to discipline the general public, and anyone can be a Holly: their power comes from having a certain position within government, whether or not that position is public knowledge, so whether they are recognisable or not does not make a difference for a citizen’s duty to follow their orders. This has created an atmosphere of constant vigilance, where even someone asking for a cigarette can be a Holly, and not giving them one could earn you a beating or a large fine. Even within families, it is not always certain whether someone is a Holly, and what division they belong to. This means many people practice self-censorship, unless they truly trust the person they are talking to. And even then... mistakes have been made.
The diffusion of power has allowed the Dispositive to be responsible for some truly heinous acts, completely outside of the responsibility of its cogs. For example, at the start of the chain, someone might decide that, if a partisan kills a government agent, ten important people within the village it occured in should receive some kind of punishment. A second government agent might then decide, not knowing the contents of the decision of the first, that a punishment should be death. Then, a third might, unaware of the earlier decisions, report a shooting of a government agent in a village. A fourth, against ignorant, will make a list of ten important people in a village, and a fifth agent, without any power to make decisions of his own, will drag out ten people and have them shot. Nobody in this chain is personally responsible for their deaths, and the sixth agent was just following orders. It is a system built to commit horrible atrocities without making any single person guilty.
As a result, any challenge to the moral, philosophical and legal authority of the government is met with swift retribution. The penal system within Colrania is so complex that even the people who arrested and sentences individuals often don’t know where they will end up. Some people are just lost in the bureaucracy and never heard from again; others just turn up one day, changed to the bone. How many prisons there are, where they are, what conditions prevail, which one you are sent to, and why - all these questions have no publicly known answers. Arrest and enforced disappearance are one and the same. The system does not explain its own operation to anyone.
Education in Colrania - Norv
Primary and secondary education are de facto guaranteed in Colrania; de jure, consistent with Damse's opposition to "coagulated power," Colranian citizens have no positive right to education. Public schools teach basic math, limited science, and a highly distorted version of Colranian history. Principles of hierarchy, obedience, and trust in the authorities pervade pedagogy in every subject. Literature, notably, is largely absent from the curriculum, and critical-thinking training is extremely poor. Students are expected to supply their own textbooks and uniforms, which poor families often struggle to do. In high schools, sports and bands and cadet corps provide a variety of opportunities for extracurricular activity. Theater, like literature, is regarded with suspicion and is mostly absent.
In most towns and cities, schools are an important part of unofficial local government arrangements, and teachers are among the most common and visible Hollys. This has led many Colranians to regard teachers with mixed feelings: while they are the people you trust to take care of your kids, they are also the people who will inform on you if your kids mention that you have criticized the state. Teachers are the grassroots of the surveillance state.
Higher education in Colrania is understood to be earned by conscript service - though the state can and does, without giving a reason, refuse to admit an otherwise qualified veteran to university. Students are assigned to one of Colrania's several dozen universities and are told what they are to study, and they must shoulder the cost of moving across the country in order to attend the relevant school. Since a student's course of study is assigned by the state, there is no clear line between professional and undergraduate education: law, medicine, and public administration are all undergraduate fields of study. Finally, academic excellence does not necessarily count for much in Colranian education: connections matter more than merit both in determining what university one is assigned, and in determining how much a university education helps one's career after graduation.
Colrania's universities vary considerably in quality, but the oldest and most prestigious predate the Cataclysm and have been able to preserve some independence - however inconspicuous and limited - from Dispositive ideologues. For this reason, university campuses are sites of tense, unspoken negotiation and accommodation between the regime and the public. The University of Haloran is among the five or six most distinguished universities in Colrania, and has used the narrow scope of its unofficial independence to admit as many Haloran natives as possible to its halls.