Fwd: how US imperialism does it these days (one way, at least)

[Jim Devine <jdevine@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx>]

[forwarded from Mike Lebowitz]

The Globe and Mail, Monday, October 16, 2000

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

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."

Jim Devine jdevine@xxxxxxx &  http://bellarmine.lmu.edu/~jdevine