[h3]The People's National Assembly, Algiers, Algeria - March 1960[/h3][hr]"Mister President, three minutes until your address." Farid Hamidou looked up from his desk, looking across towards his secretary. But like all secretaries for any member of the executive branch or any ambassador/politician deemed important enough, this secretary was no ordinary one. The Presidential Guard was an elite and obscure service branch of the Algerian Special Forces which oversaw the protection of the President and his family first and foremost. People often mistake that the entire Algerian Special Forces itself guarded the President constantly, ignorant of the separate entity within the Special Forces. It made him proud that Algeria had some of the most loyal, dedicated soldiers in the world, ready to die for their country and flag. The woman who stood in front of him was no exception, one of the top soldiers in the Presidential Guard and had served under him as a very straight forward secretary. She spoke her mind when she thought something was wrong and took care of him when he got too tired from discussing with the Provincial Branch. It was almost endearing in a way and he would've been more comfortable around her if he hadn't known that she could kill him in twenty different ways with just one hand. Not that she would, the military was too loyal to the state and its peoples, indoctrinating their soldiers to be so.

"Thank you Rida, I will be right out." Rida nodded and stepped backwards, slowly closing the doors to his office. The President's Office was a humble place, not as lavish as most would expect. A fine oak desk was situated to the back of the room with a great leather chair, the paintings of former Presidents on the back wall behind it. The floor was of a deep dark wood, contrasting beautifully with a lighter beige traditional Berber rug which laid in front of his desk. Surrounding the rug were several maroon leather sofas to serve as seats for any presidential guests. Drawers lined the walls and a small refrigerator was kept to the corner of the room for refreshments. Two more Presidential Guard in [url=https://monlegionnaire.files.wordpress.com/2015/09/3-tirailleurs-marocain.jpg]dress uniform[/url] stood at attention, both at two opposing corners of the room. They stood with their MAS-38's in hand, close quarters sub machine guns in case someone ever got this close to the President. Farid noted the French arms with a little disdain but knew it was out of necessity. Their former colonial overlords were more than happy to supply arms to Algeria for oil and assurance that the Old Republicans will be kept to Tamanrasset Province. For a military which was actively fighting two active insurgent groups, arms were important no matter were they came from and French ones were close in hand and quite high quality.

With his coming plans, Farid planned to cycle out the French arms altogether. Although [i]Pied-Noirs[/i] have largely been forgiven and form a formidable part of the military, the majority Arab-Berber population were still wary of the mainland French. There was tension in the air but they held a "cordial" friendship with each other due to their combined hatred of the Old Republicans. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend, I guess." He muttered, shuffling the papers in his hands before setting them against the table. He rid himself of such thoughts and focused on the task at hand. This might be the most important address to the nation he would ever have to make, at least by some standards. It would anger a select few of the populace (and give Traditionalists fuel to call the Algerian government heretics) but his approval ratings would skyrocket. After all, the referendum had taken place a week earlier and came with landslide results. His shoulders felt heavy as his thoughts settled.

This was going to make or break his career as President.

The man had already spoken to both of the parties his address involved. One thanked him humbly, shaking his hand in the holy city of Mecca with a smile on his face. The other shouted blasphemy, calling him a heretic and a traitor to the Muslim people. His resolve was firm however and his intentions were made. He would make this address to the disapproval of an old monarch but to the happiness of his people.

The President immediately straightened as the doors opened, grabbing his papers. His secretary stood in the doorway with two Presidential Guards by her side. "Mister President, it is time sir." He nodded in thanks, standing up to his full height of 6"0', shoulders back and head held high. It was time to face the music. He was dressed in his traditional Presidential robes with a fine maroon turban on his head. The Presidential ring, a simple band of gold which gave him control of an entire nation, was placed on his index finger. He strode towards the doorway and was led into the hallway. The halls were lined with paintings of great Algerian heroes such as his own predecessor, Rais Hamidou. Guards snapped to attention as he walked past, paying respect to their head of state. He turned right and stopped in front of a plain wooden door. The entourage of two Guards entered first and took positions on the back of the veranda, revealing the flashes of cameras and talking people. He took great strides towards the podium, the crescent moon on the front with the Algerian flag serving as the background.

The flashing was almost blinding, a crescendo of civilian chatter filling his ears. He stood on a veranda overseeing a square where all the [i]Wali[/i], and a great crowd of citizens amassed. This address wasn't going to be new to any of them, to the reporters which sat in the front, to the [i]Wali[/i] who sat in their high seats nor to the Algerian people who were going to read this on the newspaper or listen to him now. Farid stood behind the pedestal, putting out a hand and smiled. "[i]As-salaam 'alaykum[/i], fair people of Algeria. May I ask for silence?" His suave tone served to dampen the chatter among the crowd, reporters holding their notebooks in hand, pens on the ready. He took a deep breath. In and out, in and out. This was going to take a while.

"To my fellow countrymen, I have listened to your voice, to the voice of the people. We Algerians pride ourselves in our democracy and in our independence from powers long past. I have come to address one such power, on the behest of the Algerian people. I have heard your cries against injustice and imperialism. I have heard your pleas to shed the past and to unite the Arab World. To rid our ties to an Emperor who stands with a fallen empire! To rid our ties to an oppressor who refuses to listen to the cries of his fellow Muslims! To rid our ties an old man who refuses to recognise the power of the Arab people!" The crowd roared as reporters scribbled on their notebooks, the camera flashing intensifying as the various [i]Wali[/i] nodded their heads in approval.

Farid was spurred on by the crowd, his vigor showing through his every word. "I come to you as a leader who has spoken to his people and listened. I come to the entire Arab people across the Arab World with a call, to rouse in your slumber and believe in the power of the Arab! I come to represent my people, the fair men and women of Algeria! To my fellow Arab, you must rise with us! You must remember the hardships our ancestors faced, remember the tyranny in their rule. We must honour our ancestors, our forefathers, those who fought and bled for our freedom! To my fellow Muslims around the world, from the Moros of the Philippines to the Muhajir of Southern Asia, heed the call of your brothers. Listen to our plight, look to our past and see where you stand. Do you stand with the past, a broken empire who abused your fellow muslims or do you stand with the future!?"

The President raised his fist, grinning from ear to ear. "To the world, I stand before you to denounce Osman IV, leader of the broken Ottoman Empire, as Caliph and to stand in allegiance with the Sharif of Mecca! The protector of Mecca and Medina, descendant of al-Hassan ibn Ali, who stands against our former oppressors! I stand as a voice for my people, as a voice for the Arab and as a voice for the future!" The roars and shouts of approval from the crowd was like music to his ears. It was time to shed the past and set his plans in motion.