Losing Erbil

Losing Erbil

[caption id="attachment_55249764" align="alignnone" width="620"]Iraqi Kurdish anti-government protesters march in the city of Sulaimaniyah on February 17, 2011 (SHWAN MOHAMMED/AFP/Getty Images) Iraqi Kurdish anti-government protesters march in the city of Sulaimaniyah on February 17, 2011 (SHWAN MOHAMMED/AFP/Getty Images)[/caption]Can flight timetables tell us anything about international politics? Five nights a week, wheels go up just after midnight from Istanbul’s Atatürk International Airport and touch down at Suleimaniyah International Airport in Iraq’s autonomous Kurdish enclave at nearly four in the morning. The dead-of-night scheduling makes it a decidedly unpleasant trip; one that, to some, might suggest Kurdistan is ignored and irrelevant.

Yet, even in the wee hours, hundreds of people line the ropes, waiting for family and friends to disembark, greeting their emerging loved ones with quartets of kisses on the left cheek. Mothers in headscarves cry over the arrival of their children. Spirited Kurdish chatter fills the undersized arrivals area.

One passenger was returning to his family home in Suleimaniyah for the first time in eight years. Twelve years ago, he completed an arduous journey—all too familiar to many Kurds—across Turkey, through Europe, and under the English Channel, hiding on the back of a lorry, to obtain refugee status in Britain. Thousands of Kurds have made similar treks to any country in Europe willing to grant them refugee status. Kurds’ strength in the Diaspora serves as a reminder of a bygone era, when they were divided internally, persecuted domestically, and shunted aside internationally.

Today, the infrequent, dead-of-night flights belie the importance of Kurdistan in Iraq—and in the wider Middle East. The Kurdistan Regional Government (KRG) is locked in a standoff with Nuri Al-Maliki’s Baghdad regime over how to interpret articles on natural resource development in Iraq’s constitution—a dispute in which Turkey, the US, and a slew of multinational oil companies also have deep interests. Meanwhile, in an increasingly volatile Iraq, the Kurdish region stands apart for its internal security, secular disposition, and relatively democratic government—values the US has ostensibly spent more than a decade trying to promote in the region. Finally, the Kurds—perhaps more than any other regional player—maintain a highly diverse range of regional relationships built up during decades on the political margins.

Yet, for all of Kurdistan’s promise, it continues to face challenges—internal, domestic, and international—that could undermine its considerable progress. For the Kurds, this will require assiduous attention to its democratic development and geopolitical limitations. For the US—and any other countries interested in democratic progress in the Middle East—the Kurds’ struggles signal an urgent demand for increased support and new policies that align more closely with the US’s professed goals in the region.

New movement, old rules?



The advent of Kurdish democratic self-government dates back to 1991 and the post-Gulf War Kurdish uprising against Saddam Hussein. Infamously, George H. W. Bush had urged the Iraqi people to rise up, and the Kurds responded. When Saddam massed his forces in response to inflict yet another massacre on the Kurds, the US took no immediate action. Aggressive lobbying from Morton Abramowitz and Marc Grossman—ambassador and deputy chief of mission to Turkey, respectively—convinced Secretary of State James Baker of the situation’s gravity, and the US implemented Operation Provide Comfort to protect Kurdish civilians and supply aid, and Operation Northern Watch, a no-fly zone which was enforced until the 2003 Iraq invasion. Internecine Kurdish violence—a civil war between the two major political–military parties—led to the Washington Agreement, a delicate, comprehensive power-sharing agreement between Massoud Barzani’s Kurdistan Democratic Party (KDP) and Jalal Talabani’s Patriotic Union of Kurdistan (PUK). With that, Iraq’s Kurds seized the opportunity to govern their own affairs in Iraq’s three northernmost provinces.

For just over a decade, the political consensus of joint KDP–PUK governance held firm. In 2009, Nawshirwan Mustafa—Talabani’s longtime right-hand man in the PUK—defected, establishing Gorran, the Movement for Change. Gorran quickly became the largest opposition group to the dominant Kurdistan List. In the recent elections of September 2013, the KDP and PUK ran as separate lists, and Gorran, despite losing one seat overall, came second with 24 percent of the vote and 25 members in parliament.

The 2013 elections indicated that Gorran had staying power in Kurdistan, while putting the Kurdish protests against government corruption and economic inequality in early 2011 in perspective. Around a dozen people were killed in the course of the unrest as government security forces put down the protests, and subsequently the protestors seem to have channeled their disenchantment into supporting the Gorran movement.

While touring Suleimaniyah—the focal point of demonstrations—I spoke with an organizer of the 2011 protests. He spoke passionately of the disaffection at how the political elites had mismanaged the country, its natural resources, and its economic progress. Their support, he argued, derived only from their massive patronage networks, which purchased political acquiescence. Gorran gave voice to the economically ignored, he said, and a feeling of protection from the whims of the dominant powers in the KRG.

The protest organizer’s beliefs would have pleased Gorran’s leading figures. One Gorran leader spoke eloquently about the possibilities open to Kurdistan. With its abundant natural resources, Kurdistan could thrive—if only the political leadership would faithfully steward the profits, invest in education, and improve the country’s infrastructure. Instead, he argued, the KDP and PUK had squandered the trust of the people by lining the pockets of those close to the government and keeping windfall profits within an oligarchy of political elites. Gorran’s appeal, he explained, was in its promise to bring the future benefits of Kurdistan’s nascent economy to a wider swath of the country’s people.

From this point of view, Gorran may represent the latest stage in Kurdistan’s democratic development. The organic rise of opposition groups, the shifting of alliances, and the rise of new political powers are hallmarks of vibrant democracies. In the cafés of Suleimaniyah, the preponderance of young people seems to support Gorran. They too have recognized the political rot and cast their votes for change.

Yet, approached differently, a real fear exists that Gorran is a familiar product in new packaging. Though many young people had voted for Gorran, their deep cynicism and suspicions that nothing would change were startling. They voted for Gorran in protest, not out of conviction. The disillusionment of the KRG’s youth seems to be teetering on the brink of disengagement.

It was hard to fully discern the reasons for their skepticism, but Gorran’s roots in the PUK might partially explain their mistrust. Despite a progressive message, some of Gorran’s political methods are plainly retrograde. One local writer disdainfully noted that Gorran had staked out a small colony within Suleimaniyah from which to run its operations, justifying the land grab by claiming it was a gift from Talabani. Gorran may speak reassuringly about change, but the way it conducts its affairs demands a healthy skepticism.

The prospects for change within the KRG may be hazy, but the existence of a Kurdish political crisis is not. Gorran achieved second party status due largely to the implosion of the PUK. The KDP gained substantial ground, cementing itself as the dominant party, but the power-sharing that has marked the post-civil war period now seems outmoded with the PUK’s fall. The election results have frozen Kurdistan’s politics, with the formation of a new government delayed several times so far, and the KDP–PUK coalition continuing to rule the autonomous enclave. The post-election paralysis hardly inspires renewed confidence among people who seek change.

Some in Gorran believe the stalemate may help its fortunes in the upcoming Iraq-wide elections on April 30. If Gorran wins the Suleimaniyah governorate, and maintains its level of support, they explain, the KDP may be swayed to bring Gorran into the new government. How the PUK—politically powerful, if not popularly supported—might respond to the dissolution of the agreement that generated 15 years of peace and stability remains a troubling question.

A tenuous lifeline



While Kurdistan sorts out its internal political instability, the standoff with Baghdad continues over natural resources development. According to the Kurds, the constitution affords them the right to develop the region’s oil and gas independent of centralized control. The KRG lured dozens of companies, including ExxonMobil, with favorable production deals opposed by Baghdad.

In recent months—and in response to the KRG’s unreformed stance on resource development—Maliki’s government ceased payment of Kurdistan’s monthly share of oil and gas revenues. Those payments of more than 1 billion US dollars financed the KRG’s operations; withholding them caused a serious disturbance in the daily lives of many Iraqi Kurds. Recently, Baghdad agreed to pay nearly 500 million dollars to the KRG to keep it functioning, though without an overall resolution of the natural resource issue.

The problem with Baghdad’s half-measure is that the KRG’s monthly payroll alone amounts to 720 million dollars. A salary freeze ensued, further enfeebling an already fragile economy. Out to dinner at a popular Erbil restaurant one weekend, its emptiness startled my companions. In the bazaar, one journalist friend interviewed gold salesmen about individuals, desperate for cash, parting with jewelry to pay household expenses.

Consider the precariousness of a society in which about 70 percent of the government budget supports individuals—20 percent of the population—on the public dole. Many fear the birth of an entitlement society—one that eschews hard work and investment in the future for consumption today, content to live off its share of windfall natural resource profits disbursed through developed patronage networks.

Creeping doubts about Kurdistan’s business climate only exacerbate the economic instability. A friend who helps facilitate foreign business ventures in Kurdistan assailed the government’s amateurish dealings with big business. Several years back, a 3 billion dollar Emirati venture went sour, but many investors waved it away as the teething pains of an immature economy. The growing fear, this friend suggested, is that not enough has changed since then.

The salary crisis has exposed the KRG’s near-complete lack of leverage in its relationship with Baghdad. The Kurds have held firm on their interpretation of the constitution and completed their pipeline to Turkey, while publicly discussing when it might come fully online. Politicians and average citizens alike whisper breathlessly about independence. But the monthly 1 billion dollar transfers the KRG relies upon to finance its affairs are Baghdad’s trump card. An independence bid would rupture the tentative peace between Baghdad and Erbil, with Baghdad cutting off funding and Erbil scrambling frantically to ward off economic collapse. In light of this, the threat to declare independence simply lacks credibility.

Starting the flow of oil through Turkey’s ports would strengthen the KRG’s hand, as an independently controlled revenue stream would mitigate the effects of Baghdad’s whims. Yet, to date, Turkey has acted as a mediating force in the Baghdad–Erbil relationship—a faint echo of Turkey’s pretensions to regional leadership through mediating disputes. The KRG is uncomfortably beholden to Ankara’s policies, and Turkey remains unwilling to commence exports without Baghdad’s assent. The Kurds have little choice but to maintain the tenuous status quo.

Meanwhile, in Kurdistan’s oil sector, typical managers may live in a 5,000-dollar-a-month home in Erbil’s American Village. They drive company cars or have private drivers shepherd them around town. Executives and employees shuttle in and out, flying business class around the region and trans-continentally on the company dime. Most importantly, these companies have invested heavily in exploring and extracting Kurdistan’s underground riches.

In a country where total oil exports amount to a few hundred thousand barrels a day trucked over land, all this investment is massively expensive. The political stalemate between the KRG, Maliki’s government, and Turkey, has left these oil companies with no other option but to wait. How long are they willing to wait, though, to turn cost centers into profitable investments? At what point will they use their clout to get oil flowing, and on which side will they lean?

When asked these questions over dinner one evening, two acquaintances from the oil industry simply shrugged. They acknowledged the validity of the questions, and agreed that the potential profits were too great not to solve the problem, but they proffered no concrete strategies.

American neglect



A more focused, strategic set of policies from the US toward Kurdistan would help matters. Despite the challenges Kurdistan faces, the Kurds’ strides towards democracy, commitment to secular government, and historically pro-American disposition make them a natural US ally. Moreover, committed US support could ameliorate some of the challenges Kurdistan faces.

But the US continues to view Kurdistan through a “One Iraq” lens—a policy perspective that sees threats in any major divisions among the new Iraq’s tentative domestic partners. The Obama administration has sided with the Maliki regime in the dispute over the Iraqi constitution—a dismayingly familiar tilt to any passing student of Kurdish history.

The Baghdad-oriented policy of the US hardly makes bold action from Turkey on Kurdish oil and gas exports more likely. In its attempt to rebuild regional standing, Turkey has concentrated its efforts on defusing conflict with Iraq. The chances are slim that Turkey would line up in opposition to both Washington and Baghdad, but a shift in US policy on Iraq’s constitution—and more vocal support for Kurdistan generally—could give Turkey the cover it needs to drop the pretense of mediation. For the US’s part, it would finally support the only group in Iraq to show much appreciation for democratic ideals and development.

The US State Department’s travel advisory for Iraq provides another example of the forced symmetry between the KRG and Baghdad. While violence rages in the south, Kurdistan is peaceful—a disheartening parallel to the worst days of the Iraq War. Yet, the State Department fails to distinguish between the regions of Iraq, and the Kurds lose out on economic opportunities as a result.

The State Department—due to an absurd mix of gaping oversight and lagging bureaucracy—also lists both the KDP and PUK as foreign terrorist organizations. After September 11, groups fighting armed struggles against their governments were labeled terrorist organizations—even when the government in question was headed by Saddam Hussein. The designation continues to affect ordinary Kurdish citizens of Iraq who seek entry visas to the United States. To its credit, the Obama administration supports a Senate bill to remove the designation. The administration should ensure that the bill becomes law.

Still, these policies typify the US–Kurdish relationship. They explain how, when Kurdistan most needs US support, the Obama administration agrees in principle to sell Apache helicopters, Hellfire missiles, and surveillance drones to the central government. No wonder Kurdish Foreign Minister Falah Mustafa is perplexed by US foreign policy.

Given the opportunity, many KRG officials will speak at length about a one-sided relationship with the US. Many cite Prime Minister Nechervan Barzani’s vivid description of the situation as a “love triangle”—the Kurds love the US, but the US loves Baghdad. The Kurds still smart whenever the US seeks Kurdish support for a problem while declining to build a less one-sided relationship with the KRG.

Kurdistan’s still developing democracy urgently requires support, but US indifference has upset the Kurds and risks squandering an opportunity to foster the type of state the US should want to build in the region. Reversing the Baghdad-centric policies is just a start. The US could lend support on a host of issues: economic development, infrastructure improvement, educational advancement, academic partnerships, and private sector investment. Internally, and in their relationship with the Baghdad government, the Kurds face a slew of challenges. What better time, then, for the US to demonstrate its commitment to building democracy in the Middle East?
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