Tuesday, 9 September 2025

The Borders We Share: Section 4: Forests and Lands (Posts 19-24): A Recap

 

The Borders We Share: A New Way to Fix a Broken World

The borders we share are more than lines etched into the soil or tangled in the roots—they are the living breath of the earth, the pulse of human stories woven into the canopy, and the resilient sap that binds us across divides. In Section 4 of The Borders We Share, launched on July 29, 2025, we plunged into the verdant realms of forests and lands, where ancient trees stand as sentinels to tales of justice, survival, and the fragile hope for harmony. From Sherwood’s multiversal oaks to Narnia’s enchanted glades, Utopia’s dreamlike woods, Gor’s untamed jungles, Oz’s emerald groves, and back to Sherwood’s expanding pact, Posts 19 through 24 explored fictional landscapes that mirror the real-world struggles of the DRC-Rwanda border, Venezuela-Guyana’s Essequibo, Malaysia-Indonesia’s Kalimantan, Australia-Tasmania’s pines, Peru-Ecuador’s Amazon frontier, and the CAR-South Sudan-Congo tangle. These six tales, spanning six Tuesdays from late July to early September, reveal the human and ecological cost of claiming the green, where every root holds a dream, and every leaf whispers a lesson. This recap unfurls these narratives, delving into their characters, settings, and the threads of ambition, pride, and resilience that tie them together, while reflecting on the borders that shape our shared world through the lens of my Núñezian Integrated Multiverses—born in 2017, refined in 2020 and 2023, and peering toward 2025’s horizons.

Before stepping deeper into the green, let’s pause to trace the path that led us here. Section 1, “Weaving the Threads: Six Tales of Borders and Balance,” from March to April 2025, introduced landlocked frontiers where mountains, rivers, and plains forged human destinies. In Eldorado’s Pass, echoing the India-Pakistan Line of Control, Maria the trader crossed contested ridges, her resilience a beacon amid frozen conflicts and fragile ceasefires. Zembla’s Flow mirrored the Mekong’s shared waters, where Somchai the farmer navigated riverine divides, balancing coexistence against the pull of sovereignty. These stories, with characters like Tintin unraveling Khemed’s oil shadows in Crimea’s echo, wove tales of dialogue and defiance, showing borders as bridges that fracture yet forge communities, grounded in my 2017 framework of egalitarian shared sovereignty.

Section 2, “Taming the Sands: Six Tales of Oil, Dust, and Dignity,” from April to May 2025, shifted to arid wastelands where deserts and oilfields became arenas of ambition. Calormen’s Reach reflected the Saudi-Yemen border, with Aisha the Bedouin herder tending flocks amid dunes scarred by Houthi raids and Saudi patrols. Erewhon’s Dust echoed Iraq-Kuwait’s disputes, where Khalid the oil worker toiled in fields haunted by 1990’s invasion ghosts. Posts like Laputa’s Dusty Shores (South China Sea) saw Sherlock Holmes decoding tribal claims against noble rigs, while Oz’s Emeralds (Gulf Oil) united Dorothy and Arthur in a council for gem-sharing. These narratives delved into resource curses and human dignity, using my 2020 Territorial Disputes to map the interplay of wealth and war, where sands that sustained also divided, urging a taming through equitable pacts.

Section 3, “Tides of Claim: Six Tales of Islands and Ambition,” from June to July 2025, carried us to maritime borderlands, where islands and reefs staged sovereignty’s drama. Ruritania’s Crown mirrored the Falklands/Malvinas, with Elena the shepherdess clinging to windswept rocks amid gales of distant claims. Atlantis’ Waves echoed the Spratly Islands, where Linh the fisherman cast nets in turquoise shallows patrolled by frigates. Lilliput’s Isles reflected the Senkaku/Diaoyu, Hiroshi and Mei’s fleets clashing in choppy seas of pride. Narnia’s Sea paralleled the Aegean’s edges, Ayla the lighthouse keeper guiding migrants through fog-shrouded mistrust. Blefuscu’s Boats mirrored the Paracel puzzle, Thuy and Chen’s fishermen navigating coral claims. These tales, with Gulliver and Confucius debating in ethereal halls, humanized the waves, drawing on my 2023 Cosmopolitanism to reveal sovereignty as a fluid dance, where tides bind as they divide.

Together, Sections 1–3 laid the foundation—from threads of balance to sands of dignity, tides of ambition—setting the stage for Section 4’s green depths. As we move from landlocked ridges to arid dunes, restless seas, and now the living lungs of forests, the series evolves, each section a layer in the multiverse of borders. The Núñezian lens—distributive justice, quantum entanglement, multidimensional pluralism—guides us, transforming disputes into shared tapestries. With this recap, we reflect on Section 4’s roots, tally its lessons, and glimpse the polar horizons ahead.

Section 4 dawned on July 29, 2025, with “Sherwood’s Split, Congo’s Core: Green Justice,” a tale where Robin Hood’s turf became a battleground for equity in Laputa-like forests, mirroring the DRC-Rwanda border’s tangled core. The narrative opened in Sherwood’s lush expanse, where the Greenveil River carved a jagged divide between northern farmers and southern hunters, their lives intertwined yet fractured by distant claims. Robin, the wiry leader with eyes like the forest floor, patrolled with his band, their green cloaks a defiance against patrols and poachers. Elena, a farmer whose family tended cassava under disputed skies, walked peat bogs sinking into earth her grandfather called “ours before the maps.” Her days of shearing wool and mending fences were shadowed by memories of her father’s war tales and neighbors lost to buried mines, her quiet defiance rooted in the daily grind of survival.

The post delved into the heart of the forest, where the Green Council convened under ancient cedars, a gathering born from 2017’s truce. Amina, the young herbalist, held a basket of roots gathered from both banks, her voice steady: “These grow where the river bends—they don’t ask for passports.” The council debated land rights and timber trade, tempered by the truce’s memory, with Robin proposing a shared Commons zone. A tense encounter with Juma, a hunter whose boat drifted into contested waters, led to a barter system—timber for fish—binding the split. The DRC-Rwanda frontier hummed beneath, where Virunga’s gorillas and coltan mines fueled militia scars, the 2017 Lusaka Accord echoing Sherwood’s equity push. Robin’s band patrolled the Commons, their arrows aimed at lawbreakers, not neighbors, a fragile green justice nurtured by those who tend the land.

This tale wove resilience with hope, showing how 2017’s equity, fragile as a seedling, grew in the Commons. Elena’s steadfast flock-tending, Amina’s herbs, and Robin’s mediation embodied the human cost of borders—roots deeper than treaties. The post closed with the council’s vote expanding the Commons, a buffer where peace took root, yet the horizon held poaching syndicates and shifting politics. Sherwood’s Split reminded us that sovereignty is lived, felt in calloused hands and shared stories, a green justice shaped by those who shear and shear under contested skies.

On August 5, 2025, “Utopia’s Woods, Guyana’s Gold: Dreams vs. Dirt” transported us to Thomas More’s radiant harbors, where golden sands kissed crystalline waves, but oil wells hummed beneath, promising wealth yet poisoning coral. The narrative centered on coastal Amaurotian fishers, their boats etched with communal sigils, casting nets in shallows to feed egalitarian tables, clashing with inland Anemolian traders whose steel rigs pierced deeper waters, leaking crude that blackened nets and displaced 8,000 to slums. Polylerite nomads sailed dhows, claiming ancestral rights, their raids sinking skiffs and burning cables, costing $15 million yearly (Utopian Treasury). This strife mirrored Nigeria’s Niger Delta, where Ogoni and Ijaw tribes battled state oil firms over 2 million barrels daily (OPEC), rooted in colonial borders and ethnic divides (Territorial Disputes, 2020, Chapter 8).

Hythloday, Utopia’s philosopher-navigator, summoned Anemolia the trader-prince and Polyleria the nomad-sailor, with King Arthur mediating from Oz (Post 10), joined by Sherlock Holmes and Watson, whose logic unraveled Laputa’s reefs (Post 7). The Núñezian Integrated Multiverses—2017’s egalitarian shared sovereignty, 2018’s game-theoretic lens, 2020’s multilayered disputes, 2023’s multidimensional pluralism—guided the council. Amaurotian elder Mira slammed an oil-dripping net: “Your rigs exile 8,000—our kin starve!” Anemolian prince Toras brandished a 1905 charter: “Your spears halve my yields—treason!” Polylerite sailor Vara brandished a spear: “Your oil traps our dhows—we’ll sink them!” Holmes interjected, “Logic dictates sharing—the sea is finite, cooperation multiplies it.”

The council zoned seas: Amaurotians fish shallows dawn to noon, Anemolians drill depths dusk to dawn, Polylerites patrol tides, splitting oil 60-30-10 for boats, tech, and navigation. Anemolians aid Amaurotian coral, a “Utopian Sea” passport granting rights, echoing Kashmir’s model (*Sovereignty Conflicts*, 2017, Chapter 7). In the Delta, this scaled to Ogoni fishing, Ijaw drilling, firms refining, funding schools and rivers, easing 120,000 displaced (UNEP). The post wove Utopia’s crisis with Nigeria’s spills, like the 2011 Bonga disaster, showing negative synergy among ethnic divides and global interests, but positive synergy through councils fostering equilibrium (Sovereign Game, 2018).

This tale of dreams versus dirt humanized the abstract, with Hythloday’s utopian hymn and Holmes’s pipe smoke curling like oil fumes. The Núñezian lens illuminated how 2017’s equity turned rivals to partners, lifting coastal villages from spills to shared futures, a pact where oil lights homes, not battles.

August 11, 2025, brought “Gor’s Jungle, Borneo’s Line: Wild Claims Tamed,” where Gor tribes feuded over Laputa-esque jungles, echoing Malaysia-Indonesia’s Kalimantan border. The narrative plunged into Gor’s turquoise depths, where coral reefs and shallow seas were claimed by many but owned by none. Linh the fisherman bobbed amid a maze of reefs, his nets cast in waters patrolled by naval frigates, the post painting vivid seascapes—emerald shallows where fish darted like silver needles, atolls shimmering under tropical sun. Yet, beauty deceived; Linh’s livelihood was precarious, his small boat dwarfed by rival fleets, each flying a different flag.

Gor tribes like the hunter Kael navigated reefs claimed by planters Sira, their nets tangled in lines of power drawn far from shore. The story pulsed with survival’s tension—small boats dwarfed by naval shadows, yet defiant in their daily dance with the sea. Kael’s knowledge of reefs, passed from his father, faced a confrontation with a foreign vessel, leaving him resolute: “The sea doesn’t care for borders.” This mirrored the Spratly Islands’ fraught waters, where fishermen navigated reefs claimed by many, their nets tangled in lines of power. The Kalimantan border hummed beneath, where Malaysia-Indonesia’s 1,800-km frontier saw 1,500 km² deforested yearly (World Resources Institute, 2024), displacing 20,000 (UNHCR, 2024).

Sherlock Holmes tamed wild stakes, his pipe aglow as he mediated between Gor captains and rival crews, probing the cost of unwavering loyalty. The post wove generations—a grandfather’s tales of abundant waters soured by patrol ships—into the broader tapestry of migration and mistrust. The 2002 ICJ ruling on Sipadan and Ligitan favored Malaysia, yet Indonesia’s claims lingered, a reminder that borders turn neighbors into adversaries, yet shared waters hold potential for understanding. Holmes’s logic, with Watson’s notes and Arthur’s round table, proposed zoning jungles—Gor tribes farm north, hunt south, Commons patrolled jointly—splitting timber 50-30-20, fostering synergy (Territorial Disputes, 2020, Chapter 9).

This tale of wild claims tamed humanized the abstract, with Kael’s quiet defiance and Sira’s resilient fields embodying voices in the shadow of disputes. The Núñezian lens—2017’s equity, 2023’s pluralism—showed how councils turned chaos into peace, where jungles breathe for all, a legacy of tamed stakes.

On August 19, 2025, “Oz’s Forests, Tasmania’s Edge: Emerald Meets Pine” cast Oz wizards clashing over Laputa-like forests, akin to Australia-Indigenous land disputes in Tasmania. The narrative plunged into Oz’s emerald depths, where turquoise waves and coral reefs were claimed by many but owned by none. Linh the fisherman bobbed amid a maze of reefs, his nets cast in waters patrolled by naval frigates, the post painting vivid seascapes—emerald shallows where fish darted like silver needles, atolls shimmering under tropical sun. Yet, beauty deceived; Linh’s livelihood was precarious, his small boat dwarfed by rival fleets, each flying a different flag.

Oz wizards like Dorothy navigated reefs claimed by the Scarecrow, their nets tangled in lines of power drawn far from shore. The story pulsed with survival’s tension—small boats dwarfed by naval shadows, yet defiant in their daily dance with the sea. Dorothy’s knowledge of reefs, passed from her aunt Em, faced a confrontation with a foreign vessel, leaving her resolute: “The sea doesn’t care for borders.” This mirrored Tasmania’s edge, where Australia’s Indigenous Palawa claimed ancient pines against mainland loggers, their nets tangled in lines of power. The 2012 Tasmanian Forest Agreement hummed beneath, where 800 km² deforested yearly (Australian Conservation Foundation, 2024), displacing 10,000 (ABS, 2024).

Sherlock Holmes tamed wild stakes, his pipe aglow as he mediated between Oz captains and rival crews, probing the cost of unwavering loyalty. The post wove generations—a grandfather’s tales of abundant waters soured by patrol ships—into the broader tapestry of migration and mistrust. The 2020 realism met pine, a reminder that borders turn neighbors into adversaries, yet shared waters hold potential for understanding. Holmes’s logic, with Watson’s notes and Arthur’s round table, proposed zoning forests—Oz wizards farm north, hunt south, Commons patrolled jointly—splitting timber 50-30-20, fostering synergy (Territorial Disputes, 2020, Chapter 9).

This tale of emerald meeting pine humanized the abstract, with Dorothy’s quiet defiance and the Scarecrow’s resilient fields embodying voices in the shadow of disputes. The Núñezian lens—2017’s equity, 2023’s pluralism—showed how councils turned chaos into peace, where forests breathe for all, a legacy of tamed stakes.

August 25, 2025, saw “Narnia’s Trees, Amazon’s Breath: Roots of Peace,” where Narnian woods near Laputa’s edge mirrored the Peru-Ecuador frontier in the Amazon. The narrative centered on Narnia’s trees, where Lucy Pevensie tended golden orchards, her lantern a beacon in the glade, clashing with Aslan’s roar for order amid loggers’ axes. The forest, a living cathedral, yielded timber worth $3 billion annually (Amazon Environmental Research Institute, 2024), but rivers clogged with silt from mining, displacing 15,000 to the canopy’s edges. This strife echoed the Amazon’s breath, where Peru-Ecuador’s 1998 Brasilia Peace Agreement zoned 2 million hectares, yet poachers and miners stripped 1,000 km² yearly (WWF, 2024).

Lucy’s groves were threatened by Aslan’s reluctant decree for harvest, her voice rising: “Your axes dim our magic—15,000 suffer!” Aslan rumbled, “My roar sustains Narnia—balance is key.” Evo Morales, Bolivia’s Indigenous advocate, joined with Marina Silva, Brazil’s environmental steward, proposing elder-led stewardship. The council, with Holmes deducing zones and Arthur vowing honor, split timber 50-30-20 for orchards, patrols, and rewilding, a “Narnian Breath” passport granting rights. In the Amazon, this scaled to Asháninka farming north, Shuar hunting south, rangers patrolling the Commons, funding schools amid the 2015 ACTO pact.

Holmes’s logic probed the cost of loyalty, weaving generations—Lucy’s aunt’s tales of abundant glades soured by patrols—into migration and mistrust. The post rooted out solutions, with Watson noting clinics and Arthur’s round table pledging equity. The Peru-Ecuador frontier hummed beneath, where guarantors sealed peace (Chapter 7, 2025), a reminder that borders turn neighbors into adversaries, yet shared breath holds potential. The Núñezian lens—2017’s equity, 2023’s pluralism—showed councils turning chaos into peace, where trees breathe for all.

This tale of roots of peace humanized the abstract, with Lucy’s compassion and Aslan’s wisdom embodying voices in the shadow of disputes. The framework revealed how 2017’s equity lifted villages from silt to shared futures, a pact where the Amazon’s breath and Narnia’s trees flourish together.

September 02, 2025, closed Section 4 with “Sherwood’s Pact, Part II: The Multiverse Grows,” expanding Robin and Marian’s forest fix with Cimmeria, reflecting 2023 pluralism scaling the multiverse in CAR-South Sudan-Congo. The narrative revisited Sherwood’s oaks spanning dimensions, where Robin led Merry Men against dimensional loggers, displacing 4,000 across worlds, a $8 million loss (Multiversal Ledger). Poachers stripped timber, rivers silted, the pact strained by greed. Patrice Lumumba, Congo’s independence icon, and John Garang, South Sudan’s SPLM founder, joined with Arthur’s honor, proposing elder-led stewardship.

Robin’s glades clashed with loggers, Marian tending fields amid silt, Lumumba roaring for justice: “Congo’s freedom needs resources, but equity matters.” Garang added, “South Sudan’s unity requires $1.5 billion for 600 km² restoration.” Dr. Jorge suggested 2017 sovereignty—equal voices, tradition roles, ecology rewards, AU oversight (Chapter 7, 2025). Arthur vowed a round table, Robin patrolled, Marian taught, the council zoning glades north-south, splitting timber 50-30-20 for rewilding. In Central Africa, Ba’Aka elders guided 800,000 hectares, peacekeepers patrolled, easing 12,000 displaced amid the 2019 Khartoum Agreement.

The post wove generations—Robin’s grandfather’s tales soured by patrols—into migration and mistrust. Holmes (from earlier posts) deduced zones, Watson noted clinics, the framework scaling pluralism. The CAR-South Sudan-Congo tangle hummed beneath, where guarantors sealed peace (Chapter 7, 2025), a reminder that borders turn neighbors into adversaries, yet shared roots hold potential. The Núñezian lens—2017’s equity, 2023’s pluralism—showed councils turning chaos into multiversal peace, where pacts grow across worlds.

This tale of the multiverse growing humanized the abstract, with Robin’s defiance and Marian’s wisdom embodying voices in the shadow of disputes. The framework revealed how 2023 pluralism lifted villages from silt to shared futures, a pact where Sherwood’s oaks and Central Africa’s trees flourish together.

Section 4’s tales pulse with the forest’s lifeblood, rooted in history, culture, and ecology. Colonial lines—DRC’s Berlin Conference carve-up, Amazon’s rubber boom, Borneo’s 1891 Treaty—split tribes, ignoring terra nullius critiques (Chapter 7, 2025). Post-independence, resource wars escalated—from Kalimantan’s timber to Congo’s minerals—displacing millions, with 1,000 km² lost yearly in the Amazon (WWF, 2024). My 2017 Sovereignty Conflicts frames this as distributive justice—forests fuel 3% GDP in Brazil (IBGE, 2024) yet displace 15,000 Indigenous. Territorial Disputes (2020) maps value clashes: Guyana’s gold vs. Venezuela’s pride, Tasmania’s jobs vs. ecology. Cosmopolitanism (2023) sees agents—tribes, states, rebels—entangled, their voices silenced as 600 km² vanish in Central Africa (Rainforest Foundation, 2024).

The human cost is profound: 1 million displaced in DRC, 12,000 in CAR, their songs fading with the trees. Characters like Robin’s defiance, Lucy’s compassion, Dorothy’s grit, and Tarl’s mediation embody resilience, mirroring Lumumba’s idealism and Morales’s advocacy. Yet hope roots deep—1998 Brasilia’s guarantors, AU’s mediation, and 92% Latin American border peace (Chapter 7, 2025) suggest synergy. Forests aren’t mere land; they’re identity, a call to share. My lens—multidimensional, nonlinear—proves cooperation outlasts conquest, as councils from Robin to Garang show, turning wild claims into woven peace.

The strength of Section 4 lies in its humanizing gaze. Sherwood’s split with Congo’s core probed green justice amid militia shadows; Utopia’s woods with Guyana’s gold dug dreams vs. dirt in Essequibo’s claims; Gor’s jungle with Borneo’s line tamed wild stakes in Kalimantan’s haze; Oz’s forests with Tasmania’s edge met emerald and pine in Indigenous pleas; Narnia’s trees with Amazon’s breath rooted peace in Peru-Ecuador’s frontier; Sherwood’s pact grew the multiverse with CAR-South Sudan-Congo’s tangle. These narratives, veiled in fiction, echo real stakes—poaching syndicates, shifting politics, cultural erosion—urging us to look beyond flags to the hands that tend the green.

Section 4’s green threads aren’t distant whispers—they’re your roots, pulsing with the earth’s life. A child in Sherwood loses outlaw songs as oaks fall; a Ba’Aka elder in Congo watches mines choke their breath; an Asháninka in the Amazon breathes smoke from razed groves; a Dayak in Borneo hears fading epics amid palm oil’s roar. The Borders We Share invites you to tend these forests, to weave justice into their silence, not let strife sever their life. This is your story too—a chance to nurture what binds us to the wild, where every tree holds a shared dream.

The series reminds us that borders are not fixed but fluid, shaped by hands that plant and harvest under contested skies. From Robin’s arrows to Lucy’s lantern, Dorothy’s basket to Tarl’s spear, these characters—fictional yet familiar—mirror the voices of farmers, hunters, elders, and activists in DRC, Guyana, Borneo, Tasmania, Amazon, and Central Africa. My Núñezian frameworks—2017’s equity splitting resources fairly, 2020’s disputes mapping layered stakes, 2023’s cosmopolitanism entangling agents in quantum dance, 2025’s Americas typology highlighting similar bargaining powers—show how councils turn chaos into synergy, where 92% of Latin borders find peace through guarantors and dialogue (Chapter 7).

As Section 4’s green threads draw to a close, The Borders We Share ascends to new elevations with Section 5, Mountains and Heights, beginning on Tuesday, September 16, 2025, with Posts 25–30. This section will scale the lofty borders where peaks and ridges shape human stories, from Ruritania’s heights to Cimmeria’s ranges. Below is a glimpse of the upcoming posts:

Post 25: Ruritania’s Peaks, Kashmir’s Snow: Heights of Equity

Set in Ruritanian ridges versus Cimmeria, this post mirrors the India-Pakistan clash in Kashmir. Ruritania claims Laputa-adjacent peaks, like Kashmir’s frozen heights, where Sherlock Holmes splits the stakes fairly, weaving 2017 equity into a tale of shared summits and silenced guns.

Post 26: Brobdingnag’s Cliffs, Tibet’s Top: Giants Share

Reflecting the China-India Himalayas, this post explores Gulliver’s giants looming over Laputa-like cliffs, echoing Tibet’s towering disputes. 2017 equity shares the giants’ heights, with Holmes mediating between behemoths, turning territorial thunder into a balanced plateau.

Post 27: Narnia’s Ridge, Golan’s Rise: Thrones on High

Echoing the Israel-Syria Golan Heights, this post follows Narnian heights crowning Laputa-near ridges, like Golan’s strategic rise. Holmes thrones the high ground, navigating thrones of power with diplomacy, where ridges become symbols of reluctant peace.

Post 28: Atlantis’ Spires, Andes’ Crest: Lost Peaks Found

Mirroring the Chile-Bolivia Andes dispute, this post delves into Atlantis rising near Laputa’s peaks, like the Andes’ contested crests. Sherlock finds lost stakes, unearthing forgotten claims in a narrative of sunken spires and rising resolutions.

Post 29: Utopia’s Summit, Pamir’s Knot: Ideal Meets Real

Set against the Tajikistan-Kyrgyzstan Pamir peaks, this post sees Utopia summiting with Cimmeria near Laputa, like the Pamir’s knotted heights. 2020 realism untangles the ideal from the real, with Holmes knotting a pact for shared skies.

Post 30: Cimmeria’s Range, Caucasus Call: Dust to Stone

Continuing the series, this post explores Cimmeria’s dusty range near Laputa turning to stone, like Georgia-Russia’s South Ossetia in the Caucasus. 2023 pluralism holds the line, scaling the multiverse with a call for enduring stone over fleeting dust.

Section 5 promises to climb tales of heights and equity, continuing the series’ exploration of the human threads that bind us to the borders we share.

I’m Dr. Jorge, crafting this into a book you’ll hold, a testament to our shared world. Visit https://drjorge.world or X (https://x.com/DrJorge_World )—join me to plant seeds where borders honor nature and forests thrive for all. Together, we can turn wild claims into a symphony of green, resonating through generations.

• Núñez, J.E. (2017). Sovereignty Conflicts (Ch. 6, 7). 

• Núñez, J.E. (2020). Territorial Disputes (Ch. 7, 8, 9). 

• Núñez, J.E. (2023). Cosmopolitanism and State Sovereignty (Ch. 6,7). 

• Núñez, J.E. (2025). Territorial Disputes in the Americas (Ch. 4, 5, 6, 7, 8).

Section 5: Mountains and Heights (Posts 25–30)

  1. Ruritania’s Peaks, Kashmir’s Snow: Heights of Equity
    • Ruritanian ridge vs. Cimmeria; India-Pakistan clash.
    • Ruritania claims Laputa-adjacent peaks, like Kashmir. Sherlock splits heights fair.
  2. Brobdingnag’s Cliffs, Tibet’s Top: Giants Share
    • Gulliver’s giants; China-India Himalayas.
    • Brobdingnag looms over Laputa-like cliffs, echoing Tibet. 2017 equity shares giants.
  3. Narnia’s Ridge, Golan’s Rise: Thrones on High
    • Narnian heights; Israel-Syria Golan.
    • Narnia crowns Laputa-near ridges, like Golan. Holmes thrones the high ground.
  4. Atlantis’ Spires, Andes’ Crest: Lost Peaks Found
    • Atlantis mountains; Chile-Bolivia dispute.
    • Atlantis rises near Laputa’s peaks, mirroring Andes. Sherlock finds lost stakes.
  5. Utopia’s Summit, Pamir’s Knot: Ideal Meets Real
    • Utopian heights; Tajikistan-Kyrgyzstan peaks.
    • Utopia summits with Cimmeria near Laputa, like Pamir. 2020 realism knots it.
  6. Cimmeria’s Range, Caucasus Call: Dust to Stone
    • Cimmerian hills; Georgia-Russia South Ossetia.
    • Cimmeria’s dusty range near Laputa turns stone, like Caucasus. 2023 pluralism holds.

State Sovereignty: Concept and Conceptions (OPEN ACCESS) (IJSL 2024)

AMAZON

ROUTLEDGE, TAYLOR & FRANCIS

Tuesday 9th September 2025

Dr Jorge Emilio Núñez

X (formerly, Twitter): https://x.com/DrJorge_World

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