word looked up : home / archive

 Military dictatorship : Junta 

A military dictatorship is a form of dictatorship where the dictator, or a small group, rules through direct personal control of the military. In most cases the military will be assembled into a Junta, with represenatives who function as members of the cabinet. The Junta is usually led by a chairman, who may or may not also assume the title of president.

The word Junta, from the Spanish language word for "conference" (and can also be used to mean "tribunal" or "council").

Most military dictatorships are formed after a coup d'état. In the past, military juntas have staged coups in an attempt to bring stability to the nation, save it from the percieved threat of a dangerous ideology, or simply because they feel the interests of the military are being ignored by the current administration.

Nations currently under military rule:

Nations with legacies of military dictatorships:

See: police state, dictator

Touches a lyre; content with my poor skill I thought at times: Is there no sweet lost air.html">air Oh, he alone, alone could so fulfil He is gone, and silence takes me unaware. The songs I knew not he resumes, set.html">set free His part in our tune goes with him; my part As one with full strong music in his heart.html">heart THE POET SINGS TO HIS POET From dawn.html">dawn to dusk.html">dusk.html">dusk, and from dusk to dawn, A few stars shake o'er the rocky lawn The twilight comes with thy shadowy feet. We are not day and night, my Fair, And thoughts that are not otherwhere This meeting and this dusk of ours. Delight has taken Pain to her heart, Oh, linger, linger! They would not part; With a new song to the olive trees. And when we meet by the sounding pine And when thy sweet eyes answer mine, And Hope and Weariness kiss each other. 'SOEUR MONIQUE' What has given you to my inward eyes? In the throngs of centuries This old master's melody This admired simplicity, And two words, the name of it, It is sad with mysteries That the passing ages sing, - Of the dying and the birth Sad with living as we are; Sad self on a selfless thing, With our sympathy for Spring, For the innocent and far, Or our sadness in a child. But two words, and this sweet air. Had he more, who set you there? Of some perfect nun he knew, With your life held in your hand And your thoughts in calm arrays, On your rosary of days. With their quiet prayers did meet Of this wind of words, this storm of cries, In the storms of long ago, - Of the evils triumphing, .

 On wordlookup.net  

All is still licensed under the GNU FDL.
It uses material from the wikipedia.



logo

navig stuff

home
archive