Ankh-Morpork
| Ankh-Morpork | |
| Established | -2564 UC (AM 1) |
| Motto | Quanti canicula ille in fenestra (How Much is That Doggie in the Window) and Merus in pectum et in aquam (Pure in Heart and Water) |
| Neighbours | The city-states of the Sto Plains |
| Geographical Features | River Ankh, The Isle of Gods, The Tump |
| Population | approx. 1 million |
| Size | 1 mile across (about 1.6km) (excluding suburbs outside the city walls) |
| Capital | {{{capital}}} |
| Type of government | Ruled by a Patrician, currently Havelock Vetinari, under the system of One Man, One Vote. Before that, a monarchy. |
| Notable Citizens | Commander Sam Vimes of the Watch, Captain Carrot Ironfoundersson (heir to the throne), Lord Downey (head of the Assassins' Guild), Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler (salesman), Lord Selachii and Lord Venturi, perpetually warring noblemen. |
| Imports | Dwarfs, Trolls, raw materials, trouble |
| Exports | Manufactured goods, politics, trouble |
| National Anthem | We Can Rule You Wholesale |
| Books | All books in the Watch Series and Ankh-Morpork Books, and Maskerade, Soul Music, Hogfather, Thief of Time |
The City
Ankh-Morpork is the largest city on the Disc with about a million inhabitants. It is also one of the most common locations for the Discworld stories. Its Latatian name is Ankhius et Morporkia. In Moving Pictures, we learn its nickname is "the Big Wahoonie" (an ugly, smelly fruit). The city lies on the river Ankh, which resembles solid ground more than it does water. Originally two cities separated by the river, Ankh and Morpork today are governed as one (admittedly potentially schizophrenic) entity.
The river is semi-solid, the water has a taste, the air is smoggy (the birds cough rather than sing) and following a snowfall the streets are left a muddy slurry. Baking hot in summer, cold and snowy in winter, Ankh-Morpork has a "despotic ruler" (some say) who has succeeded in so thoroughly organizing crime that it is self-regulating. While ethnic riots and feuds are common, Ankh-Morpork is still the place where everybody wants to live. Ankh-Morpork now has the largest dwarf population outside of Überwald and is in fact the Discworld's largest dwarf city. Likewise, Ankh-Morpork is home to probably the only troll crime syndicate on the Discworld. Not to be undone, the undead can meet in their own taverns or support groups and have a Bloody Mary or a mug of hot cocoa, depending on individual tastes. Evangelical preachers find a huge potential flock to convert, often immigrants seeking their fortunes here or refugees who have come seeking peaceful lives (which is frankly very strange – perhaps they have been mis-informed by a travelog written by a tourist, or maybe it just depends on the perspective).
The city of Ankh-Morpork is the first major setting to appear in the Discworld series, starring (as it were) in Part 1 of The Colour of Magic and reappearing in virtually every Discworld book in a cameo role if not as a major setting. Known to Death as a city that never sleeps, Ankh-Morpork prides itself on being a city where you can buy anything you can think of; indeed, if they don't have it, with a modicum of notice they will gladly steal it in order to sell it to you. It has been said that Ankh-Morpork's primary exports are smog and modern power politics. Indeed, a foreign ruler once likened Ankh-Morpork to a vampire; taking everything and turning other states into lesser copies of itself.
The People
Ordinary Ankh-Morpork citizens are inordinately fond of street theatre, and have a very liberal definition of such. They will gather and watch anything occurring in the streets, while something that is actually interesting can bring the city to a complete halt. Some popular one-act productions include the Guild of Fools on fire, somebody threatening to jump off the top of a building (even though everybody knows they're doing it just to get tobacco money), public hangings and so on. Where crowds gather, Mr. Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler ("cutting-me-own-throat" as in he's selling things so cheaply it's suicidal) is guaranteed to be present, selling sausages-in-a-bun and other unhygienic, possibly un-food, fast food. If there is a crowd and Dibbler is there and not selling anything, then there is something seriously wrong (really seriously wrong).
Ankh-Morpork citizens are very touchy about the reputations of things such as, the state of the River Ankh, the democracy, or the caterpillars in their imported cabbages. Ankh-Morpork also houses many noble families. Historically, Ankh-Morpork has warred against other city-states on the Sto Plains and against Klatch across the Circle Sea. Ankh-Morpork nobles typically look down upon The Kingdom of Lancre and go on tours to sneer at Überwald. Many countries owe Ankh-Morpork a lot of money. When things are peaceful, Ankh-Morpork is the boss; when somebody turns directly against Ankh-Morpork however, Ankh-Morpork finds very few allies (though it does find bill-collectors rather more useful than allies in any event).
Nobles of other countries often send their children to attend the Assassins' school (assuming they look good in black clothing; otherwise The Fools' Guild and Seamstresses' Guild are always welcoming new members). In short, although just about everybody who lives in Ankh-Morpork has some complaints about living there, for the most part they continue. To live. There.
Government
The city is formally ruled by the Patrician, the absolute tyrant elected by the council of guilds, although the guilds and temples make many of the everyday decisions. Affairs of state and the small volume of local government are carried out from the Patrician's Palace by a select staff of Clerks under the close supervision of Patrician Havelock Vetinari. There is very little crime in Ankh-Morpork since much of it is legalised and handled by the guilds. It's up to the guilds themselves to keep criminality at a reasonable level. The Ankh-Morpork City Watch, practically resurrected only in the last few years, takes care of sporadic crimes.
Economy
The business of Ankh-Morpork is business. As a city-state, it has no natural resources. Even its river is too thick to navigate and too soft to walk. The city owns things, makes things, buys and sells things. It imports the raw materials and the people who turn them into the tools, weapons, shoes, books and trinkets for most of the Disc from Llamedos to Genua. A steady stream of immigrants from all around the world bring skills, strength and new technologies and send home Ankh-Morpork dollars which buy Ankh-Morpork exports in turn.
Taxes
Lord Vetinari often points out that tax revenues in Ankh-Morpork are insubstantial and unreliable. This is normal for politicians (incumbents, that is,) who are always constrained by their budgets in good times and bad. However, it does appear that no one in Ankh-Morpork pays taxes except the Vimes household, so how does the Palace support the Watch, the Clerks or indeed its own tax-collectors?
There are other revenues available to government beside income, sales and property taxes. Duties and excise, user fees and tolls, and license fees can be levied. These tend to be more politically acceptable, as they are often charged to someone else. Duties, tolls and docking fees applied to foreigners are especially popular, since they're not immediately associated with increased prices for imported goods. As the largest city and trading port on the Disc, Ankh-Morpork has considerable capacity for this sort of "hidden" taxation.
Another revenue stream would be fines and the appropriation of the proceeds of criminal operations. Even unconvicted criminals are likely to flee the Patrician's rather rough justice, leaving behind some unaccounted valuables. William de Worde managed to scoop a bag of rubies, but much of this will fall into the hands of the City Watch, and so the City. (Assuming Nobby Nobbs is being watched, of course.)
Apparently such devices have sustained the system so far, and allowed it to tolerate the inept management of the revenue office, but for grand schemes underground a lot of money must be raised.
Although we can also glean the following:-
Samuel Vimes is on record, in a room full of rich tax-evaders, as saying he pays his. What are the City taxes and how are they asessed?) In Reaper Man, we hear of the wranglings between the University and the Patrician as to whether the city's per capita tax applied to wizards. This tax is explicitly described as $200 per head, payable in four quarterly instalments of $50. Several problems emerge instantly when analysing this. For instance, Topsy Lavish implied that the majority of poorer people in Ankh-Morpork are on incomes of $150 a year or less for all expenses. A tax of $200 would be impractical and uncollectable? Also, in a city of a million people, this implies Vetinari would have an annual taxable income of $200,000,000. This is hardly in keeping with the air of a great city, fallen from grace and poverty-stricken, that he very carefully projects when asked for money. This also places a very optimistic gloss on the willingness of A-M citizens to pay tax! (Reference Carrot's patient memory-jogging session with the Dwarf bakers in Men at Arms) Not to mention the City's ability to collect, which Vetinari admits at the end of Making Money is in urgent need of review. One would suspect that a City poll tax exists, but is very carefully gradated to reflect ability to pay - ie, an institution such as the University, perceived to be rich, pays more for its fully graduated wizards than, say, for non-teaching staff or students. It may even be charged with collecting this on behalf of the City and handing over an agreed lump sum (the text of Reaper Man implies this). In which case other informal "honesty-box" arrangements may exist with other Guilds and institutions. However, this is open to abuse or at least liberal interpretation, as witnessed by the attitude to taxation taken by the Guild of Accountants in Jingo. This august body annually uses its professional expertise to argue for a net tax rebate, as opposed to making a payment...
With a taxpayer like Vimes prepared to assemble a squad of his very best officers at immediate notice, to go out and speak to people suspected of non-tax compliance (as we see in Jingo), and with Carrot seeing it as part of his Watch duties to assist busy tradesmen with the necessary paperwork concomitant with registering as a taxpayer, it would appear that whoever is appointed to the position of Tax-Gatherer General will have the full, complete, and whole-hearted support of the City Watch.