Information and liaison bulletin - Institut kurde de Paris

Revue de Presse-Press Review-Berhevoka Çapê-Rivista Stampa-Dentro de la Prensa-Basin Ôzeti
TORONTO STAR Kurdistan: a state of calm in Iraq
November 07. 2007
Semi-autonomous region serves as a showcase for U.S. Mideast hopes
OAKLAND ROSS MIDDLE EAST BUREAU
SHAQLAWA, Iraq-When people
from southern Iraq journey north to
a region called Iraqi Kurdistan, they
typically are in search of one precious
thing.
Just ask Muhamad Sinan, originally
from Baghdad, who now makes his
home in this semi-autonomous state -
a territory that is formally a part of
Iraq but in practice almost a country of
its own.
What is so different here?
Sinan replies at once.
"The safety."
The safety is right.
The 20-something computer engineer
is strolling with a friend along the main
street of Shaqlawa, a pastoral commu¬
nity tucked in a green valley between a
pair of tall mountain ridges, a 40-
minute drive north of Irbil, the admi¬
nistrative capital of Iraqi Kurdistan.
Irbil, in turn, is just a short drive from
either Kirkuk or Mosul, two especially
lethal points on the web of urban Iraq
where violence has become a way of
life, or death, much as it has done in
Baghdad itself.
But here in Shaqlawa, visitors might
almost think they were in a different
world, and in many ways they are.
Iraqi Kurdistan - population: about 5
million - is not a paradise on earth, but
it is a pocket of calm, relative prosperi¬
ty, and considerable civility in what is
perhaps the bloodiest-minded neigh¬
bourhood on the globe.
Fewer than half-a-dozen terrorist at¬
tacks have occurred in Iraqi Kurdistan
since the early 1990s.
In many ways, this largely peaceful
corner of the world's most war-ravaged
land seems not to be a part of Iraq at
all.
Consider:
Since 1991, when the United States
imposed a no-fly zone in northern Iraq
- preventing dictator Saddam Hussein
from attacking the Kurdish region with
warplanes - Iraqi Kurdistan has largely
governed itself.
Nowadays, the region has its own army
- the legendary Peshmerga, whose
name means "those who face death," a
fighting force reckoned to include at
least 100,000 men in arms or, by some
estimates, even more.
Iraqi Kurds also have their own flag,
their own president, their own corps of
international diplomats, their own lan¬
guage, their own TV channels and ra¬
dio stations.
They have 42 government ministries,
equally split between the two sides of a
two-party ruling coalition.
They have an international airport,
with direct flights to Frankfurt, Dubai,
Stockholm and Amman, among other
destinations.
In fact, about the only trappings of a
modern nation-state that Iraqi Kurdis¬
tan now lacks are a seat at the United
Nations and a currency of its own.
Still, most Iraqi Kurds will say that
they wish to remain a part of Iraq if
only because, at the moment, they
don't have much choice.
Press them a little harder, however,
and they will soon express a contradic¬
tory desire to someday be part of a
larger Kurdistan nation, one that would
also incorporate what are now parts of
Iran, Syria, and Turkey, home to mil¬
lions of ethnic Kurds.
But that is a far-off prospect and may
never be realized.
"A dream is one thing, and practical
matters are another," says Dalia Kaikhasraw,
managing director of the Uni¬
versity of Kurdistan.
Iraqi Kurdistan's foreign policy is no¬
thing if not practical, revolving around
just one central imperative - whole¬
hearted support for the United States
and for just about anything Washing¬
ton says or does.
"No American policy would be refused
in Iraqi Kurdistan," says Jawad Qadir,
executive editor of The Kurdish Globe,
a weekly English-language newspaper
published in Irbil. "The Kurdish public
are absolutely in favour of whatever
the U.S. decides is best."
If it were not for the United States,
which rescued Iraqi Kurdistan from
Saddam's genocidal fury in 1991 and
then overthrew the dictator four years
ago, it is likely that Iraqi Kurdistan
would not exist at all.
It certainly would not exist in its pre¬
sent form, a semi-autonomous region
with its own political authority - known
as the Kurdistan Regional Government,
or KRG, led by President Massoud Bar¬
zani - and its own bold development
plans for the future.
The territory also serves as a showcase
for U.S. aspirations in the Middle East,
the one jurisdiction where democracy,
capitalism, and peace all seem to work,
more or less.
"We're also important to the U.S." says
Kaikhasraw. "We back their policies in
the region.
Business is booming, with road cons¬
truction crews seemingly at work al¬
most everywhere, while new housing
developments and infrastructural pro¬
jects worth billions are either on the go
or on the drawing board.
Dozens of yellow construction cranes
tower above the low-rise skyline of
Irbil, a sprawling city set upon a largely
treeless plain beneath a sometimes
punishing sun.
With so much business activity, it is
not surprising that corruption and ne¬
potism have put down roots in Iraqi
Kurdistan.
"Corruption is a big problem," says
Qadir at The Kurdish Globe. "It has
been recognized by everyone in go¬
vernment. It is a big problem, but it is
not characteristic of Kurdish self-rule."
Like almost all newspapers here, The
Kurdish Globe is funded by politicians
of one stripe or another - in Qadir's
case, the government underwrites a
portion of his budget - but he insists
his staff still are granted some room
for critical reporting.
While far from true press freedom, this
is an improvement on the Middle Eas¬
tern norm.
Thanks to a law passed only last year,
journalists who do run afoul of Kurdish
authorities are protected from serving
jail sentences for what they write or
broadcast.
The government here insists it does
not imprison people for their political
views, and Qadir says he is inclined to
take the politicians at their word, albeit
cautiously.
"Young people feel political security,"
he said. "You can be against the
government, and you can feel sure you
will not end up in prison. I think this is
our biggest achievement."
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