Following the election of Donald Trump, some are calling for a secession of certain states from the Union. The largest call is coming from California - a move called #CalExit.

I wrote this piece of fiction years ago after a visit to Old Town San Diego, the Birthplace of California, about how a Second California Republic might form.


 

Governor Martinez gripped the sill as he stared out of the window at the California Republic flag rippling in the soft Sacramento breeze. Its single red star a nod to another age when Californians rebelled against a stifling national power. Though it has been 200 years since the Monterey uprising, and the issues different, the fact remained that a government thousands of miles away had prospered on the backs, labor and natural resources of California while her own children suffered.

Below the red star and the proud bear on the flag, the governor pondered the red bar that striped the bottom. “Old Glory red” they call the color in the state’s flag code. As California was joining the Union, the southern states were breaking away and paid a steep price for that hubris. Death and destruction of their cities, farms, small industry and lifestyle came with the tidal wave of Blue the Union brought south. Texas, who also sewed a lone star on their flag, dreamed always of breaking away. But only California would be so bold; had the wherewithal no other state could claim.

The pull of the past and the inevitable tug of the future gave the governor another reason to pause as he stared south and west out of his corner office. The governor had symbolically shifted his office to the opposite side of the building. No longer would he look east and north to Washington and New York.

Directly he saw the Sacramento River out of his southwest windows. On the clearest of days, Governor Martinez dreamed he could see San Francisco Bay. And always, symbolically, views south lead to thoughts of Mexico and west across the Pacific.

There were such strong ties Californians had to Mexico City with the majority of the state’s residents claiming ancestry south of the border. And the border had never been more peaceful. The expulsion of the US Border Patrol at San Yasidro, Calexico and other crossings was of the first shot across the bow to the government in Washington.

The California National Guard now oversaw the movement of people north and south. With the Mexican Drug War quashed in the '20s, there was little concern of the violence and smuggling, both human and contraband, that once stained the line drawn in the Sonoran desert.

The governor turned away from the window and picked up a small framed photo. One of the few he kept on the office’s mantle, which had been cleared of the Stars and Stripes-wrapped ephemera his predecessors would display. The photo showed Governor Martinez standing in Tijuana and Mexican President Guadalupe-y-Garcia standing in San Diego, each with a hacksaw in hand, cutting holes through the border fence that once stood between the two neighbors.

A soft knock came to the door, pulling the governor out of his reverie. The governor’s adjunct strode into the office, a slight smile on his face and a snap in his step.

“The president awaits without. But first,” He handed the governor a folder containing a document with signatures gathered from Californians from Winterhaven to Crescent City. There was space on the parchment between the body of the document and the signatures for one large signature. The governor took the paper to his desk and with relish pulled an antique pen from an inkwell and signed in large script Pedro Martinez, Governor.

The governor allowed the ink to dry and returned the document to his aide. “Give this to the US President, please. And tell her the Prime Minister of the Second California Republic will now receive her.”