of their leaders’ venality: while a protected elite enjoyed the revenues from the country’s natural resources in the Arctic, most saw their standard of living drop to levels not seen since the 1930s. Nevertheless, Horrocks said: ‘… with Chinese support, Russia maintained the shrewdest manoeuvring, especially in Middle-Eastern affairs. President Maklakov took great satisfaction from establishing pockets of stability in countries such as Iran, Syria and Iraq, in the process highlighting to the world that America and its allies had lost the little credibility they retained in the region. What will ultimately happen in these countries remains to be seen.’
Horrocks wrote those words in 2042, the year in which the Caliphate came into existence and these countries, whose names are all but forgotten today, ceased to exist. The Caliphate’s first steps were to sever as many ties to the outside world as possible. For example, as the countries it subsumed disappeared from the map, the Caliphate rejected repeated invitations to join the UN and other global forums. Quickly it established its defining characteristic: isolation. Anyone was free to enter the Caliphate, but few ever found they could leave it. Elaborate digital jamming technology prevented communication for the vast majority of Caliphate subjects, rendering modern civilian mobile communications devices redundant. The Caliphate established secure, encrypted communications for its rapidly expanding network of majlis , or district overseers. For much of the following two decades, the rest of the world relied on stragglers, satellites, and the Russian and Chinese Foreign Ministries.
David Benn in The Rise of the New Persian Caliphate says of this period: ‘Although it seemed remarkable to citizens of the open societies in the West, the New Persian Caliphate was a product of two highly controlled, centralised cultures - Russia and China - which, it has to be said with worthy intentions, attempted to bring peace and stability to a region of the world that had suffered bloodshed for decades. Their only mistake was to fail to foresee that their child would grow into a bloodthirsty adolescent intent on avenging centuries-old insults, and settling scores in a manner which would make the twentieth century’s World Wars appear honourable affairs.’
Despite the trace of hyperbole, Benn is correct. As the Caliphate absorbed more territory, contradictory information emerged: the regime undoubtedly used the strictest interpretation of the Quran and sharia law, but most ‘provinces’ could be led either by a Sunni or Shia. While the nascent Caliphate instigated isolation from the rest of the world for its peoples, its rulers utilised all means available to get the measure of their enemies. Within a few years, outsiders could only reach the Caliphate’s ports, which acted as the hubs of its exports and imports: mostly oil to China, while in return China supplied the Caliphate with all of the raw materials it could not produce itself.
In the ten years from 2049 to 2059, some ninety-five investigative journalists from the US and Europe are known to have entered Caliphate territory. Only one ever returned. Ghatis Rafiq was a third-generation English Muslim who worked for The Guardian media outlet. In his 2057 book, Inside the New Caliphate , he describes his six months of adventures, first in Baghdad Province, on to Tehran Province, then finally in Basra Province. Among the drama and narrow escapes, Rafiq makes some salient observations: ‘… then I saw a depth of wisdom in the old village headman’s eyes. Abruptly, he stopped talking about Allah and infidels. He pointed around the barren landscape and said: “Look at those old women mending clothes. Look at the young children, playing. I am their headman, and my first duty is to protect them from violence, if I can. This is what the new order gives us. We abide by their laws,