Untitled Document
Long the example of how a prosperous Iraq might look, the northern
region's ugly side comes to the fore in a series of violent outbursts
Erbil, the capital of the Kurdish Autonomous Region of northern Iraq, is less
than an hour’s flight from Baghdad but almost a world away. While the
insurgent-plagued airport road in Baghdad is known as the “Highway of
Death,” the road from the newly opened Erbil International Airport, plagued
by nothing more dangerous than cyclists in spandex, wends through construction
for a real estate development called “Dream City,” a planned community
of several hundred California-style detached single-family homes, a supermarket
and an American school. Fueled by oil wealth from rich fields in the region,
Kurdistan has all the appearance of a budding market economy, with many of the
appurtenances of Western capitalism.
But the safety and progress in northern Iraq has come at a cost — and
the Kurdish government may be paying for it now. While the Kurdistan Regional
Government has a parliament and a president, the administration of Kurdistan
is carved up between two rival political parties the Kurdish Democratic Party
(KDP) in Erbil and the adjoining Dohuk governorates, and the Patriotic Union
of Kurdistan (PUK) in Suleymania Governorate. The two parties monopolize power
in their respective territories and their despotic tendencies threaten civil
liberties and the fledgling democratic process, creating an environment that
is rife with corruption and repression. Frustration at this dual monopoly appear
to have been behind a violent outburst yesterday at Halabja, the town on which
Saddam Hussein inflicted a barbaric chemical attack in 1988, killing 5,000.
It was the anniversary of the atrocity, and the mob destroyed the government-sanctioned
shrine to the victims of the attack.
While the KIU played a role in inflaming political debate ahead of the election
by accusing their rivals of being American and Israeli stooges, the incident
reflected the fact that the KDP and PUK rule Kurdistan in part by force and
fear.
Police State
Kurdistan is a veritable police state, where the Asayeesh —
the military security — has a house in each neighborhood of the major
cities, and where the Parastin “secret police” monitors phone conversations
and keeps tabs on who attends Friday prayers. While these security
measures are an important part of why Kurdistan has largely kept jihadi and
resistance cells from forming within its borders, security measures are often
used by the ruling parties as an excuse to crack down on opponents and independent
civil organizations, according to these groups. “Our members are regularly
thrown in jail for seven or eight months at a time without cause,” said
Hadi Ali, the Minister of Justice, the token KIU minister in the KDP-dominated
Erbil administration. “When they get out I tell them that they are lucky
to be alive and to keep quiet.”
The KDP and PUK each have their own militias, which are essentially the armies
of the local governments. According to the Minister of Justice, the courts in
the region are almost completely politicized, with judges often rubber-stamping
party decisions. The secret police even have their own judges, he said. During
each of Iraq’s three elections in the past year, police officers openly
campaigned for the ruling parties. Schools, hospitals and other government building
carry portraits of the respective party leaders, and access to education, jobs
and career advancement is often determined by party affiliation. Demonstrations
are banned unless they are party-sponsored. “Kurdistan isn’t a civil
society, it’s a partisan society,” says Rebwar Ali, head of the
Kurdistan Student’s Development Organization. “The presidents of
the universities, the university council, the deans and the heads of the departments
should all be members of one of the main parties, KDP or PUK. Admissions aren’t
based on merit, they are based of membership in one of the two parties. Scholarships
are only for party members.” Big business contracts depend on connections
and political affiliations as well, leading to a pandemic of corruption, according
to Kurdish businessmen and anti-corruption groups.
The KDP and PUK do include some smaller parties in their governing coalitions
and on their electoral lists, especially those composed of ethnic and religious
minorities, such as Assyrians Christians and Turkomen. But established opposition
parties say that these small parties have either been bought off or wholly invented
by the ruling parties, in order to give the appearance of diversity and broad
support. “It’s the old Middle Eastern mentality — that it’s
not enough just to win an election, they want to win by 99%,” says Salim
Kako, an official with the Assyrian Democratic Party. “Everyone has to
agree. You are not allowed to have your own opinion.”
A Hundred Small Saddams
Sunni-dominated Kurdistan is a tolerant refuge for religious minorities, who
are free to worship as they please, these groups say. But the ruling parties
keep tight rein over the Muslim religious establishment through the Ministry
of Awqaf, an institution that was created by Iraq’s British overlords
in the 1920s to control mosques, mullahs and what gets said in Friday sermons.
The Baathists maintained the Awqaf as a useful tool of coercion, but it was
disbanded by the American-appointed Governing Council in 2003 and forbidden
by Iraq’s new constitution. Yet Ministries of Awqaf still exist in Kurdistan,
and are still used to enforce political orthodoxy. “Instead of
one big Saddam, we have a hundred small Saddams in Kurdistan,”
says mullah Ahmed Wahab, a member of the Iraqi parliament for the KIU and the
head cleric of mosque in Erbil until he was fired by the Erbil Awqaf on the
pretext that he held two jobs.
The media in Kurdistan is extremely partisan and prone to propaganda.
There are no independent television stations in the region, and the future is
grim for independent radio news, according to Kurda Jamal, head of
US-funded Radio Nawa. “Kurdistan isn’t suitable ground for a free
media,” he said. “If America wasn’t here and if America wasn’t
funding us, the parties would move to shut us down.”
The lack of protection for free speech and the politicization of the
security services and judiciary in Kurdistan were made apparent by the case
of Dr. Kamal Said Qadir, a jailed law professor and journalist. Dr. Kamal, who
is also an Austrian citizen, criticized Masoud Barzani, who is both the President
of Iraqi Kurdistan and the head of the KDP, and other members of the Barzani
family, calling them “traitors to the Kurdish issue” in articles
published on an opposition website run by Kurdish expatriates. When Dr. Kamal
returned to Erbil last October, he was arrested and tried in secret. He was
sentenced to 30 years in prison for threatening the security of Kurdistan.
Dr. Kamal’s sentence is likely to be drastically reduced after appeal.
In an interview, Barzani to TIME that the laws under which he was charged need
to be changed. Says Barzani: “Although he has been very aggressive and
libelous against me personally I have forgiven him personally for what he has
written about me and ask other people whom he has been writing against to forgive
him as well.” Still, the treatment given to Dr. Kamal sent a clear signal
to journalists and government critics. “There are red lines that you cannot
cross,” said Saman Fawzi Omer, a professor of law at Sulymania University.
“You cannot criticize the leading members of the PUK and KDP or this is
what happens to you.”
Security and Self Rule
For all their abuses, the Kurdish ruling parties still have a great deal of
legitimacy among the Kurdish people. That's in part because they deliver what
Kurds haven't had for almost as long as anyone can remember: security and self-rule.
"There is still more to be done in Kurdistan," said Jamal Salih, 49,
a shopkeeper from Halabja, who survived the Iraqi military's gas attack that
killed 22 members of his family and about 5,000 other residents of Halabjja
in 1988. Though he lives without a pension despite his years as a PUK peshmerga
commando, and though he rebuilt his home and his shop without help from the
government, he isn't bitter. "The important thing is that we are Kurds
being governed by Kurds," he said.
And there are signs of a movement from within the parties to reign in the excesses
created by the two-party dominance. In January, the Kurdish parliament announced
plans to merge the two administrations. Barzani told TIME that one of the driving
forces in merging the administrations was to prevent abuses created by individuals
within each party. "The aim was to have some constitutional institutions
in the country so that the PUK and the KDP and together with the other parties
could become civil society parties, so that law will be the ruler in this country,
so that there will be transparency in the region."