tribune
05-31-2002, 02:31 PM
New U.S. Allies, the Uzbeks: Mired in the Past
By EDMUND L. ANDREWS
ASHKENT, Uzbekistan — Two years ago, Poul Jahn employed 140 people as an importer of products like candy from Germany and Legos from Denmark.
Today, he is all but out of business, because the government stopped allowing him to convert his sales revenue from Uzbek som into dollars.
His difficulties are just one example of how hard it is to foster economic or other development in Uzbekistan and other Central Asian states that have become the newest United States allies because of their proximity to Afghanistan and the usefulness of their bases to American troops.
Under President Islam Karimov, a Soviet-era ruler here who has just extended his term until 2007, Uzbekistan has displayed little appetite for either democracy or open markets. Political repression is intense, corruption is widespread and economic policy owes more to Stalin than George W. Bush.
American leaders are eager to pump economic and military aid into Central Asian states, but the sort of bureaucratic thicket and isolationism encountered by Mr. Jahn makes it difficult to see how the World Bank will dispense the $1 billion earmarked for the region over the next three years.
Yet without economic reform to improve the prospects for people here, the attraction of radical Islamic movements to the poor and disaffected may continue to grow. Mr. Karimov has used the existence of such movements as the pretext for an often brutal clampdown on any expression of Islam, jailing thousands of people in sweeps across the country that have been repeatedly criticized by rights groups.
Every economy in Central Asia is smaller today than it was before the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1990. Poverty is intense, with average annual income of about $610 here and less than half that in neighboring Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan.
Although leaders like President Karimov have vowed to support economic and administrative reform, the progress is at best uneven.
"Leaders are finding that they are getting a very different reception now than they got on Sept. 10," said James D. Wolfensohn, president of the World Bank, who himself made his first trip to the region only after the Sept. 11 terror attacks transformed the geopolitical realities of formerly forgotten Central Asia.
But, Mr. Wolfensohn added, "If they are going to take advantage of this opportunity for funds and support, then change will be necessary."
Uzbekistan illustrates how hard that change will be. Despite heavy pressure from the International Monetary Fund, it has yet to abandon its currency restrictions. Policy often seems to be set mainly to buttress Mr. Karimov's hold on power.
Meanwhile, a crazy quilt of new borders has disrupted trade and routine travel throughout the region.
Many people are trapped in enclaves, a few square miles of Uzbek or Tajik territory surrounded by Kyrgyzstan. Traders who once roamed freely across borders now need to wait in long lines, show visas and often pay bribes.
"People are trapped," said Natalia Ablova, director of the Bureau on Human Rights and Rule of Law, in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan. "They cannot travel, cannot trade, cannot create business. Just travel through the region, and you will see the intolerable conditions that each country has created for its own citizens."
Uzbekistan is hardly alone. Turkmenistan, which has big oil and gas reserves, has become so autocratic and isolated that World Bank officials have all but stopped offering aid.
Tajikistan, ravaged by civil war through much of the 1990's, remains plagued by organized crime, heroin smuggling and violence. Few foreign companies venture to do business there, and the average yearly income is only about $200.
The new isolationism has greatly increased tensions throughout Central Asia. Uzbekistan is critically short of water, and constantly accuses Kyrgyzstan of hoarding it upstream. Kyrgyzstan says it needs to store water for hydroelectric power, because its neighbors will not supply it with enough electricity.
"You have this shadow play going on between leaders, whether it is about problems in the Aral Sea or about trade," Mr. Wolfensohn said.
The difficulties become abundantly clear on a trip through the Fergana Valley, a region that is just 200 miles long but is home to 10 million people and a big share of Central Asia's industry and agriculture.
A one-hour trip between the Kyrgyz cities of Osh, an ancient trading post, and Jalalabad now takes four hours — the main road cuts through Uzbek territory, and side roads are winding and small.
The enclave of Sokh, claimed by Uzbekistan but surrounded by Kyrgyz territory, is virtually fenced off from the outside world. Uzbek leaders argue that strong borders are essential to preventing attacks by militant Islamic groups, notably the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan, which has roots in the Fergana Valley and launched several attacks from Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan in 1999 and 2000.
By EDMUND L. ANDREWS
ASHKENT, Uzbekistan — Two years ago, Poul Jahn employed 140 people as an importer of products like candy from Germany and Legos from Denmark.
Today, he is all but out of business, because the government stopped allowing him to convert his sales revenue from Uzbek som into dollars.
His difficulties are just one example of how hard it is to foster economic or other development in Uzbekistan and other Central Asian states that have become the newest United States allies because of their proximity to Afghanistan and the usefulness of their bases to American troops.
Under President Islam Karimov, a Soviet-era ruler here who has just extended his term until 2007, Uzbekistan has displayed little appetite for either democracy or open markets. Political repression is intense, corruption is widespread and economic policy owes more to Stalin than George W. Bush.
American leaders are eager to pump economic and military aid into Central Asian states, but the sort of bureaucratic thicket and isolationism encountered by Mr. Jahn makes it difficult to see how the World Bank will dispense the $1 billion earmarked for the region over the next three years.
Yet without economic reform to improve the prospects for people here, the attraction of radical Islamic movements to the poor and disaffected may continue to grow. Mr. Karimov has used the existence of such movements as the pretext for an often brutal clampdown on any expression of Islam, jailing thousands of people in sweeps across the country that have been repeatedly criticized by rights groups.
Every economy in Central Asia is smaller today than it was before the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1990. Poverty is intense, with average annual income of about $610 here and less than half that in neighboring Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan.
Although leaders like President Karimov have vowed to support economic and administrative reform, the progress is at best uneven.
"Leaders are finding that they are getting a very different reception now than they got on Sept. 10," said James D. Wolfensohn, president of the World Bank, who himself made his first trip to the region only after the Sept. 11 terror attacks transformed the geopolitical realities of formerly forgotten Central Asia.
But, Mr. Wolfensohn added, "If they are going to take advantage of this opportunity for funds and support, then change will be necessary."
Uzbekistan illustrates how hard that change will be. Despite heavy pressure from the International Monetary Fund, it has yet to abandon its currency restrictions. Policy often seems to be set mainly to buttress Mr. Karimov's hold on power.
Meanwhile, a crazy quilt of new borders has disrupted trade and routine travel throughout the region.
Many people are trapped in enclaves, a few square miles of Uzbek or Tajik territory surrounded by Kyrgyzstan. Traders who once roamed freely across borders now need to wait in long lines, show visas and often pay bribes.
"People are trapped," said Natalia Ablova, director of the Bureau on Human Rights and Rule of Law, in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan. "They cannot travel, cannot trade, cannot create business. Just travel through the region, and you will see the intolerable conditions that each country has created for its own citizens."
Uzbekistan is hardly alone. Turkmenistan, which has big oil and gas reserves, has become so autocratic and isolated that World Bank officials have all but stopped offering aid.
Tajikistan, ravaged by civil war through much of the 1990's, remains plagued by organized crime, heroin smuggling and violence. Few foreign companies venture to do business there, and the average yearly income is only about $200.
The new isolationism has greatly increased tensions throughout Central Asia. Uzbekistan is critically short of water, and constantly accuses Kyrgyzstan of hoarding it upstream. Kyrgyzstan says it needs to store water for hydroelectric power, because its neighbors will not supply it with enough electricity.
"You have this shadow play going on between leaders, whether it is about problems in the Aral Sea or about trade," Mr. Wolfensohn said.
The difficulties become abundantly clear on a trip through the Fergana Valley, a region that is just 200 miles long but is home to 10 million people and a big share of Central Asia's industry and agriculture.
A one-hour trip between the Kyrgyz cities of Osh, an ancient trading post, and Jalalabad now takes four hours — the main road cuts through Uzbek territory, and side roads are winding and small.
The enclave of Sokh, claimed by Uzbekistan but surrounded by Kyrgyz territory, is virtually fenced off from the outside world. Uzbek leaders argue that strong borders are essential to preventing attacks by militant Islamic groups, notably the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan, which has roots in the Fergana Valley and launched several attacks from Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan in 1999 and 2000.