The world lost a great man this week. Togo's belligerent and brutal dictator President Edayema died, aged just 69. One of the last of the iron-fisted world leaders, Edayema's passing is another nail in the coffin of the emetic, yet enthralling, era of the crazy despots.

With the end of the Cold War, the decline of Russia, the recent toppling of Saddam and now the death of Edayema, the egomaniacal authoritarian leader is becoming an increasingly rare species.

The rapid advancements in communication evidenced over the last half a century or so, coupled with America's belligerent stance on tyrants, has made being a dictator a much more hazardous profession.

Keeping your subjects in a state of ignorant awe is decidedly trickier when foreign media intrudes upon your domain, and purging dissenters runs the risk of becoming a designated test site for America's incredible arsenal.
Indeed, if one happens to oversee an oil-rich country, as so many dictators do, then one can rest assured that it is only a matter of time before a fleet of F-16s attempts to commandeer one's airspace.

There are some notable attempts to redress the balance. North Korea's Kim Jong Il's actual possession of weapons of mass destruction ensures America leaves him alone, despite his repugnant human rights record.

Vladimir Putin's efforts to re-establish some form of totality over Russia are also commendable. However, he remains at an intermediary stage and is currently on the back foot following the Ukrainian election fiasco, where he was made to look a little silly in his forthright backing of the disreputable loser Victor Yanukovich.

So far then, real rivals to the legacies of Hitler, Stalin and Pol Pot remain sparse. Of the remaining purveyors of personality cults, Turkmenistan's "Turkmenbashi" (literally, "father of all Turkmen") is one of the best.

Turkmenistan was once a Soviet vassal state, governed by one Saparmurat Niyazov. When the Soviet Union collapsed, Mr Niyazov swiftly rebranded himself as Turkmenbashi, declared himself president, prime minister and commander-in-chief and established one of the most oppressive regimes on the planet.

In December 1999, he was graciously offered the presidency for life – by himself – but in a memorable moment of modesty, he turned it down, saying he may step aside and hold elections in 2010. This is because, as he said at the time, "the people respect me so much I can not sleep."

Like any successful autocrat, Turkmenbashi immediately transformed Turkmenistan into a one party state, ironically called the Democratic Party of Turkmenistan. Political dissidents are generally proclaimed insane and packed off to psychiatric hospitals. Failing that, they are simply sent to prison.

The media is all under the thumb of the government, obviously, and Mr Niyazov's ubiquitous portrait decorates the country in a very Orwellian manner. A golden headshot is on constant view in the corner of both of the television stations. For good measure, his image also adorns every bank note and even the national vodka.

The ever-humble leader takes issue with such publicity, "I'm personally against seeing my pictures and statues in the streets - but it's what the people want." Totalitarianism, it seems, is not without its pitfalls.
The requisite golden statue of the beloved leader commands the centre of the capital, Ashgabat. Turkmenbashi's statue is particularly impressive; rotating as it does, to always face the sun.

Image is not everything. Having christened himself, Turkmenbashi is obviously very proud of his name. The month of January is now known as 'Turkmenbashi', as is the main port town. Not wanting to completely hog the limelight, he graciously named April after his late mother.

Alongside all this, Turkmenbashi has also found time to ban beards, long hair and gold teeth. He dictates who enters and exits his country and who goes to university. When Mr Niyazov takes to the streets in his car, all other traffic is barred from the roads.

One of the hardest tasks of any dictator is creating a sustainable regime. All too many eras of despotic rule die out with their leader. Indoctrination of the young is key to future success.

Every night at dusk, Turkmenistan's five million inhabitants witness the ceremonially opening of the "Rukhnama", or "Book of the Soul". Personally written by Turkmenbashi, it is the spiritual guide for the people of Turkmenistan and contains the president's thoughts on everything from philosophy to ethics and the rebirth of Turkmen culture.

Such is the reach of this "new Koran" that every schoolchild in the country must spend one day each week studying it. All other means of education, have of course, been phased out. Thorough knowledge of the text is also part of the driving test.

All this comes at a price: Turkmenistan's economy is in crisis. An estimated 25 per cent of the adult population are unemployed; there is a strict and derisory maximum wage for public sector workers and the $16.4 million aid package received from the US in 2002 pales in comparison to the $1.4 billion Turkmenbashi has siphoned from the national treasury. He should indeed have trouble sleeping.