Post by Bozur on Nov 24, 2005 0:08:35 GMT -5
Letter From Azerbaijan
Soviet Leftovers, Where Statecraft Is Stagecraft
By C.J. CHIVERS
Published: November 16, 2005
BAKU, Azerbaijan, Nov. 12 - Two years ago, when the government of Georgia collapsed during street protests against a tainted election, its fall energized pockets of revolutionary sentiment against the autocratic rulers who dominate the former Soviet Union. Then Ukraine fell amid similar outrage. And then Kyrgyzstan.
Joseph Sywenkyj/Redux, for The New York Times
Four days after the election, a rally in Baku, supporting the government. The rally was well staged; so was the election.
Sergei Karpukhin/Reuters
A protest mounted by the opposition on Nov. 9 called on the president to step down.
Now an inevitable reaction has taken shape. Behold the counterrevolution, a machination of the state.
Faced with emboldened opposition parties and Western organizations and governments that have made democratic values a foreign policy theme, several post-Soviet governments are rigging the vote almost as surely as ever, mixing old electoral tricks with a nod to public relations, while coolly smothering their own domestic oppositions at birth.
"Managed democracy" has long been the descriptive pejorative for the autocrats' brand of post-Communist political liberalization. And when managed democracy meets an election, it is a democracy that feels not like a domestic policy, but a foreign policy served for Western consumption.
So it was last year in presidential elections in Russia and in the republic of Chechnya, as well as in the opposition-free parliamentary elections in Uzbekistan. And now so it is in Azerbaijan, a corrupt oil state on the Caspian Sea.
The model consists of distinct parts: publicly embrace democracy at the top, while the government proper sticks to pinpointed repression and electoral crime. Win elections overwhelmingly. Then apologize if necessary, a little bit, and as quietly as possible. Repeat pledges about the values of democracy.
Such is the case in Baku. The Azeri government emerged from Communism seeking closer relations with the West. But as its leaders have grown fabulously rich they have clung to a strongman model, building power around a few families and clans, securing police loyalty, maintaining a state television network almost bereft of candor and honesty, and resisting political pluralism.
This system's tenacity was evident on Nov. 7, when an international mission declared that the parliamentary elections failed to meet democratic standards, as has every election here since the ruling Aliyev family came to power in 1993.
Diplomats and observers vented disappointment. After all, President Ilham Aliyev spent half the year publicly insisting that this time there would be a free and fair vote.
Under Western prodding, Mr. Aliyev - himself elected in a fraud-tainted vote as his father left office shortly before his death in 2003 - issued a decree in May ordering electoral reforms. The decree pledged, among other things, more open candidate registration, freedom of assembly and an end to using state power to help chosen candidates win.
There was scant chance that the proclamation could come true. Elements of Mr. Aliyev's government became at least as illegal or as brutal as they needed to be, taking multiple steps to ensure the elections followed a pro-government course and that the opposition could not muster widespread support.
The opposition youth group, an element vital in demonstrations in Georgia and Ukraine, was harried into near irrelevance by the police. Opposition ranks suffered arrests. Opposition rallies were limited to where the government wanted them, with no access to the central square.
When the opposition appeared at unauthorized times, its marchers were beaten by the police with clubs, and then accused - without publicly produced evidence - of throwing stones. The violence appeared to contain the opposition's growth.
"Let's be realistic here," one Western diplomat said. "There is a limited number of people who want to go out and risk having their heads beaten."
The media coverage favored the state, and election commissions were stacked with pro-government members.
As election day drew near, the opposition and independent observers reported that entire villages were told that they would lose utilities if they did not elect the candidate the government desired. Potentially victorious candidates were quietly forced to withdraw from races by the score, even hundreds, the opposition says.
The last gap between the president's words and his government's actions was clear on election day, Nov. 6, which was accompanied by reports of vote-stuffing, vote-buying, inaccurate voting lists, voter intimidation and more.
Even this was not enough. Observers and journalists watched as government officials panicked in several precincts as vote counts favored opposition candidates. Rather than certify the results, some officials fled with ballots. Others called for the police, who arrived, seized votes and carried them off.
By this time the state had prevented at least three foreign television news crews from bringing satellite equipment into the country, ensuring that neither the most egregious violations nor any opposition rallies could readily be broadcast live.
In the morning, candidates loyal to Mr. Aliyev were victorious. The message was clear. The chosen candidate will win.
The results serve not as a milestone of Westernization but as a study in how to rig a post-Soviet vote and manage the fallout. The opposition has 10 of 125 seats, according to the election commission. A heavy majority went to the ruling party and its allies.
Mr. Aliyev's government, stung by exposure of some its worst actions, has recounted or annulled the results of a handful of races, and has said it is investigating more complaints. A few officials have been fired. But the domestic position has been unashamedly upbeat.
"As a whole, the election process before the election and on the day of election was successful, and I think Azerbaijan had normal and democratic elections," Mr. Aliyev said on state television on Nov. 7, hours after the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe, or O.S.C.E., the principal observer mission, concluded otherwise.
Moreover, Azerbaijan has thus far kept the public dialogue narrow, with the concessions to date dealing with misconduct on Nov. 6, while the O.S.C.E. and other organizations that observed the entire campaign reported abuses spanning months.
This larger universe of machinations has as yet not been publicly addressed. Rather, the state has referred to friendly accounts of the elections from observers it commissioned, or from states that employ similar tactics, including Russia.
And it is working toward getting whatever lines it can inserted into the European group's final report, a format that, in controlled language, dutifully notes any improvements a state makes, like allowing more candidates to register.
The most enthusiastic opposition members still speak of peaceful revolt. But the duet is familiar.
The election was stolen, they say, the revolution starts soon.
The state's answer comes back: There will be no revolution. We've made sure of that.
This, after all, is a step forward.
Soviet Leftovers, Where Statecraft Is Stagecraft
By C.J. CHIVERS
Published: November 16, 2005
BAKU, Azerbaijan, Nov. 12 - Two years ago, when the government of Georgia collapsed during street protests against a tainted election, its fall energized pockets of revolutionary sentiment against the autocratic rulers who dominate the former Soviet Union. Then Ukraine fell amid similar outrage. And then Kyrgyzstan.
Joseph Sywenkyj/Redux, for The New York Times
Four days after the election, a rally in Baku, supporting the government. The rally was well staged; so was the election.
Sergei Karpukhin/Reuters
A protest mounted by the opposition on Nov. 9 called on the president to step down.
Now an inevitable reaction has taken shape. Behold the counterrevolution, a machination of the state.
Faced with emboldened opposition parties and Western organizations and governments that have made democratic values a foreign policy theme, several post-Soviet governments are rigging the vote almost as surely as ever, mixing old electoral tricks with a nod to public relations, while coolly smothering their own domestic oppositions at birth.
"Managed democracy" has long been the descriptive pejorative for the autocrats' brand of post-Communist political liberalization. And when managed democracy meets an election, it is a democracy that feels not like a domestic policy, but a foreign policy served for Western consumption.
So it was last year in presidential elections in Russia and in the republic of Chechnya, as well as in the opposition-free parliamentary elections in Uzbekistan. And now so it is in Azerbaijan, a corrupt oil state on the Caspian Sea.
The model consists of distinct parts: publicly embrace democracy at the top, while the government proper sticks to pinpointed repression and electoral crime. Win elections overwhelmingly. Then apologize if necessary, a little bit, and as quietly as possible. Repeat pledges about the values of democracy.
Such is the case in Baku. The Azeri government emerged from Communism seeking closer relations with the West. But as its leaders have grown fabulously rich they have clung to a strongman model, building power around a few families and clans, securing police loyalty, maintaining a state television network almost bereft of candor and honesty, and resisting political pluralism.
This system's tenacity was evident on Nov. 7, when an international mission declared that the parliamentary elections failed to meet democratic standards, as has every election here since the ruling Aliyev family came to power in 1993.
Diplomats and observers vented disappointment. After all, President Ilham Aliyev spent half the year publicly insisting that this time there would be a free and fair vote.
Under Western prodding, Mr. Aliyev - himself elected in a fraud-tainted vote as his father left office shortly before his death in 2003 - issued a decree in May ordering electoral reforms. The decree pledged, among other things, more open candidate registration, freedom of assembly and an end to using state power to help chosen candidates win.
There was scant chance that the proclamation could come true. Elements of Mr. Aliyev's government became at least as illegal or as brutal as they needed to be, taking multiple steps to ensure the elections followed a pro-government course and that the opposition could not muster widespread support.
The opposition youth group, an element vital in demonstrations in Georgia and Ukraine, was harried into near irrelevance by the police. Opposition ranks suffered arrests. Opposition rallies were limited to where the government wanted them, with no access to the central square.
When the opposition appeared at unauthorized times, its marchers were beaten by the police with clubs, and then accused - without publicly produced evidence - of throwing stones. The violence appeared to contain the opposition's growth.
"Let's be realistic here," one Western diplomat said. "There is a limited number of people who want to go out and risk having their heads beaten."
The media coverage favored the state, and election commissions were stacked with pro-government members.
As election day drew near, the opposition and independent observers reported that entire villages were told that they would lose utilities if they did not elect the candidate the government desired. Potentially victorious candidates were quietly forced to withdraw from races by the score, even hundreds, the opposition says.
The last gap between the president's words and his government's actions was clear on election day, Nov. 6, which was accompanied by reports of vote-stuffing, vote-buying, inaccurate voting lists, voter intimidation and more.
Even this was not enough. Observers and journalists watched as government officials panicked in several precincts as vote counts favored opposition candidates. Rather than certify the results, some officials fled with ballots. Others called for the police, who arrived, seized votes and carried them off.
By this time the state had prevented at least three foreign television news crews from bringing satellite equipment into the country, ensuring that neither the most egregious violations nor any opposition rallies could readily be broadcast live.
In the morning, candidates loyal to Mr. Aliyev were victorious. The message was clear. The chosen candidate will win.
The results serve not as a milestone of Westernization but as a study in how to rig a post-Soviet vote and manage the fallout. The opposition has 10 of 125 seats, according to the election commission. A heavy majority went to the ruling party and its allies.
Mr. Aliyev's government, stung by exposure of some its worst actions, has recounted or annulled the results of a handful of races, and has said it is investigating more complaints. A few officials have been fired. But the domestic position has been unashamedly upbeat.
"As a whole, the election process before the election and on the day of election was successful, and I think Azerbaijan had normal and democratic elections," Mr. Aliyev said on state television on Nov. 7, hours after the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe, or O.S.C.E., the principal observer mission, concluded otherwise.
Moreover, Azerbaijan has thus far kept the public dialogue narrow, with the concessions to date dealing with misconduct on Nov. 6, while the O.S.C.E. and other organizations that observed the entire campaign reported abuses spanning months.
This larger universe of machinations has as yet not been publicly addressed. Rather, the state has referred to friendly accounts of the elections from observers it commissioned, or from states that employ similar tactics, including Russia.
And it is working toward getting whatever lines it can inserted into the European group's final report, a format that, in controlled language, dutifully notes any improvements a state makes, like allowing more candidates to register.
The most enthusiastic opposition members still speak of peaceful revolt. But the duet is familiar.
The election was stolen, they say, the revolution starts soon.
The state's answer comes back: There will be no revolution. We've made sure of that.
This, after all, is a step forward.