The
dream merchants
They are Uncle Sam's brokers of democracy, peddling truth,
freedom and the American way in the far corners of Earth. It's not
always an easy sell, as Moscow correspondent GEOFFREY YORK learns
in Azerbaijan.
By
Geoffrey York
The Globe and Mail
Monday,
October 16, 2000
Peter
Van Praagh was just 28 when he was dispatched from Washington last
year to plant the seeds of democracy in the barren soil of Azerbaijan.
Like most Americans who have landed in this hot and dusty country
in its feverish oil-boom days, he knew little of its history or politics.
"I thought I was walking into a spy thriller," he recalled,
nursing an ice tea on an oppressively steamy night in Baku, the Azerbaijani
capital. "In fact, I was walking into a spy thriller. James Bond
was here."
Just
outside Baku, a film crew was shooting the exotic locales for the
latest James Bond flick. Hollywood needed a landscape of murky foreign
intrigue, and this former Soviet republic on the Caspian Sea is a
perfect choice.
Azerbaijan,
an inscrutable hybrid of Asian and Soviet cultures, has attracted
hordes of foreign investors and diplomats with its vast oil riches
and strategic location at the crossroads of Russia, the West, Asia
and the Middle East.
The Americans,
however, are different. They do want to exploit the energy wealth,
to roll back Russian influence and to create a stable new source of
oil for U.S. industry, but it's more than that. They want to create
a new society.
To do
this, U.S. advisers such as Mr. Van Praagh must become embroiled in
their own Bond-style intrigues of pulling strings, plotting backroom
coalitions and jousting with old-guard autocrats who threaten to lead
Azerbaijan back into Moscow's embrace.
Mr. Van
Praagh, now 30, is an intense and boyish crusader for the virtues
of democracy. One of his friends has nicknamed him "the Quiet
American" -- an allusion to the idealistic hero of Graham Greene's
novel of Vietnam, an earnest and guileless secret agent who was "impregnably
armoured by his good intentions."
He arrived
in Baku last year as director of the local office of the National
Democratic Institute, a U.S.-funded agency that promotes the development
of Western-style political parties and pluralism.
Despite
his youth and lack of local experience, he has quickly become a star
in Azerbaijan's political constellation. He is quoted in the local
media, ushered into meetings with the President's top advisers and
besieged with desperate pleas for help from opposition parties. He
enjoys an extraordinary degree of access to the top levels of Azerbaijan's
hierarchy.
After
almost two years toiling in Baku's political backrooms, he admits
that the reform process has been agonizingly slow. Azerbaijan remains
an authoritarian state, where elections are often rigged or controlled
by an all-powerful regime. Yet he still fervently believes in his
mission -- and in the uniqueness of the U.S. role.
"Americans
care about this whole democracy thing, far more than the Europeans
or Canadians," he says. "America really does want to do
good. No other country is strong enough to say it and do it. Only
the United States has the muscle to do it.
"What
I tell the Azeris is, 'Friendship has its privileges, and if you want
to be America's friend, you gotta do a few things.' "
The mere
presence of U.S. advisers in Baku's corridors of power is a sign of
Washington's diplomatic reach, of how its influence has spread into
the remotest corners of what was once, in Cold War terminology, the
"evil empire."
The United
States is not the only country working to entrench democracy around
the world -- European nations and Canada are heavily involved in similar
programs. But the U.S. efforts are unique in their stark, black-and-white
vision of a heroic struggle against evil.
The National
Democratic Institute calls it "an indispensible American mission."
Its Republican counterpart, the International Republican Institute,
defines the enemy as "tyranny and totalitarianism."
This
evangelical zeal, combined with Washington's vast resources, helps
to project U.S. diplomatic power into every corner of the globe. For
example, over the past 16 years, NDI has conducted democracy programs
in more than 90 countries, using a pool of more than 1,000 volunteer
experts including presidents, prime ministers and cabinet ministers.
Both
NDI and IRI have field offices in dozens of countries on four continents.
Working closely with celebrity activists such as former U.S. president
Jimmy Carter, they have trained thousands of election observers, supported
hundreds of civic organizations, bolstered political parties, improved
election laws and conducted civic education campaigns for millions
of voters around the world.
In Baku,
the games of power and intrigue were dominated a decade ago by a more
cynical breed: the Russian apparatchik. Azerbaijan was a colony of
Russian and Soviet empires for almost 200 years, and many Russians
believe that it should still be the Kremlin's obedient satellite today.
Just three hours south of Moscow by plane, Baku is a city of Soviet-trained
bureaucrats who speak Russian and borrow Russian philosophies of politics
and power.
But today,
it is the Americans who buzz importantly around this city, more confidently
than almost anyone else. They dine on shrimp at the Louisiana-style
seafood joint. They go bowling and go-karting. They drive their four-wheel-drive
vehicles into the mountains on weekends. And they struggle to penetrate
the impenetrable politics, to import American ideas and implant an
American-style democracy in a long-hostile land.
Most
of the U.S. advisers here are energetic young activists who work together
in an informal alliance, each chipping away at different corners of
Azerbaijan's authoritarian traditions.
On a
typical evening, you can find them on the patio of Fisherman's Wharf,
the favourite restaurant and social hangout of Baku's expatriates.
The music of B.B. King and the Everly Brothers drifts through the
air. A U.S. football game is blaring on television, while a bodyguard
with a buzz cut and an earpiece keeps careful watch over a U.S. diplomat.
On the patio, the Americans are co-ordinating strategy, discussing
Azerbaijan's parliamentary election next month and how to make it
democratic.
"We're
trying to give the people a voice," says John Boit, a 28-year-old
journalist from Maine who heads the Azerbaijani office of Internews,
a U.S.-funded organization that provides support to independent television
stations.
On
a shelf above his office desk is an expensive bottle of Irish whisky,
bequeathed to him by his predecessor, who told him he cannot open
it until the government has granted a licence to one of the independent
TV stations that struggle to survive without an official permit.
"I
don't know if I'll ever get to drink that whisky," he says. "We
beat our heads against the wall when the government doesn't want to
license a station. Sometimes I wonder what this is all for. But at
least someone is putting pressure on the government. Without it, there
would be no incentive to change anything."
Elsie
Chang, a 39-year-old former Capitol Hill political consultant and
fundraiser, is director of the Azerbaijani office of the International
Foundation for Election Systems, a U.S.-financed group that provides
voter education and legal advice on election laws.
"I
want to introduce the idea of elected officials as public servants,"
she says. "This is a very new idea here. If there's any American
twist to our policy here, it's that the officials should be accountable
to the people who elected them."
At training
seminars, she asks the Azeris to play a "democracy game"
by choosing an item in the conference room that reminds them of democracy.
The Azeris point to the room's open door, to its light switches and
its windows: symbols of freedom and light.
For the
Americans, progress here is often almost imperceptible. They are fighting
a culture of authoritarianism and paternalism that has ruled for centuries.
But they
have succeeded in nudging Azerbaijan away from Moscow's orbit. They
have helped to entrench a system of elections at the local and national
levels, even if the campaigns are not exactly models of fairness.
They have trained thousands of election observers and have bolstered
Azerbaijan's independent media and opposition parties.
The Americans
have strengths that other foreigners lack. They spend money lavishly.
They cultivate powerful friends in high places. And they create their
own networks of grassroots organizations, sometimes using what they
call the Spice Girls method: handpicking a few key local personalities,
training them and funnelling them a regular supply of money.
"We
pick them up by the scruff of the neck and show them how to do this
stuff," one U.S. adviser confides. "We create them."
Democracy
is not the only U.S. strategic goal in Azerbaijan. Some analysts believe
that Washington is equally interested in less altruistic goals: economic
stability, oil supply and the geopolitical aim of containing Russian
and Iranian influence.
Azerbaijan
is a Shia Muslim country, like its neighbour Iran, yet it is ethnically
Turkic and largely secular. (Vodka is popular here, and young women
prefer miniskirts and bare midriffs.)
For U.S.
strategists, it is a crucial buffer state. While blocking the expansion
of Islamic influences from the south, it can also stop the spread
of Russian imperial ambitions from the north.
Most
of its eight million people are poor, with monthly incomes of less
than $100 (U.S.). Its population includes a million refugees from
the war with Armenia in the early 1990s. Another one million Azeris
have migrated abroad in search of better economic prospects.
Yet its
oil reserves -- as much as 20 billion barrels -- are potentially a
vital source of supply for the United States. Western oil companies
have signed contracts worth more than $50-billion (U.S.) in potential
investment here.
Dick
Cheney, the Republican vice-presidential candidate, is among the many
influential Americans who have held significant business interests
in Azerbaijan's oil industry.
The country's
autocratic President, former KGB general Haydar Aliyev, is a frequent
visitor to Washington, where he has been honoured with the red-carpet
treatment from the White House. He regularly meets U.S. President
Bill Clinton and is wined and dined by powerful Washington lobbyists.
At home,
Mr. Aliyev shows little sign of having absorbed any American democratic
influences. Instead, he has established a cult of personality. His
portrait is displayed in every shop and office, and his quotations
are painted on billboards all over the country.
For idealistic
outsiders, Azerbaijan can be a snake pit of confusion. "Identifying
the democrats here is very difficult," Mr. Van Praagh admits.
"The good guys are not always the good guys. And even the good
guys can get tempted and corrupted."
Mr. Van
Praagh has his own small secret: He has dual citizenship in the United
States and Canada and spent years as a speechwriter and policy adviser
to the federal Progressive Conservatives in the late 1990s.
The Azeris
are unaware of his Canadian connections. Because of his institute's
links to the U.S. Democratic Party, the Azerbaijani government is
convinced he is the personal representative of Mr. Clinton. While
this is not quite true, his institute does not always discourage the
notion.
Washington
is spending $21-million (U.S.) on aid projects in Azerbaijan this
year. The budget would be bigger if the U.S. Congress had not imposed
limits on the aid because of the military conflict between Azerbaijan
and Armenia. But even this amount can have a big impact in a country
where most people are impoverished.
"We've
nudged them in the direction they'd like to go in," says William
McKinney, co-ordinator of the Azerbaijani office of the U.S. Agency
for International Development, which funds aid projects.
Mr. McKinney,
a flashy dresser who wears red suspenders and cuff links that read
"Yes" and "No," says the United States can take
credit for much of the progress in Azerbaijan in recent years, including
the greater role of opposition parties, the appointment of a new chairman
of the national electoral commission and the Western outlook of the
country's younger generation.
"Younger
Azeris are fascinated by the United States," he says. "They
line up in the hundreds for visas. When they go the U.S., they come
back in awe of what they've seen -- and not just the supermarkets
and consumerism, but also our values and rights."
The U.S.
embassy in Baku tries to fuel this enthusiasm with parties for the
locals every July 4 and on U.S. election days, often featuring gigantic
cakes, military bands and hot dogs and ice cream.
"A
good July 4 party should be hokey and corny," says James Seward,
head of the embassy's public-diplomacy section. ". . . It's our
traditional folk dance. More than in other countries, our culture
is tied up with our politics. Our politics is our culture."
Over
his career, Mr. Seward has heard all the arguments about cultural
imperialism and U.S. arrogance, but he makes no apologies for the
American tendency to lecture foreigners on democracy. "This is
what we are and what we do. We're trying to express our values to
other people."
The NDI
and IRI are two of the most aggressive U.S. groups here and receive
their funds from the National Endowment for Democracy. Set up by the
U.S. Congress in 1984, the endowment is financed by money that previously
went to the covert anti-Communist political operations of the Central
Intelligence Agency.
The NDI
headquarters is housed in the decaying glory of a former oil merchant's
Moorish-style mansion on the edge of Baku's old town. On one side
of the mansion is Azerbaijan's ancient past, symbolized by the mysterious
12th-century Maiden's Tower of the Islamic khans. On the other is
the Caspian Sea, the heart of the modern oil industry.
The institute's
values, however, are straight from American mythology. Quotations
from Thomas Jefferson and John F. Kennedy are sprinkled through its
publications. "We are pointing the way to struggling nations
who wish, like us, to emerge from their tyrannies," intones a
Jefferson quotation on its Web site.
This
kind of rhetoric is taken very seriously here. Despite decades of
Soviet propaganda, the United States is still regarded by many Azeris
as the world's greatest beacon of freedom and democracy.
"When
I first got here, I was amazed at how people here look to America
as an inspiration," Mr. Van Praagh says. "I've been to poor
regions of this country where the people have nothing, but they give
me a huge feast because they're so happy to have an American in their
midst."
Novella
Jafarova, leader of an NDI-supported women's rights group, is a long-time
fan of U.S. presidents from John F. Kennedy to Ronald Reagan. She
is convinced that a 1993 letter of support from first lady Hillary
Rodham Clinton has protected her from arrest by Azerbaijan's heavy-handed
police. She brandishes the letter like a magical talisman.
"When
the police come, we show them the letter from Hillary Clinton and
they always leave," she says. "Mrs. Clinton's letter is
a shield for us. For the police, America is a symbol of power and
justice. They are probably afraid that America could do something
to them."
One of
Mr. Aliyev's top foreign-affairs advisers, Rauf Huseynov, is a young
Harvard-trained official with a love for all things American. In his
office cabinet is an election campaign button with a picture of the
Statue of Liberty and an inscription reading: "Save the American
Dream. Vote Ross Perot 1996." Nearby is a coffee-table book commemorating
one of Mr. Aliyev's visits to the United States, with a cover photo
of the President meeting Mr. Clinton.
"We
are simply destined to be the friend of the United States," Mr.
Huseynov says. "We will love them, even if they don't love us.
They are the only way we can preserve our independence."
While
he welcomes the presence of American groups such as NDI, he often
disagrees with their advice. "They go too far," he says.
"Sometimes they interfere too much. We got rid of the Kremlin,
and we don't want the U.S. State Department to become another Big
Brother."
Washington
does, in fact, get involved more aggressively in Azerbaijan than it
would dare to do in a bigger country such as Russia. This sometimes
triggers an anti-American backlash among high-ranking Azerbaijani
officials who resent the outside pressure.
The backlash
was visible this summer when the U.S. advisers were repeatedly thwarted
in their efforts to improve Azerbaijan's regressive election laws.
They lobbied fiercely to revise the laws, but only one amendment passed.
In defiance
of the U.S. lobbying, the Azerbaijani authorities decided to ban several
of the biggest opposition parties from next month's parliamentary
election. And then, for good measure, they barred thousands of Azerbaijani
election observers who had been trained by an NDI-financed organization.
(The ban on the opposition parties was later reversed.)
The Americans
vow to fight on. For them, the struggle of good against evil has never
ended. "What we believe in is essentially good," Mr. Van
Praagh says, without embarrassment or diffidence.
"Some
values are universal, and democracy is one of them. It's good work,
and someone's got to do it.
"I
think the Americans have a greater sense of public service than others
do." By the numbers the influence of the United States stretches
far and wide. For example, it is the world's biggest source of development
aid. In 1998, U.S. assistance -- from both private and official sources
-- to developing countries and multilateral organizations totalled
$48.2-billion.
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