September 01, 2005
The Uzbekistan blog! - Preview of a book the UK government would like to ban
Unfortunately I cannot be at a terminal on 1 September. I have already posted my call for sanctions on Uzbek cotton here, and addressed possible criticisms here.

However to contribute to this day of blogging on Uzbekistan, and for one day only – this will be removed tomorrow – I make available Chapter 10 of my book, which I think makes plain why the British government is trying to ban its publication.

I retain full copyright in this which must not be used for commercial purposes.

Craig Murray


Chapter 10 – Diplomacy

Strictly speaking, you are not an Ambassador until you have presented your letters of credence, or credentials. These are two letters from your own head of state. One recalls your predecessor as Ambassador, and the second appoints you. You have to deliver these in person to the Head of State of the country to which you have been appointed.

I only had to wait about a week before I was called to do this. President Karimov was receiving me and the new Israeli, Japanese and South Korean Ambassadors, one after the other. I went with Karen to support me and make sure we didn’t lose the letters. An official Uzbek government car arrived to collect me – I don’t know if my Note had any effect, but it was timed so I wasn’t kept waiting at all. In keeping with tradition the car did not fly a flag on the way there, but had a union jack on the way back as I was now “official”. The Uzbeks had evidently made their own union jack. It looked wrong, and on inspection the Uzbeks had failed to note that the red diagonals on the union Jack are not centred in the white diagonals.

I had decided to perform this ceremony in my kilt and full highland dress, partly as a proud expression of nationality, and partly to make plain that I shouldn’t be mistaken for one of the dull crowd of Ambassadors. I had also asked London if I could say something on human rights in addition to the script on standing shoulder to shoulder against terrorism and the value we placed on commercial and educational relationships. The FCO had surprised me by replying immediately with a couple of pretty strong sentences on the need for Uzbekistan to improve its human rights record.

The reception was held at the Presidential offices in central Tashkent – the President lived in a Palace outside the city at Durmen and drove in a huge convoy to work every morning, causing massive road closures and disruption. I was shown through to a vast marbled hall. In the glare of television lights I walked up to Karimov, Karen two paces behind me. We shook hands, Karen handed me the letters, I handed them to Karimov, he then led me through to a side room. There were five Louis XIV chairs for Karimov, his foreign minister Komilov, an interpreter, Karen and I. The doors were closed, blotting out the TV cameras, and we sat down to talk.

Karimov was about 5 foot seven inches, but muscular with a short, broad neck and a thick jowled face. His oriental eyes were deep-set and his skin sallow. His nose was small and wide, his mouth narrow and thin. He moved easily and seemed very assured. His eyes were less dark than his skin colour would suggest, and bright with a shrewd intelligence. He had played for twenty years at the top level of a power politics where, if you lost, you died, and had ruthlessly eliminated large numbers of people who had crossed him. He wasn’t going to be fazed simply by my putting on a kilt.

“I am delighted to see you, Mr Ambassador”, he said, through his interpreter. Interestingly, he was speaking Russian rather than his official language, Uzbek. “I have always had the greatest admiration for the wisdom of the United Kingdom. You have had many generations to develop that wisdom.”
Subtext: don’t expect any rapid change towards democracy here

He continued: “One great example of the wisdom of your government, on which I must congratulate you, is that you have just made a derogation from the European Convention on Human Rights to enable terrorist suspects to be detained in the United Kingdom without trial.”
Subtext: don’t you lecture me on human rights, people who live in glass houses

“The greatest misfortune in the history of the Uzbek people, is what happened in what you call the Great Game. Unfortunately the British were never able to make any progress towards Central Asia, and their efforts to do so met with some very great historic defeats.”
Subtext: your country doesn’t really cut that much ice around here

“It would have been infinitely better for our people if they had been conquered by the British and not by the Russians. Our whole history of development, and especially economic development, would have been different. As it is, of course, we know only the central planning system. You must realise we are a hundred years behind.”
Subtext: don’t expect any rapid changes towards capitalism

Of course, the danger of militant Islam is a threat to the very existence of Western civilisation. For a decade we Uzbeks stood alone to defend the West against Islam. When the allies came to fight the Taliban, it was late. We are still the frontline against Islam. We were vital to the allied effort against the Taliban. We are a poor country and this cost us a lot of resources. It is natural that we should anticipate that, just as our geo-strategic position was essential for operations against the Taliban, so it will be also essential for operations to reconstruct Afghanistan. Uzbek companies should be fully employed in this work. We are also the frontline of defence for the West against the flow of narcotics. This too is very expensive for us.
Subtext: give us a lot of money

There was a lot more of it, but you get the idea. It was a masterly performance. In particular, his opening observation on detention without trial in the UK was very shrewd in pre-empting my own complaints. He was well-informed, as our derogation from the European Convention had only just happened.

I had a number of business points to raise on which we wanted Presidential assistance; these included the establishment of the Tashkent campus of Westminster University, the Oxus mining joint venture proposal and the Trinity Energy oil extraction contract. Karimov had a good mastery of the detail on each, which was very impressive as he had no notes. As things were going well I threw in the need for the British Council to find larger premises, which Karimov told his foreign minister to look at sympathetically. Karimov positively beamed with pleasure when I delivered my message of gratitude for Uzbek support in the War on Terror, and ostensibly looked out of the window when I delivered my couple of sentences on the need to improve Uzbekistan’s human rights record.

He did however respond obliquely to this when he gave me what I came to dub his “Paranoid” speech – I was to hear it several times, and it was the speech he gave to every Western visitor.

Karimov said Uzbekistan was surrounded by enemies. Afghanistan was still prey to Taliban supporters and their colleagues in the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan. Following the Tajik civil war, extreme Islamic militants formed part of the government of that neighbouring state. Furthermore Uzbekistan had to combat a return of Russian influence. Russia had troops in Tajikistan and an airbase in Kirghizstan. Uzbekistan was the region’s only reliable ally.

Furthermore Uzbekistan faced destabilisation from the flow of narcotics through Afghanistan and Tajikistan. A more insidious threat came from China. Sub-standard goods would undermine Uzbek production. These goods did not comply to safety standards and might be deliberately poisoned. In the light of all these threats, Uzbekistan was obliged to protect itself by measures which were, regrettably, authoritarian.

The first time you heard this litany it was actually quite impressive. It certainly swayed a number of prominent Western officials and politicians, including Donald Rumsfeld and Joschka Fischer. What is wrong with this analysis I hope will become clear as the story unfolds, but briefly:

Far from combating the narcotics trade, Karimov and his friends are up to their necks in it. The destruction of the Taliban largely ended any threat from the IMU; only Karimov’s persecution of Muslims now fuels the very small Islamic militant threat. There is no Islamic extremism in the Tajik government, and remaining Russian forces in the region are an important force for stability. The Uzbek economy produces very little because of mad centrist economic policies, and bans on Chinese goods were aimed to protect not domestic production, but import monopolies by the Karimov family and senior regime cronies.

I knew some, but not all of this, at the time. However I knew enough to distrust Karimov’s arguments. My instincts were wary of Karimov. I learnt that, while he may be a thug, he was a complex and shrewd one with a profound grasp of detail. I learnt two other things. Contrary to diplomatic corps opinion, he understood English. Even though he waited for the interpreter, plainly from his eyes he was following and understanding what I said. Finally he was healthy and vigorous. He was widely rumoured to have leukaemia, but he seemed pretty healthy to me.

As I left, Karimov presented me with a heavy Uzbek robe of finest silk, striped in many colours. I still use it as a dressing gown. For the next few weeks Uzbek television showed pictures of me in my kilt, being greeted by Karimov. They put it on between showings of the Independence Day celebrations.

I was still continuing my calls on British companies, but having presented my credentials now had further calls to make – on Uzbek ministers and on my fellow Ambassadors. This is a protocol requirement, but also quite useful as an information gathering exercise.

I decided to start with my EU colleagues. Three other EU countries – France, Germany and Italy – had Embassies in Tashkent. I started with my French colleague, whose Embassy and Residence were in a much grander Russian colonial palace than ours, just a couple of hundred metres up the same street.

While we had local guards, at the French Embassy I was saluted by smart French military guards, in black uniforms and peaked caps. They escorted me through to the main entrance, where I was shown through a series of plush modern offices; the old palace had been substantially remodelled on the inside. Eventually I met my new French colleague, Jacques Andre Costilhes. A short, black haired, balding man in his early fifties, eyes sparkling with a wry humour behind brown spectacles, Jacques Andre looked on the world with a wry detachment and cynical humour.

He described the economic situation as disastrous; commercial firms found it increasingly difficult to operate and poverty was increasing. But there were always niches where individual firms could make money. He announced proudly that a French company had made a breakthrough into the state dominated cotton sector. As for political reform, that was not to be expected. For the development of democracy, realistically we should wait thirty years.

At this point I interjected that, having just been involved in the successful development of democracy in Ghana, I was not so convinced it was impossible in Uzbekistan, where there were advantages including a very high literacy rate. But to progress towards democracy immediate changes were needed in areas of human rights such as media freedom, while I was very concerned about the reports of thousands of political prisoners.

“Listen, my friend”, said Jacques Andre, “The human rights situation is terrible. Everyone knows it. But Uzbekistan is an important ally, nowadays, for the United States. They say that Karimov is a hero in the war on terror. They have thousands of troops here, and an air force. This is their game. So, we do not mention human rights. If you do, it will achieve nothing, and only make trouble. This is a fabulous country. To see Samarkand, Bokhara, is wonderful. French archaeologists are working on the ancient civilisations of Afrosiyab and Khorezm. The history here is incredible. There is much to do, and the EU nations only require a very little reporting. None of us have major interests here. Me, I do not want to live with trouble in my life.”

My German colleague, Martin Hecker, was ensconced in a very large purpose built concrete Embassy. He prided himself on a career spent working in the communist bloc, and believed this gave him a special insight into the Karimov government. He was tall and spare with a shock of grey hair, blue eyes in a strong face. He too spoke of the impossibility of change, and said the key skill was to understand the mentality of the Karimov regime, and work with them. He stood up and moved to a striking painting on his wall. It was a stable with blurred figures, perhaps indicating a nativity scene. It was painted very cunningly so that what looked like the interior was the exterior next time you looked.

“This is an illusionist painting,” he said. “It is very fine. It holds an important truth. What is real is not the specks of paint on the paper. What is real is the impression implanted in your brain. In Uzbekistan we have an illusion that there is progress. The Americans wish to believe this illusion. But the existence of the illusion is itself the most pertinent fact.”

“You know, the only thing we can do in practice from this terrible situation is to rescue individuals. This I have done – artists, musicians, writers. We have given many political asylum.” He reeled off a few names, which at that time meant nothing to me. “You know,” he concluded, “when you cannot affect the general, you must concentrate on the particular.”

My ambition remained larger. If we couldn’t affect the general, why were we all here?

The French and German embassies each had about thirty diplomatic staff, with counsellors, first secretaries and the full range of a normal embassy. We had just six, all very junior. The Italians were on the same kind of scale as us.

But my Italian colleague’s office was about the size of my embassy, with beautiful thick carpets and expensive furniture. I was shown into his office by three absolutely gorgeous young women, one Italian and two Uzbek, who were a cliché of office sexiness; white low-buttoned blouses exposing a terrific amount of cleavage, hip hugging short black skirts with stockings, shiny black high heels. I wondered if this was an Italian diplomatic uniform, and pondered introducing a dress code into our Embassy.

I was installed at one end of his cavernous office waiting for the Ambassador, who was preceded into the room by a toy white dog which immediately jumped onto my lap and started slavering all over me, tiny paws on my chest, licking my face. I am not very fond of dogs, more of a cat man. The Ambassador came hurrying over, attracting away “Mitzi” with a biscuit. He then sat down in the chair opposite me and smiled.

Leopoldo Ferri de Lazara had the most beatific appearance imaginable. He had snowy white hair and wore a spotless white linen suit over a pale blue shirt with an open wide collar. His smile was concerned and kindly, and he had a perpetual air of being slightly puzzled by where he was and what was going on around him. He looked like someone playing God in an old Jimmy Stewart film. He had previously been Ambassador to Thailand, and had met his present wife there. Several of his ancestors had been Doges of Venice – he had brought their portraits in oil, together with a selection of other contents of his Venetian palace, with him to Tashkent. A few months later his sister was to visit; she was the most tremendous personage, and invitations started arriving to dinners with Countess X – I put X because she had at least 8 titles and surnames, which I can’t possibly remember. Like her brother she was in her early sixties, but she partied like a student, wore designer clothes and tons of jewellery and seemed to have fitted in Tashkent between endless parties with the glitterati at fashionable resorts. Her brother was shy and retiring by comparison, and never used a title or more than two surnames. I grew to like him immensely.

Now, on first acquaintance, we sat there as we sipped tea from paper thin antique china, and Leopoldo eyed me quizzically. He was refreshing to meet because he was much less mealy mouthed than other Ambassadors about the situation in the country. It was dreadful, and getting worse. The Americans, he declared, were stupid if they thought that supporting a dictator like Karimov was a recipe for long term stability. The problem with the Americans, he declared, was not that they failed to learn from history, but that they never understood the complexity of a situation, either at the time or in retrospect. He bemoaned the absence of an EU Delegation in Tashkent. The EU Commission had very little understanding of what was happening in the country, and the influence of the EU was nil.

Leopoldo gave an attractive and civilised critique, but little sign of any spur to action. This was misleading – over the next year he was to become a most valuable and pro-active ally.

The Uzbek government had, on the very day of my arrival, done something extremely baffling. It had physically sealed all its land borders, and closed down all the bazaars in Tashkent. The formal retail sector is very little developed, and the bazaars are simply large open air markets where 95% of consumer needs, from food through clothes to televisions, were retailed. Tashkent had been a major trade centre for thousands of years, and the bazaars were as old as that. Suddenly they were closed.

The government had cited health and safety reasons for the closure. The border closures they justified first on the basis of preventing the spread of disease, then as necessary to prevent an influx of sub-standard consumer goods.

After a couple of weeks it had become clear that this was no temporary measure. Word started to come in from the provinces of bazaars being closed down in other cities. The dislocation effects were extreme – about ten thousand people were directly employed in the bazaars, and probably more in cross-border trade.

Eric Reynolds, a very shrewd Scottish consultant who had been working on an EU project on market management, gave me some valuable insights. The formal retail sector was dominated by Deputy Prime Minister Usmanov, a very powerful figure whose family owned all the main supermarkets and the largest food importing company which had a de facto monopoly on many major commodities, for example sugar. There was no formal monopoly, but all imports needed customs approval and no-one else would get it. His competition came from the small traders who carried on the time honoured baggage trade within Central Asia. Wham! All competition had just vanished.

With shop prices at multiples of bazaar prices, and the lack of competition encouraging shopkeepers to jack up prices further, suddenly people in Tashkent couldn’t afford to eat.

James McGrory and another excellent British consultant, Peter Reddish, who represented the EU Commission in Tashkent, filled me in further. The Uzbek government was under heavy pressure from the IMF and international community to float the currency, the sum. Previously it had been much overvalued, but convertibility into dollars was very strictly controlled. In other words, you could get a ridiculously large amount of dollars for your sum, if you were a member of the regime and could get permission. Otherwise you couldn’t get any.

While not opening up to free conversion, the Uzbek government had started to devalue the sum. This seriously struck at the perks of regime members, and a trade and retail monopoly was a good way of replacing these perks.

Equally, if free currency conversion did come so anyone could buy dollars for sum, the liberalising effect could be negated by sealing the borders, thus not allowing anyone but the favoured few to do anything with dollars if they got them.

It was at just this interesting time that an IMF mission came to town to assess Uzbekistan’s economic progress. If progress was achieved, Uzbekistan would be eligible for a standby agreement and Karimov could get his mitts on hundreds of millions of dollars of IMF money. That seemed to me undesirable.

The IMF mission was blessed with an excellent Russian economist. We had lunch together and he agreed completely with the above analysis. The term of art for “corruption” in the IMF is “economic rent”. The anti-trade measures were a means of transference of access by the elite to economic rent, from currency to trade access, he declared..

All of which caused a problem for the United States. Having firmly adopted Karimov as a client, they were trying very hard to get the IMF to agree to a standby arrangement. The US ambassador had arranged for a lunch with the ambassadors of the G8 to meet the IMF delegation over lunch, and the Russian economist had said he expected some pressure at the lunch, and asked me to back him up.

I had not yet met my US colleague, who had not attended the Independence Day celebrations. His Residence was in a huge traditional Uzbek house, which fronted straight on to the pavement. Uzbek houses are square in design with a large internal courtyard garden. The US Ambassador, John Herbst, greeted me warmly at the door. He was a very tall, gangling man, with long arms and large hands. He had a fine face with a long thin nose, and wore thick black-rimmed spectacles. He had unruly black hair, which he would run his fingers through in thought, leaving it sticking up. There was something of the schoolboy about him.

We were about twenty around the lunch table, which had John Herbst at one end and the head of the visiting IMF mission, a Dutchman named Eric with an extremely bad wig, at the other. Herbst invited a rather nervous lady named Kathleen to make some opening remarks. She was from the US Treasury, and worked as an adviser inside the Uzbek Ministry of Finance. She stressed the progress made in devaluing the sum and in building up foreign reserves, and praised Uzbekistan’s debt repayment record.

Invited to give the mission’s observations, Eric called on the Russian economist to comment. He agreed progress had been made in devaluation, but said that the Uzbeks were nonetheless behind schedule on current account convertibility. But the recent anti-trade measures must be a matter of major concern, and raised fundamental questions about the Uzbek government’s commitment to economic liberalisation. He was immediately backed up by the resident World Bank representative. This was a grave bearded Englishman named David, and he spoke scathingly about the lack of structural reform, particularly on privatisation and utility pricing.

The US Ambassador then suggested the IMF had the choice of saying the glass was half full or half empty. He saw it as half full. If the progress the Uzbeks had made so far was not rewarded, it would be a slap in the face for the reformers in the Uzbek government, who would lose influence. The French Ambassador supported this view, and said that a French company had been given an important contract in cotton trading, which was a start to privatisation.

I should explain why we were pontificating in this way. The IMF is governed by a board composed of the member nations, rather like the UN is governed by a Security Council. The US and the other major contributors from the G8 have the most weight on the board. The IMF staff – as represented by Erik and his mission – would present a report with recommendations, in this case on Uzbekistan and the prospects for a standby agreement. But it would be the board members who made the decision, which is why we were discussing it now. Our home governments would decide on how the board would vote – in the case of the UK, the Treasury and DFID would have the most say. But as western governments are not full of experts on Uzbekistan, the report and recommendations sent back by their Ambassadors in Tashkent, following this lunch, would have a big influence on the decision.

Erik had a fine line to tread. He had to come up with something intellectually credible, and square this with the desire of the IMF’s biggest shareholder – the USA – for a positive report, at a time when the Uzbek government was busily ruining its own economy. He also had to produce a public statement agreed with the government of Uzbekistan, which after all was a member of the IMF too.

As the very new kid on the block, I had not yet said anything, which had the advantage that I was able to do some justice to my excellent lunch. Erik was now talking, and saying that the Uzbek government was claiming a current economic growth rate of 8%. This brought laughter around the table. Erik then said that they were negotiating a figure with the Uzbek government and thought that their report would say 3% growth.

I was startled into interrupting.
“I’m sorry?”
“Three per cent, Ambassador. I think the Uzbek government will agree a figure of three per cent.”
“Well, maybe they will, but it can’t be true. I have been visiting a lot of companies since I came, and talking to people active in various areas of the economy, and I haven’t met one person who doesn’t think this economy is shrinking, not growing.”
“I agree”, said Leopoldo, “if you wanted an example of how to ruin an economy, then the Uzbek government provides it.”
Eric temporised: “Well, the difficulty is there are no independent institutions providing economic statistics, and I certainly agree that government statistics can be misleading. But if you are forced to rely on anecdotal evidence, that is not very reliable either. But consider this. This is largely an agricultural economy. Agriculture accounts for more than sixty per cent of gross domestic product. Last year there was a very bad harvest, of both cotton and grains. This year there is a harvest – well, let’s not say good, but fair. That already will give you a lot of economic growth.”

John Herbst was eyeballing me in a less than friendly manner. “Well, I think that is a very logical explanation on the economic growth point. Let us look at devaluation now…”

I didn’t listen to his next few words because I was perusing rapidly a table of statistics David had passed across to me. What were they? Judging by David’s eyebrows, there was a killer fact in here somewhere. What the hell was it? Oh…

“I am sorry, John”, I said, “I just want to clarify something that perhaps I didn’t understand on the growth figures. Eric, you said that agriculture was 60% of the economy, so that there must be growth this year due to a good harvest, while last year was a bad harvest. Did I understand you?”
Eric, who was trying to eat some of his lunch, looked up and nodded.
“But,” I continued, “By the same logic, last year there must have been a fall because of the very bad harvest. Yet I see the IMF posted a figure last year of four per cent economic growth. Now that just can’t be true, can it?”

Erik looked at his papers. “Well, in logic it would be possible if there was also a very bad harvest in the preceding year.”
“But there wasn’t”, said Leopoldo. “It was a good harvest.”
The ensuing silence was broken by the German Ambassador, Martin Hecker. “Evidently our young British colleague is an economist. We should be grateful for our number to be augmented in such a fashion. But perhaps we should also remember that Uzbekistan is not Washington or London, or perhaps I might even say, Berlin. The application of logic does not always apply. Indeed we may say,” he gave a discreet sound between a laugh and a cough “that in the situation we have here in Uzbekistan, logic cannot be a suitable diagnostic approach because the situation itself is not rational. What is required is a more holistic approach, based perhaps on a broader understanding and experience.”

Which meant let’s bend the facts. That is what the international community has done, consistently. The World Bank states that from 1993 to 2003 Uzbek GDP fell from 13.1 million dollars to 9.9 million dollars. Yet the IMF has accepted a positive growth figure for all but one of those years, and an average growth figure of 3.2% in this period. The best bit is that the World Bank still carries both figures in impossible combination in its Uzbekistan briefing paper.

The lunch established my reputation for being difficult and outspoken, while convincing me that the US were willing to bend any fact in defence of their ally, Karimov. It also made me very popular with the IMF staff, including Eric, who was used to being pressured by ambassadors to be soft rather than hard.

The following day I made my courtesy call on John Herbst. There were about sixty diplomats at the US Embassy, in addition to all the non-diplomatic staff, the military, the advisers in Uzbek government ministries, and a large number of US Aid funded American personnel. The Uzbek Karshi Khanabad airbase, known as K2, used to be one of the largest in the Soviet Union. It now housed three squadrons of the United States Air Force, guarded by a couple of thousand US troops. Halliburton, Dick Cheney’s company, had contractors building the improved airbase facilities and extending the aprons to take more planes. Halliburton were assigned their own US marine guards. Herbst had a big job, an important part of which was keeping the Uzbek government sweet.

The K2 airbase had been useful for supporting US operations in Afghanistan. Now that the Americans had Baghram airbase in Kabul and access to other Afghan airfields, K2 was no longer necessary for this purpose. But the US had been cock-a-hoop at taking over a major Soviet airbase, and were now preparing for a permanent stay.

The Pentagon had formulated a new doctrine to ensure control of the “Wider Middle East”. By that, they meant the Middle East as we understand it, plus the Caucasus and Central Asia, which is of course a massive belt of oil and gas resources. This “Wider Middle East” is to be surrounded by “Lily pads”. These are air bases which have a permanent garrison but the potential to “open out” – be rapidly expanded to take reinforcement for a massive projection of US military force anywhere throughout the area. The giant airbase at K2 was the easternmost, and one of the most important, of these lily pads. So the US relationship with Uzbekistan was essential to a much wider geo-strategic plan.

The FCO described this to me as essential to the security of Western hydrocarbon supplies. I viewed it as essential to keeping oil prices down and ensuring the World’s very limited hydrocarbon supplies were guzzled as soon as possible, largely by the US, with disastrous results in terms of carbon dioxide emissions and global warming. So you will gather I was a bit sceptical about all of this.

To house the vastly expanded US operation, a giganticnew Embassy was being constructed in Tashkent. Meantime they had crammed five times more people into their Embassy building, and I was escorted through numerous layers of security by US marines until I met John Herbst in the tiny attic office, overflowing with books, to which he had retreated in the face of a flood of new staff.

John Herbst is a career diplomat, unlike most US Ambassadors who are party donors. But no-one is going to give a million dollars to the Republican Party to be made Ambassador to Uzbekistan. John is a deeply intellectual man, who is basically shy and lacks social skills. I was surprised by how disliked I found he was by almost all of his senior diplomatic staff. Much of that came down to policy – the majority of them were decent people, and up close the Karimov regime is so obnoxious that co-operating with it would make any decent person choke. John though was a true believer, whose heart was entirely in the Bush agenda, and was particularly keen on the fact that Karimov was such a strong supporter of Israel. The Israeli Ambassador told me on the day we both presented our credentials that that Karimov had been a good personal friend of Sharon for over twenty years.

Now John and I started by going over the economic arguments about the IMF again. He has a disconcerting habit of pausing to consider his reply when engaged in thought about the argument, and these pauses can be really long – about twenty seconds. Most of us cover these moments with empty phrases while we think, but he didn’t bother. I had got used to this by the time we got on to human rights.

John argued that the human rights situation was improving. He said that the abolition of the office of censor, earlier that summer, had been a major advance.

“But what are you talking about?” I replied, “The media is completely censored. There is absolutely no real news at all – it’s the most arrant propaganda.”
“Well, Craig, I don’t know how extensive you’re research has been. But we have a major media project, and there have been a couple of articles in the regional press which have been critical of the decisions of regional officials. And Ruslan Sharipov has published articles attacking government corruption”
“That hardly affects the general picture – they sound like exceptions that prove the rule, from the very fact that you can list the only articles that aren’t government propaganda. But the human rights situation is desperate. Do you realise how many torture cases there are now documented?”
“If you are referring to the boiling case, I know you’re making a big thing of it too, and we are very concerned. But it is an isolated incident. I have never heard of a parallel case. And there has been a real advance on torture. In the Ferghana Valley, three policemen have been convicted of the murder of a detainee. That was after a case which I took up personally with Karimov. That is undoubtedly real progress. Previously officials have been completely immune from any fear of retribution. Nothing will do more to change the behaviour of the police and security services.”
“I still think that is a drop in the ocean. Human Rights Watch and other NGOs reckon there are some 7,000 prisoners of conscience, held for political and religious beliefs. I must say from my own research I am starting to think that is an underestimate.”
“Yes, but most of those are Muslims.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I mean Muslim extremists. Most of those prisoners are Muslim extremists. You know, Karimov has a genuine problem that you can’t ignore. He faced armed incursions from the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan. These bad guys really exist. They are not imaginary. You know, we are all caught up in the War on Terror. We didn’t want to be. Nobody in the USA asked for the Twin Towers to be attacked. But we find ourselves defending our very lifestyle. And Karimov is part of that defence.”
“Yes, but all the evidence is that the vast majority of those in jail aren’t terrorists at all. I don’t think they are extremists. Even the ones convicted of membership of Hizb-ut-Tehrir mostly aren’t really members. The evidence is planted. Most of them are just in jail for following their religion. They aren’t extremists.”
“You don’t think the Taliban were extreme?”
“Yes, I think the Taliban were extreme.”
“Well think about it. Most of these guys who were locked up, if they were in power they would impose the same kind of society. Have you ever been to Broadway? That’s what they call the kind of recreational area there. I like to sit on Broadway and have a quiet beer, watching the pretty Uzbek girls go buy in T shirts and skirts. You know, this society is Western in some ways. If these guys in jail got their way, you would have none of it. No Broadway, no beer, no T shirts, certainly no mini skirts.”
“Look, accepting for a moment that those in jail do want that – and I think that’s open to doubt – if that’s what they want, they are entitled to their view, as long as they don’t turn to violence to try to achieve it. I don’t call them extremists.”
“Well, that’s where we differ. A fully Islamic society, with Sharia law, is extremist. Extreme Islam is itself a kind of institutionalised violence. Do you realise how much women would be oppressed if the Islamists got into power? You know, I had six US congressmen visiting here this week. They were given a briefing on human rights by Mikhail Ardzinov of the Independent Human Rights Organisation of Uzbekistan. He told those congressmen, straight out, that most of these so called prisoners of conscience - not just most, the large majority he said, the large majority – ought to be in prison. Now here’s another step forward, Ardzinov’s organisation has been registered and is fully legal”
“I’m beginning to see why.”
“That’s really not fair. Ardzinov has a very brave record over many years.”
“I look at this another way. People are being locked up because they are Muslim. So are other political dissidents, but most prisoners are locked up for being Islamic. There are no fair trials, and there is a lot of torture in the prisons. We are being seen to support this regime, so we are making Muslims hate us. We are provoking terrorism, not fighting it.”

John looked weary, as though he had heard this all before.

“Look,” he said, “Karimov’s got to keep a tight grip on the Muslims. He also wants to drive forward a reform agenda, but he’s facing a lot of resistance from within the governing party. And his biggest problem is his own training. Karimov is a Soviet trained economist. The problem is he thinks he understands economics, but all he knows is a lot of false precepts. Karimov is the best Uzbek leader we’ll get, and he’s not personally corrupt.”

The bit about Karimov not being personally corrupt really did throw me. Herbst was understandably keen to put the best possible gloss on the regime, but this bit about Karimov was so far at variance with all received information from other sources, it really did make me wonder just how out of touch Herbst was.

It lay a year in the future, but Sharipov as a result of the critical articles John quoted was framed and convicted on charges of under-age sex, while his defence lawyer, Surat Ikramov, was kidnapped outside the courtroom, bound and gagged. He was then driven into the countryside, murderously beaten, and left for dead in a ditch, but survived. By that time, the members of the security forces convicted of murdering the detainee, had been released.

Our allotted hour was up and both John and I had other appointments. We would have plenty of occasions to resume this conversation.

My next call was on Azimov, the Minister for Economic Affairs. I wanted to meet him before sending off my telegram about what to do at the IMF. He was touted by the Americans as a leading reformer, and certainly looked like an Italian banker, with his sharp silk suits and American accent. He stressed the progress made on devaluation and foreign currency reserves.

I pressed him on why there had been almost no progress on privatisation, and particularly annoyed him by describing most of the privatisation as false, involving shifting of assets between entities which were all ultimately state-owned. He replied with a barrage of statistics which were patently false – I wondered how on earth he could trot them out with a straight face, but I suppose it was Soviet training.

He got pretty angry when I questioned why the borders were closed. He simply denied they were closed. I told him I had visited several border crossing points myself, as had other EU embassies, and they were indeed shut. He looked at me levelly.
“You are mistaken.” He said. “They are not closed. They are controlled.”

He really got angry when I asked him when there would be a move to privatisation in the cotton industry. No country, he declared, would allow the privatisation of its most important industry. I told him that statement was simply wrong, and further pointed out that Kazakhstan next door had privatised its cotton industry, resulting in a threefold increase of production very quickly. Azimov became very quiet and intense.

“That is untrue. Any increase is due only to criminals smuggling Uzbek cotton.”
“I don’t think that’s true. As you know, the cotton is mostly sold through the Liverpool Cotton Exchange. The figures on increasing Kazakh production come from the traders. Anyway privatisation is the answer to smuggling. Cotton sells for the market price in Kazakhstan, that’s why it gets smuggled there. If you had a market price here it wouldn’t be smuggled.”
“Ambassador, this is not Poland. Privatisation here would lead to mass unemployment and social collapse. You know, I am a Director of the European Bank for Economic Reconstruction and Development. I am the longest serving director. Let me tell you this. Poland only survived privatisation because it received eighteen billion dollars of economic assistance from the West. We have received almost nothing.”

It was very much Azimov’s style to blind you with statistics and his air of great assurance, but yet again he was talking complete rubbish. Having run the economic section of the British Embassy in Warsaw, I knew this stuff.
“I am sorry, Minister,” I said, “But you’re simply mistaken. Poland didn’t receive one billion dollars, let alone eighteen. Besides I don’t think it would have helped. East Germany did receive massive transfers, and Poland didn’t. Yet Poland grew quicker than East Germany. Other factors are far more important, like labour costs and deregulation. In fact I would argue too much subsidy can be harmful.”
Azimov sat back, a satisfied look on his face: “There is no point in arguing with someone who simply follows the dogma of the economic liberal.”

It was shortly September 11, 2002 – the first anniversary of the destruction of the Twin Towers. I was invited to a commemoration held by the US Embassy in the ballroom of the Intercontinental Hotel in Tashkent. I attended with mixed feelings. Of course I felt unalloyed sorrow and even despair at the heartlessness of this terrorist act. Yet the United States was using this horror to provide a screen for pushing its very material interests in oil and gas. In Uzbekistan this took the form of giving strong backing to a very unpleasant dictatorship. I had, in just one month, seen how that regime operated close-up, in the Khuderbegainov trial and in the case of the dissidents boiled to death. I had also seen Colin Powell, astonishingly, certify Uzbekistan’s human rights record to Congress as acceptable, and seen the US protect Uzbekistan from justified criticism in the IMF over its continued Soviet and increasingly kleptocratic economic policy.

Security was very heavy, and after a long queue for the metal detectors I entered the ballroom, and had a coke and some cashew nuts, while saying a few polite but sombre words to diplomatic colleagues. The ceremony was simple – John Herbst read out some words about the atrocity and the evils of terrorism, supported by Uzbek Foreign Minister Komilov. A tape was played of a mobile telephone call from the twin towers suddenly cutting off, which I felt was rather over the top. But despite my cynicism I was moved at the thought of all that death and what looked like more death to come, and I shed more than one tear.

For the next few days I struggled with my conviction that in supporting Karimov the US had got its Central Asian policy thoroughly wrong, and that we were wrong to follow the US. I knew that as Ambassador it was my duty to inform Jack Straw and Whitehall of my view. But I was also aware that my view would be acutely unpopular, especially with my own immediate line manager, Simon Butt, and with 10 Downing Street. I knew that to say what I wanted to say was likely to damage my career pretty severely. I talked it over with Fiona, who said that I should remember my obligation to supporting my children, but she appreciated my conscience must come first. She then rather sourly concluded that she did not know why I was consulting her as I always did what I wanted anyway.

In this period I received in my office a young analyst named Duncan from the FCO’s Research Analysts. Stuart Horsman was the analyst who dealt specifically with Central Asia, and Duncan was a colleague who shared a room with Stuart. He was researching regional security issues in the former Soviet Union. He was most concerned about the threat of increasing Islamic militarism in Uzbekistan, feeding through into international terrorism.

I was relieved to find that Duncan shared my analysis. He felt that the Karimov regime had no intention of adopting real reform, was completely beyond the pale on human rights, and was creating a tinderbox through harsh repression leading to resentment and reaction. He was the first to point out to me that the neo-conservatives in the Bush camp, particularly the so-called intellectuals of the religious right, were talking of a United States-Israel-Uzbek axis driving a military wedge into the heart of Islam – thinking picked up by Donald Rumsfeld in his “Lily pad” policy of air bases surrounding, in effect, the Muslim world.

Duncan told me that Research Analysts despaired of our blind support for Bush in Central Asia, which had somehow been subsumed into the US notion of the “Wider Middle East”. Eastern Department held a radically different view from Research Analysts and were, driven by Simon Butt and Dominic Schroeder, blindly “Atlanticist” or pro-American. The policy of backing nasty dictators was bound to rebound on us – it always does - but they just couldn’t see it.

FCO Research Analysts have a key role in assimilating material from media, academic and other open sources, combining it with diplomatic reporting and intelligence material and then analysing and assessing it. To give an idea of their role, they lead in discussions between Whitehall and the United States National Security Agency. They play an important role at the Joint Intelligence Committee and its sub-committees.

They would therefore have been central to the preparation of the dossier on Weapons of Mass Destruction in Iraq. I had always found our Research Analysts to be very bright, with a strong reputation in the academic world and a lot of personal integrity. It was therefore beyond me how they had signed up, as they must have, to the dossier. I asked my visitor whether it was the rubbish it seemed or whether there was knockdown evidence I was unaware of. He said the dossier was indeed the rubbish it seemed. There were no Iraqi WMD. History has proven him right.

I hadn’t asked the next question, but it hung in the air between us.
“You’re wondering why we signed up to it?” he asked. “Well, I can promise you it was awful. The pressure was unbelievable. People were threatened with the end of their careers. I saw analysts in tears. We felt, as a group, absolutely shafted. Actually we still do. You know, I think we are all a bit ashamed that nobody had the guts to go public, resign and say that the WMD thing is a myth. But you know MI6 really hyped it. The DIS (Defence Intelligence Service) tried to block it but they couldn’t.”

On 16 September I locked myself in my office and spent the first half of the morning writing a long telegram on the IMF and Uzbek economic policy, specifically stating that we should oppose, within the IMF and other international financial institutions, attempts by the United States to get an easy ride for Uzbekistan, particularly as they were based on false claims about progress in economic reform.

I then drank a cup of coffee, went to the loo, stared out of the window, and sucked on my pen before starting my next telegram. Once I started it came fluently, and my fingers on the keyboard could not keep up with my thoughts. It contained in a few paragraphs the concentrated essence of a month’s experience in Tashkent, a month’s thinking and soul-searching. This is what I wrote:

FM Tashkent
TO FCO, Cabinet Office, DFID, MODUK, OSCE Posts, Security Council Posts
16 September 02

SUBJECT: US/Uzbekistan: Promoting Terrorism

SUMMARY

1. US plays down human rights situation in Uzbekistan. A dangerous policy: Increasing repression combined with poverty will promote Islamic terrorism. Support to Karimov regime a bankrupt and cynical policy.

DETAIL

2. The Economist of 7 September states: “Uzbekistan, in particular, has jailed many thousands of moderate Islamists, an excellent way of converting their families and friends to extremism.” The Economist also spoke of “the growing despotism of Mr Karimov” and judged that “the past year has seen a further deterioration of an already grim human rights record”. I agree.

3. Between 7,000 and 10,000 political and religious prisoners are currently detained, many after trials before kangaroo courts with no representation. Terrible torture is commonplace: the EU is currently considering a demarche over the terrible case of two Muslims tortured to death in jail apparently with boiling water. Two leading dissidents, Elena Urlaeva and Larissa Vdovna, were two weeks ago committed to a lunatic asylum, where they are being drugged, for demonstrating on human rights. Opposition political parties remain banned. There is no doubt that September 11 gave the pretext to crack down still harder on dissent under the guise of counter-terrorism.

4. Yet on 8 September the US State Department certified that Uzbekistan was improving in both human rights and democracy, thus fulfilling a constitutional requirement and allowing the continuing disbursement of $140 million of US aid to Uzbekistan this year. Human Rights Watch immediately published a commendably sober and balanced rebuttal of the State Department claim.

5. Again we are back in the area of the US accepting sham reform [a reference to my previous telegram on the economy]. In August media censorship was abolished, and theoretically there are independent media outlets, but in practice there is absolutely no criticism of President Karimov or the central government in any Uzbek media. State Department call this self-censorship: I am not sure that is a fair way to describe an unwillingness to experience the brutal methods of the security services.

6. Similarly, following US pressure when Karimov visited Washington, a human rights NGO has been permitted to register. This is an advance, but they have little impact given that no media are prepared to cover any of their activities or carry any of their statements.

7. The final improvement State quote is that in one case of murder of a prisoner the police involved have been prosecuted. That is an improvement, but again related to the Karimov visit and does not appear to presage a general change of policy. On the latest cases of torture deaths the Uzbeks have given the OSCE an incredible explanation, given the nature of the injuries, that the victims died in a fight between prisoners.

8. But allowing a single NGO, a token prosecution of police officers and a fake press freedom cannot possibly outweigh the huge scale of detentions, the torture and the secret executions. President Karimov has admitted to 100 executions a year but human rights groups believe there are more. Added to this, all opposition parties remain banned (the President got a 98% vote) and the Internet is strictly controlled. All Internet providers must go through a single government server and access is barred to many sites including all dissident and opposition sites and much international media (including, ironically, waronterrorism.com). This is in essence still a totalitarian state: there is far less freedom than still prevails, for example, in Mugabe’s Zimbabwe. A Movement for Democratic Change or any judicial independence would be impossible here.

9. Karimov is a dictator who is committed to neither political nor economic reform. The purpose of his regime is not the development of his country but the diversion of economic rent to his oligarchic supporters through government controls. As a senior Uzbek academic told me privately, there is more repression here now than in Brezhnev’s time. The US are trying to prop up Karimov economically and to justify this support they need to claim that a process of economic and political reform is underway. That they do so claim is either cynicism or self-delusion.

10. This policy is doomed to failure. Karimov is driving this resource-rich country towards economic ruin like an Abacha. And the policy of increasing repression aimed indiscriminately at pious Muslims, combined with a deepening poverty, is the most certain way to ensure continuing support for the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan. They have certainly been decimated and disorganised in Afghanistan, and Karimov’s repression may keep the lid on for years – but pressure is building and could ultimately explode.

11. I quite understand the interest of the US in strategic airbases and why they back Karimov, but I believe US policy is misconceived. In the short term it may help fight terrorism but in the medium term it will promote it, as the Economist points out. And it can never be right to lower our standards on human rights. There is a complex situation in Central Asia and it is wrong to look at it only through a prism picked up on September 12. Worst of all is what appears to be the philosophy underlying the current US view of Uzbekistan: that September 11 divided the World into two camps in the “War against Terrorism” and that Karimov is on “our” side.

12. If Karimov is on “our” side, then this war cannot be simply between the forces of good and evil. It must be about more complex things, like securing the long-term US military presence in Uzbekistan. I silently wept at the 11 September commemoration here. The right words on New York have all been said. But last week was also another anniversary – the US-led overthrow of Salvador Allende in Chile. The subsequent dictatorship killed, dare I say it, rather more people than died on September 11. Should we not remember them also, and learn from that too? I fear that we are heading down the same path of US-sponsored dictatorship here. It is ironic that the beneficiary is perhaps the most unreformed of the World’s old communist leaders.

13. We need to think much more deeply about Central Asia. It is easy to place Uzbekistan in the “too difficult” tray and let the US run with it, but I think they are running in the wrong direction. We should tell them of the dangers we see. Our policy is theoretically one of engagement, but in practice this has not meant much. Engagement makes sense, but it must mean grappling with the problems, not mute collaboration. We need to start actively to state a distinctive position on democracy and human rights, and press for a realistic view to be taken in the IMF. We should continue to resist pressures to start a bilateral DFID programme, unless channelled non-governmentally, and not restore ECGD cover despite the constant lobbying. We should not invite Karimov to the UK. We should step up our public diplomacy effort, stressing democratic values, including more resources from the British Council. We should increase support to human rights activists, and strive for contact with non-official Islamic groups.

14. Above all we need to care about the 22 million Uzbek people, suffering from poverty and lack of freedom. They are not just pawns in the new Great Game.

MURRAY

In retrospect I am surprised that my analysis was so fully formed in just a month – it stands up now as well as it did then. It is also interesting that I felt the need to call the Economist magazine in aid to support my assertions. It is important to understand the background to this telegram. We had just fought a war in neighbouring Afghanistan and were gearing towards another in Iraq. Tony Blair had staked all on standing “Shoulder to shoulder” with George W Bush, and the war on terror and the righteousness of the US cause were unquestionable. I was going way out on a limb and felt the need to show that, at least outside Whitehall, some highly respectable, informed opinion was with me.

After I had sent it, I walked through to Chris Hirst’s office. Chris was squatting on the floor, going through some documents in a cupboard.
“I know the bastard’s here somewhere.” He said, standing up. I handed him the telegram, saying he might like to look at it. He looked dubious, but his interest grew as he read through it, becoming increasingly absorbed. He finished and handed it back, shaking his head.
“Well, what do you think?” I asked.
“Pretty long for a resignation letter”, he said.

It was not many days before the attack from my line management came, in the form of a letter from Simon Butt. He was concerned, he wrote, that I was “over-focussed on human rights”, to the detriment of the balance of UK interests in Uzbekistan. He was also most concerned that I was discussing human rights cases in open email correspondence, and making comments about the Uzbek government, in emails and on open phone lines, which were likely to be intercepted by the Uzbek Security Services and thus damage the UK/Uzbek relationship. My performance was causing concern, and would be closely monitored.

Unfortunately I cannot be at a terminal on 1 September. I have already posted my call for sanctions on Uzbek cotton here, and addressed possible criticisms here.

However to contribute to this day of blogging on Uzbekistan, and for one day only – this will be removed tomorrow – I make available Chapter 10 of my book, which I think makes plain why the British government is trying to ban its publication.

I retain full copyright in this which must not be used for commercial purposes.

Craig Murray

Chapter 10 – Diplomacy

Strictly speaking, you are not an Ambassador until you have presented your letters of credence, or credentials. These are two letters from your own head of state. One recalls your predecessor as Ambassador, and the second appoints you. You have to deliver these in person to the Head of State of the country to which you have been appointed.

I only had to wait about a week before I was called to do this. President Karimov was receiving me and the new Israeli, Japanese and South Korean Ambassadors, one after the other. I went with Karen to support me and make sure we didn’t lose the letters. An official Uzbek government car arrived to collect me – I don’t know if my Note had any effect, but it was timed so I wasn’t kept waiting at all. In keeping with tradition the car did not fly a flag on the way there, but had a union jack on the way back as I was now “official”. The Uzbeks had evidently made their own union jack. It looked wrong, and on inspection the Uzbeks had failed to note that the red diagonals on the union Jack are not centred in the white diagonals.

I had decided to perform this ceremony in my kilt and full highland dress, partly as a proud expression of nationality, and partly to make plain that I shouldn’t be mistaken for one of the dull crowd of Ambassadors. I had also asked London if I could say something on human rights in addition to the script on standing shoulder to shoulder against terrorism and the value we placed on commercial and educational relationships. The FCO had surprised me by replying immediately with a couple of pretty strong sentences on the need for Uzbekistan to improve its human rights record.

The reception was held at the Presidential offices in central Tashkent – the President lived in a Palace outside the city at Durmen and drove in a huge convoy to work every morning, causing massive road closures and disruption. I was shown through to a vast marbled hall. In the glare of television lights I walked up to Karimov, Karen two paces behind me. We shook hands, Karen handed me the letters, I handed them to Karimov, he then led me through to a side room. There were five Louis XIV chairs for Karimov, his foreign minister Komilov, an interpreter, Karen and I. The doors were closed, blotting out the TV cameras, and we sat down to talk.

Karimov was about 5 foot seven inches, but muscular with a short, broad neck and a thick jowled face. His oriental eyes were deep-set and his skin sallow. His nose was small and wide, his mouth narrow and thin. He moved easily and seemed very assured. His eyes were less dark than his skin colour would suggest, and bright with a shrewd intelligence. He had played for twenty years at the top level of a power politics where, if you lost, you died, and had ruthlessly eliminated large numbers of people who had crossed him. He wasn’t going to be fazed simply by my putting on a kilt.

“I am delighted to see you, Mr Ambassador”, he said, through his interpreter. Interestingly, he was speaking Russian rather than his official language, Uzbek. “I have always had the greatest admiration for the wisdom of the United Kingdom. You have had many generations to develop that wisdom.”
Subtext: don’t expect any rapid change towards democracy here

He continued: “One great example of the wisdom of your government, on which I must congratulate you, is that you have just made a derogation from the European Convention on Human Rights to enable terrorist suspects to be detained in the United Kingdom without trial.”
Subtext: don’t you lecture me on human rights, people who live in glass houses

“The greatest misfortune in the history of the Uzbek people, is what happened in what you call the Great Game. Unfortunately the British were never able to make any progress towards Central Asia, and their efforts to do so met with some very great historic defeats.”
Subtext: your country doesn’t really cut that much ice around here

“It would have been infinitely better for our people if they had been conquered by the British and not by the Russians. Our whole history of development, and especially economic development, would have been different. As it is, of course, we know only the central planning system. You must realise we are a hundred years behind.”
Subtext: don’t expect any rapid changes towards capitalism

Of course, the danger of militant Islam is a threat to the very existence of Western civilisation. For a decade we Uzbeks stood alone to defend the West against Islam. When the allies came to fight the Taliban, it was late. We are still the frontline against Islam. We were vital to the allied effort against the Taliban. We are a poor country and this cost us a lot of resources. It is natural that we should anticipate that, just as our geo-strategic position was essential for operations against the Taliban, so it will be also essential for operations to reconstruct Afghanistan. Uzbek companies should be fully employed in this work. We are also the frontline of defence for the West against the flow of narcotics. This too is very expensive for us.
Subtext: give us a lot of money

There was a lot more of it, but you get the idea. It was a masterly performance. In particular, his opening observation on detention without trial in the UK was very shrewd in pre-empting my own complaints. He was well-informed, as our derogation from the European Convention had only just happened.

I had a number of business points to raise on which we wanted Presidential assistance; these included the establishment of the Tashkent campus of Westminster University, the Oxus mining joint venture proposal and the Trinity Energy oil extraction contract. Karimov had a good mastery of the detail on each, which was very impressive as he had no notes. As things were going well I threw in the need for the British Council to find larger premises, which Karimov told his foreign minister to look at sympathetically. Karimov positively beamed with pleasure when I delivered my message of gratitude for Uzbek support in the War on Terror, and ostensibly looked out of the window when I delivered my couple of sentences on the need to improve Uzbekistan’s human rights record.

He did however respond obliquely to this when he gave me what I came to dub his “Paranoid” speech – I was to hear it several times, and it was the speech he gave to every Western visitor.

Karimov said Uzbekistan was surrounded by enemies. Afghanistan was still prey to Taliban supporters and their colleagues in the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan. Following the Tajik civil war, extreme Islamic militants formed part of the government of that neighbouring state. Furthermore Uzbekistan had to combat a return of Russian influence. Russia had troops in Tajikistan and an airbase in Kirghizstan. Uzbekistan was the region’s only reliable ally.

Furthermore Uzbekistan faced destabilisation from the flow of narcotics through Afghanistan and Tajikistan. A more insidious threat came from China. Sub-standard goods would undermine Uzbek production. These goods did not comply to safety standards and might be deliberately poisoned. In the light of all these threats, Uzbekistan was obliged to protect itself by measures which were, regrettably, authoritarian.

The first time you heard this litany it was actually quite impressive. It certainly swayed a number of prominent Western officials and politicians, including Donald Rumsfeld and Joschka Fischer. What is wrong with this analysis I hope will become clear as the story unfolds, but briefly:

Far from combating the narcotics trade, Karimov and his friends are up to their necks in it. The destruction of the Taliban largely ended any threat from the IMU; only Karimov’s persecution of Muslims now fuels the very small Islamic militant threat. There is no Islamic extremism in the Tajik government, and remaining Russian forces in the region are an important force for stability. The Uzbek economy produces very little because of mad centrist economic policies, and bans on Chinese goods were aimed to protect not domestic production, but import monopolies by the Karimov family and senior regime cronies.

I knew some, but not all of this, at the time. However I knew enough to distrust Karimov’s arguments. My instincts were wary of Karimov. I learnt that, while he may be a thug, he was a complex and shrewd one with a profound grasp of detail. I learnt two other things. Contrary to diplomatic corps opinion, he understood English. Even though he waited for the interpreter, plainly from his eyes he was following and understanding what I said. Finally he was healthy and vigorous. He was widely rumoured to have leukaemia, but he seemed pretty healthy to me.

As I left, Karimov presented me with a heavy Uzbek robe of finest silk, striped in many colours. I still use it as a dressing gown. For the next few weeks Uzbek television showed pictures of me in my kilt, being greeted by Karimov. They put it on between showings of the Independence Day celebrations.

I was still continuing my calls on British companies, but having presented my credentials now had further calls to make – on Uzbek ministers and on my fellow Ambassadors. This is a protocol requirement, but also quite useful as an information gathering exercise.

I decided to start with my EU colleagues. Three other EU countries – France, Germany and Italy – had Embassies in Tashkent. I started with my French colleague, whose Embassy and Residence were in a much grander Russian colonial palace than ours, just a couple of hundred metres up the same street.

While we had local guards, at the French Embassy I was saluted by smart French military guards, in black uniforms and peaked caps. They escorted me through to the main entrance, where I was shown through a series of plush modern offices; the old palace had been substantially remodelled on the inside. Eventually I met my new French colleague, Jacques Andre Costilhes. A short, black haired, balding man in his early fifties, eyes sparkling with a wry humour behind brown spectacles, Jacques Andre looked on the world with a wry detachment and cynical humour.

He described the economic situation as disastrous; commercial firms found it increasingly difficult to operate and poverty was increasing. But there were always niches where individual firms could make money. He announced proudly that a French company had made a breakthrough into the state dominated cotton sector. As for political reform, that was not to be expected. For the development of democracy, realistically we should wait thirty years.

At this point I interjected that, having just been involved in the successful development of democracy in Ghana, I was not so convinced it was impossible in Uzbekistan, where there were advantages including a very high literacy rate. But to progress towards democracy immediate changes were needed in areas of human rights such as media freedom, while I was very concerned about the reports of thousands of political prisoners.

“Listen, my friend”, said Jacques Andre, “The human rights situation is terrible. Everyone knows it. But Uzbekistan is an important ally, nowadays, for the United States. They say that Karimov is a hero in the war on terror. They have thousands of troops here, and an air force. This is their game. So, we do not mention human rights. If you do, it will achieve nothing, and only make trouble. This is a fabulous country. To see Samarkand, Bokhara, is wonderful. French archaeologists are working on the ancient civilisations of Afrosiyab and Khorezm. The history here is incredible. There is much to do, and the EU nations only require a very little reporting. None of us have major interests here. Me, I do not want to live with trouble in my life.”

My German colleague, Martin Hecker, was ensconced in a very large purpose built concrete Embassy. He prided himself on a career spent working in the communist bloc, and believed this gave him a special insight into the Karimov government. He was tall and spare with a shock of grey hair, blue eyes in a strong face. He too spoke of the impossibility of change, and said the key skill was to understand the mentality of the Karimov regime, and work with them. He stood up and moved to a striking painting on his wall. It was a stable with blurred figures, perhaps indicating a nativity scene. It was painted very cunningly so that what looked like the interior was the exterior next time you looked.

“This is an illusionist painting,” he said. “It is very fine. It holds an important truth. What is real is not the specks of paint on the paper. What is real is the impression implanted in your brain. In Uzbekistan we have an illusion that there is progress. The Americans wish to believe this illusion. But the existence of the illusion is itself the most pertinent fact.”

“You know, the only thing we can do in practice from this terrible situation is to rescue individuals. This I have done – artists, musicians, writers. We have given many political asylum.” He reeled off a few names, which at that time meant nothing to me. “You know,” he concluded, “when you cannot affect the general, you must concentrate on the particular.”

My ambition remained larger. If we couldn’t affect the general, why were we all here?

The French and German embassies each had about thirty diplomatic staff, with counsellors, first secretaries and the full range of a normal embassy. We had just six, all very junior. The Italians were on the same kind of scale as us.

But my Italian colleague’s office was about the size of my embassy, with beautiful thick carpets and expensive furniture. I was shown into his office by three absolutely gorgeous young women, one Italian and two Uzbek, who were a cliché of office sexiness; white low-buttoned blouses exposing a terrific amount of cleavage, hip hugging short black skirts with stockings, shiny black high heels. I wondered if this was an Italian diplomatic uniform, and pondered introducing a dress code into our Embassy.

I was installed at one end of his cavernous office waiting for the Ambassador, who was preceded into the room by a toy white dog which immediately jumped onto my lap and started slavering all over me, tiny paws on my chest, licking my face. I am not very fond of dogs, more of a cat man. The Ambassador came hurrying over, attracting away “Mitzi” with a biscuit. He then sat down in the chair opposite me and smiled.

Leopoldo Ferri de Lazara had the most beatific appearance imaginable. He had snowy white hair and wore a spotless white linen suit over a pale blue shirt with an open wide collar. His smile was concerned and kindly, and he had a perpetual air of being slightly puzzled by where he was and what was going on around him. He looked like someone playing God in an old Jimmy Stewart film. He had previously been Ambassador to Thailand, and had met his present wife there. Several of his ancestors had been Doges of Venice – he had brought their portraits in oil, together with a selection of other contents of his Venetian palace, with him to Tashkent. A few months later his sister was to visit; she was the most tremendous personage, and invitations started arriving to dinners with Countess X – I put X because she had at least 8 titles and surnames, which I can’t possibly remember. Like her brother she was in her early sixties, but she partied like a student, wore designer clothes and tons of jewellery and seemed to have fitted in Tashkent between endless parties with the glitterati at fashionable resorts. Her brother was shy and retiring by comparison, and never used a title or more than two surnames. I grew to like him immensely.

Now, on first acquaintance, we sat there as we sipped tea from paper thin antique china, and Leopoldo eyed me quizzically. He was refreshing to meet because he was much less mealy mouthed than other Ambassadors about the situation in the country. It was dreadful, and getting worse. The Americans, he declared, were stupid if they thought that supporting a dictator like Karimov was a recipe for long term stability. The problem with the Americans, he declared, was not that they failed to learn from history, but that they never understood the complexity of a situation, either at the time or in retrospect. He bemoaned the absence of an EU Delegation in Tashkent. The EU Commission had very little understanding of what was happening in the country, and the influence of the EU was nil.

Leopoldo gave an attractive and civilised critique, but little sign of any spur to action. This was misleading – over the next year he was to become a most valuable and pro-active ally.

The Uzbek government had, on the very day of my arrival, done something extremely baffling. It had physically sealed all its land borders, and closed down all the bazaars in Tashkent. The formal retail sector is very little developed, and the bazaars are simply large open air markets where 95% of consumer needs, from food through clothes to televisions, were retailed. Tashkent had been a major trade centre for thousands of years, and the bazaars were as old as that. Suddenly they were closed.

The government had cited health and safety reasons for the closure. The border closures they justified first on the basis of preventing the spread of disease, then as necessary to prevent an influx of sub-standard consumer goods.

After a couple of weeks it had become clear that this was no temporary measure. Word started to come in from the provinces of bazaars being closed down in other cities. The dislocation effects were extreme – about ten thousand people were directly employed in the bazaars, and probably more in cross-border trade.

Eric Reynolds, a very shrewd Scottish consultant who had been working on an EU project on market management, gave me some valuable insights. The formal retail sector was dominated by Deputy Prime Minister Usmanov, a very powerful figure whose family owned all the main supermarkets and the largest food importing company which had a de facto monopoly on many major commodities, for example sugar. There was no formal monopoly, but all imports needed customs approval and no-one else would get it. His competition came from the small traders who carried on the time honoured baggage trade within Central Asia. Wham! All competition had just vanished.

With shop prices at multiples of bazaar prices, and the lack of competition encouraging shopkeepers to jack up prices further, suddenly people in Tashkent couldn’t afford to eat.

James McGrory and another excellent British consultant, Peter Reddish, who represented the EU Commission in Tashkent, filled me in further. The Uzbek government was under heavy pressure from the IMF and international community to float the currency, the sum. Previously it had been much overvalued, but convertibility into dollars was very strictly controlled. In other words, you could get a ridiculously large amount of dollars for your sum, if you were a member of the regime and could get permission. Otherwise you couldn’t get any.

While not opening up to free conversion, the Uzbek government had started to devalue the sum. This seriously struck at the perks of regime members, and a trade and retail monopoly was a good way of replacing these perks.

Equally, if free currency conversion did come so anyone could buy dollars for sum, the liberalising effect could be negated by sealing the borders, thus not allowing anyone but the favoured few to do anything with dollars if they got them.

It was at just this interesting time that an IMF mission came to town to assess Uzbekistan’s economic progress. If progress was achieved, Uzbekistan would be eligible for a standby agreement and Karimov could get his mitts on hundreds of millions of dollars of IMF money. That seemed to me undesirable.

The IMF mission was blessed with an excellent Russian economist. We had lunch together and he agreed completely with the above analysis. The term of art for “corruption” in the IMF is “economic rent”. The anti-trade measures were a means of transference of access by the elite to economic rent, from currency to trade access, he declared..

All of which caused a problem for the United States. Having firmly adopted Karimov as a client, they were trying very hard to get the IMF to agree to a standby arrangement. The US ambassador had arranged for a lunch with the ambassadors of the G8 to meet the IMF delegation over lunch, and the Russian economist had said he expected some pressure at the lunch, and asked me to back him up.

I had not yet met my US colleague, who had not attended the Independence Day celebrations. His Residence was in a huge traditional Uzbek house, which fronted straight on to the pavement. Uzbek houses are square in design with a large internal courtyard garden. The US Ambassador, John Herbst, greeted me warmly at the door. He was a very tall, gangling man, with long arms and large hands. He had a fine face with a long thin nose, and wore thick black-rimmed spectacles. He had unruly black hair, which he would run his fingers through in thought, leaving it sticking up. There was something of the schoolboy about him.

We were about twenty around the lunch table, which had John Herbst at one end and the head of the visiting IMF mission, a Dutchman named Eric with an extremely bad wig, at the other. Herbst invited a rather nervous lady named Kathleen to make some opening remarks. She was from the US Treasury, and worked as an adviser inside the Uzbek Ministry of Finance. She stressed the progress made in devaluing the sum and in building up foreign reserves, and praised Uzbekistan’s debt repayment record.

Invited to give the mission’s observations, Eric called on the Russian economist to comment. He agreed progress had been made in devaluation, but said that the Uzbeks were nonetheless behind schedule on current account convertibility. But the recent anti-trade measures must be a matter of major concern, and raised fundamental questions about the Uzbek government’s commitment to economic liberalisation. He was immediately backed up by the resident World Bank representative. This was a grave bearded Englishman named David, and he spoke scathingly about the lack of structural reform, particularly on privatisation and utility pricing.

The US Ambassador then suggested the IMF had the choice of saying the glass was half full or half empty. He saw it as half full. If the progress the Uzbeks had made so far was not rewarded, it would be a slap in the face for the reformers in the Uzbek government, who would lose influence. The French Ambassador supported this view, and said that a French company had been given an important contract in cotton trading, which was a start to privatisation.

I should explain why we were pontificating in this way. The IMF is governed by a board composed of the member nations, rather like the UN is governed by a Security Council. The US and the other major contributors from the G8 have the most weight on the board. The IMF staff – as represented by Erik and his mission – would present a report with recommendations, in this case on Uzbekistan and the prospects for a standby agreement. But it would be the board members who made the decision, which is why we were discussing it now. Our home governments would decide on how the board would vote – in the case of the UK, the Treasury and DFID would have the most say. But as western governments are not full of experts on Uzbekistan, the report and recommendations sent back by their Ambassadors in Tashkent, following this lunch, would have a big influence on the decision.

Erik had a fine line to tread. He had to come up with something intellectually credible, and square this with the desire of the IMF’s biggest shareholder – the USA – for a positive report, at a time when the Uzbek government was busily ruining its own economy. He also had to produce a public statement agreed with the government of Uzbekistan, which after all was a member of the IMF too.

As the very new kid on the block, I had not yet said anything, which had the advantage that I was able to do some justice to my excellent lunch. Erik was now talking, and saying that the Uzbek government was claiming a current economic growth rate of 8%. This brought laughter around the table. Erik then said that they were negotiating a figure with the Uzbek government and thought that their report would say 3% growth.

I was startled into interrupting.
“I’m sorry?”
“Three per cent, Ambassador. I think the Uzbek government will agree a figure of three per cent.”
“Well, maybe they will, but it can’t be true. I have been visiting a lot of companies since I came, and talking to people active in various areas of the economy, and I haven’t met one person who doesn’t think this economy is shrinking, not growing.”
“I agree”, said Leopoldo, “if you wanted an example of how to ruin an economy, then the Uzbek government provides it.”
Eric temporised: “Well, the difficulty is there are no independent institutions providing economic statistics, and I certainly agree that government statistics can be misleading. But if you are forced to rely on anecdotal evidence, that is not very reliable either. But consider this. This is largely an agricultural economy. Agriculture accounts for more than sixty per cent of gross domestic product. Last year there was a very bad harvest, of both cotton and grains. This year there is a harvest – well, let’s not say good, but fair. That already will give you a lot of economic growth.”

John Herbst was eyeballing me in a less than friendly manner. “Well, I think that is a very logical explanation on the economic growth point. Let us look at devaluation now…”

I didn’t listen to his next few words because I was perusing rapidly a table of statistics David had passed across to me. What were they? Judging by David’s eyebrows, there was a killer fact in here somewhere. What the hell was it? Oh…

“I am sorry, John”, I said, “I just want to clarify something that perhaps I didn’t understand on the growth figures. Eric, you said that agriculture was 60% of the economy, so that there must be growth this year due to a good harvest, while last year was a bad harvest. Did I understand you?”
Eric, who was trying to eat some of his lunch, looked up and nodded.
“But,” I continued, “By the same logic, last year there must have been a fall because of the very bad harvest. Yet I see the IMF posted a figure last year of four per cent economic growth. Now that just can’t be true, can it?”

Erik looked at his papers. “Well, in logic it would be possible if there was also a very bad harvest in the preceding year.”
“But there wasn’t”, said Leopoldo. “It was a good harvest.”
The ensuing silence was broken by the German Ambassador, Martin Hecker. “Evidently our young British colleague is an economist. We should be grateful for our number to be augmented in such a fashion. But perhaps we should also remember that Uzbekistan is not Washington or London, or perhaps I might even say, Berlin. The application of logic does not always apply. Indeed we may say,” he gave a discreet sound between a laugh and a cough “that in the situation we have here in Uzbekistan, logic cannot be a suitable diagnostic approach because the situation itself is not rational. What is required is a more holistic approach, based perhaps on a broader understanding and experience.”

Which meant let’s bend the facts. That is what the international community has done, consistently. The World Bank states that from 1993 to 2003 Uzbek GDP fell from 13.1 million dollars to 9.9 million dollars. Yet the IMF has accepted a positive growth figure for all but one of those years, and an average growth figure of 3.2% in this period. The best bit is that the World Bank still carries both figures in impossible combination in its Uzbekistan briefing paper.

The lunch established my reputation for being difficult and outspoken, while convincing me that the US were willing to bend any fact in defence of their ally, Karimov. It also made me very popular with the IMF staff, including Eric, who was used to being pressured by ambassadors to be soft rather than hard.

The following day I made my courtesy call on John Herbst. There were about sixty diplomats at the US Embassy, in addition to all the non-diplomatic staff, the military, the advisers in Uzbek government ministries, and a large number of US Aid funded American personnel. The Uzbek Karshi Khanabad airbase, known as K2, used to be one of the largest in the Soviet Union. It now housed three squadrons of the United States Air Force, guarded by a couple of thousand US troops. Halliburton, Dick Cheney’s company, had contractors building the improved airbase facilities and extending the aprons to take more planes. Halliburton were assigned their own US marine guards. Herbst had a big job, an important part of which was keeping the Uzbek government sweet.

The K2 airbase had been useful for supporting US operations in Afghanistan. Now that the Americans had Baghram airbase in Kabul and access to other Afghan airfields, K2 was no longer necessary for this purpose. But the US had been cock-a-hoop at taking over a major Soviet airbase, and were now preparing for a permanent stay.

The Pentagon had formulated a new doctrine to ensure control of the “Wider Middle East”. By that, they meant the Middle East as we understand it, plus the Caucasus and Central Asia, which is of course a massive belt of oil and gas resources. This “Wider Middle East” is to be surrounded by “Lily pads”. These are air bases which have a permanent garrison but the potential to “open out” – be rapidly expanded to take reinforcement for a massive projection of US military force anywhere throughout the area. The giant airbase at K2 was the easternmost, and one of the most important, of these lily pads. So the US relationship with Uzbekistan was essential to a much wider geo-strategic plan.

The FCO described this to me as essential to the security of Western hydrocarbon supplies. I viewed it as essential to keeping oil prices down and ensuring the World’s very limited hydrocarbon supplies were guzzled as soon as possible, largely by the US, with disastrous results in terms of carbon dioxide emissions and global warming. So you will gather I was a bit sceptical about all of this.

To house the vastly expanded US operation, a giganticnew Embassy was being constructed in Tashkent. Meantime they had crammed five times more people into their Embassy building, and I was escorted through numerous layers of security by US marines until I met John Herbst in the tiny attic office, overflowing with books, to which he had retreated in the face of a flood of new staff.

John Herbst is a career diplomat, unlike most US Ambassadors who are party donors. But no-one is going to give a million dollars to the Republican Party to be made Ambassador to Uzbekistan. John is a deeply intellectual man, who is basically shy and lacks social skills. I was surprised by how disliked I found he was by almost all of his senior diplomatic staff. Much of that came down to policy – the majority of them were decent people, and up close the Karimov regime is so obnoxious that co-operating with it would make any decent person choke. John though was a true believer, whose heart was entirely in the Bush agenda, and was particularly keen on the fact that Karimov was such a strong supporter of Israel. The Israeli Ambassador told me on the day we both presented our credentials that that Karimov had been a good personal friend of Sharon for over twenty years.

Now John and I started by going over the economic arguments about the IMF again. He has a disconcerting habit of pausing to consider his reply when engaged in thought about the argument, and these pauses can be really long – about twenty seconds. Most of us cover these moments with empty phrases while we think, but he didn’t bother. I had got used to this by the time we got on to human rights.

John argued that the human rights situation was improving. He said that the abolition of the office of censor, earlier that summer, had been a major advance.

“But what are you talking about?” I replied, “The media is completely censored. There is absolutely no real news at all – it’s the most arrant propaganda.”
“Well, Craig, I don’t know how extensive you’re research has been. But we have a major media project, and there have been a couple of articles in the regional press which have been critical of the decisions of regional officials. And Ruslan Sharipov has published articles attacking government corruption”
“That hardly affects the general picture – they sound like exceptions that prove the rule, from the very fact that you can list the only articles that aren’t government propaganda. But the human rights situation is desperate. Do you realise how many torture cases there are now documented?”
“If you are referring to the boiling case, I know you’re making a big thing of it too, and we are very concerned. But it is an isolated incident. I have never heard of a parallel case. And there has been a real advance on torture. In the Ferghana Valley, three policemen have been convicted of the murder of a detainee. That was after a case which I took up personally with Karimov. That is undoubtedly real progress. Previously officials have been completely immune from any fear of retribution. Nothing will do more to change the behaviour of the police and security services.”
“I still think that is a drop in the ocean. Human Rights Watch and other NGOs reckon there are some 7,000 prisoners of conscience, held for political and religious beliefs. I must say from my own research I am starting to think that is an underestimate.”
“Yes, but most of those are Muslims.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I mean Muslim extremists. Most of those prisoners are Muslim extremists. You know, Karimov has a genuine problem that you can’t ignore. He faced armed incursions from the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan. These bad guys really exist. They are not imaginary. You know, we are all caught up in the War on Terror. We didn’t want to be. Nobody in the USA asked for the Twin Towers to be attacked. But we find ourselves defending our very lifestyle. And Karimov is part of that defence.”
“Yes, but all the evidence is that the vast majority of those in jail aren’t terrorists at all. I don’t think they are extremists. Even the ones convicted of membership of Hizb-ut-Tehrir mostly aren’t really members. The evidence is planted. Most of them are just in jail for following their religion. They aren’t extremists.”
“You don’t think the Taliban were extreme?”
“Yes, I think the Taliban were extreme.”
“Well think about it. Most of these guys who were locked up, if they were in power they would impose the same kind of society. Have you ever been to Broadway? That’s what they call the kind of recreational area there. I like to sit on Broadway and have a quiet beer, watching the pretty Uzbek girls go buy in T shirts and skirts. You know, this society is Western in some ways. If these guys in jail got their way, you would have none of it. No Broadway, no beer, no T shirts, certainly no mini skirts.”
“Look, accepting for a moment that those in jail do want that – and I think that’s open to doubt – if that’s what they want, they are entitled to their view, as long as they don’t turn to violence to try to achieve it. I don’t call them extremists.”
“Well, that’s where we differ. A fully Islamic society, with Sharia law, is extremist. Extreme Islam is itself a kind of institutionalised violence. Do you realise how much women would be oppressed if the Islamists got into power? You know, I had six US congressmen visiting here this week. They were given a briefing on human rights by Mikhail Ardzinov of the Independent Human Rights Organisation of Uzbekistan. He told those congressmen, straight out, that most of these so called prisoners of conscience - not just most, the large majority he said, the large majority – ought to be in prison. Now here’s another step forward, Ardzinov’s organisation has been registered and is fully legal”
“I’m beginning to see why.”
“That’s really not fair. Ardzinov has a very brave record over many years.”
“I look at this another way. People are being locked up because they are Muslim. So are other political dissidents, but most prisoners are locked up for being Islamic. There are no fair trials, and there is a lot of torture in the prisons. We are being seen to support this regime, so we are making Muslims hate us. We are provoking terrorism, not fighting it.”

John looked weary, as though he had heard this all before.

“Look,” he said, “Karimov’s got to keep a tight grip on the Muslims. He also wants to drive forward a reform agenda, but he’s facing a lot of resistance from within the governing party. And his biggest problem is his own training. Karimov is a Soviet trained economist. The problem is he thinks he understands economics, but all he knows is a lot of false precepts. Karimov is the best Uzbek leader we’ll get, and he’s not personally corrupt.”

The bit about Karimov not being personally corrupt really did throw me. Herbst was understandably keen to put the best possible gloss on the regime, but this bit about Karimov was so far at variance with all received information from other sources, it really did make me wonder just how out of touch Herbst was.

It lay a year in the future, but Sharipov as a result of the critical articles John quoted was framed and convicted on charges of under-age sex, while his defence lawyer, Surat Ikramov, was kidnapped outside the courtroom, bound and gagged. He was then driven into the countryside, murderously beaten, and left for dead in a ditch, but survived. By that time, the members of the security forces convicted of murdering the detainee, had been released.

Our allotted hour was up and both John and I had other appointments. We would have plenty of occasions to resume this conversation.

My next call was on Azimov, the Minister for Economic Affairs. I wanted to meet him before sending off my telegram about what to do at the IMF. He was touted by the Americans as a leading reformer, and certainly looked like an Italian banker, with his sharp silk suits and American accent. He stressed the progress made on devaluation and foreign currency reserves.

I pressed him on why there had been almost no progress on privatisation, and particularly annoyed him by describing most of the privatisation as false, involving shifting of assets between entities which were all ultimately state-owned. He replied with a barrage of statistics which were patently false – I wondered how on earth he could trot them out with a straight face, but I suppose it was Soviet training.

He got pretty angry when I questioned why the borders were closed. He simply denied they were closed. I told him I had visited several border crossing points myself, as had other EU embassies, and they were indeed shut. He looked at me levelly.
“You are mistaken.” He said. “They are not closed. They are controlled.”

He really got angry when I asked him when there would be a move to privatisation in the cotton industry. No country, he declared, would allow the privatisation of its most important industry. I told him that statement was simply wrong, and further pointed out that Kazakhstan next door had privatised its cotton industry, resulting in a threefold increase of production very quickly. Azimov became very quiet and intense.

“That is untrue. Any increase is due only to criminals smuggling Uzbek cotton.”
“I don’t think that’s true. As you know, the cotton is mostly sold through the Liverpool Cotton Exchange. The figures on increasing Kazakh production come from the traders. Anyway privatisation is the answer to smuggling. Cotton sells for the market price in Kazakhstan, that’s why it gets smuggled there. If you had a market price here it wouldn’t be smuggled.”
“Ambassador, this is not Poland. Privatisation here would lead to mass unemployment and social collapse. You know, I am a Director of the European Bank for Economic Reconstruction and Development. I am the longest serving director. Let me tell you this. Poland only survived privatisation because it received eighteen billion dollars of economic assistance from the West. We have received almost nothing.”

It was very much Azimov’s style to blind you with statistics and his air of great assurance, but yet again he was talking complete rubbish. Having run the economic section of the British Embassy in Warsaw, I knew this stuff.
“I am sorry, Minister,” I said, “But you’re simply mistaken. Poland didn’t receive one billion dollars, let alone eighteen. Besides I don’t think it would have helped. East Germany did receive massive transfers, and Poland didn’t. Yet Poland grew quicker than East Germany. Other factors are far more important, like labour costs and deregulation. In fact I would argue too much subsidy can be harmful.”
Azimov sat back, a satisfied look on his face: “There is no point in arguing with someone who simply follows the dogma of the economic liberal.”

It was shortly September 11, 2002 – the first anniversary of the destruction of the Twin Towers. I was invited to a commemoration held by the US Embassy in the ballroom of the Intercontinental Hotel in Tashkent. I attended with mixed feelings. Of course I felt unalloyed sorrow and even despair at the heartlessness of this terrorist act. Yet the United States was using this horror to provide a screen for pushing its very material interests in oil and gas. In Uzbekistan this took the form of giving strong backing to a very unpleasant dictatorship. I had, in just one month, seen how that regime operated close-up, in the Khuderbegainov trial and in the case of the dissidents boiled to death. I had also seen Colin Powell, astonishingly, certify Uzbekistan’s human rights record to Congress as acceptable, and seen the US protect Uzbekistan from justified criticism in the IMF over its continued Soviet and increasingly kleptocratic economic policy.

Security was very heavy, and after a long queue for the metal detectors I entered the ballroom, and had a coke and some cashew nuts, while saying a few polite but sombre words to diplomatic colleagues. The ceremony was simple – John Herbst read out some words about the atrocity and the evils of terrorism, supported by Uzbek Foreign Minister Komilov. A tape was played of a mobile telephone call from the twin towers suddenly cutting off, which I felt was rather over the top. But despite my cynicism I was moved at the thought of all that death and what looked like more death to come, and I shed more than one tear.

For the next few days I struggled with my conviction that in supporting Karimov the US had got its Central Asian policy thoroughly wrong, and that we were wrong to follow the US. I knew that as Ambassador it was my duty to inform Jack Straw and Whitehall of my view. But I was also aware that my view would be acutely unpopular, especially with my own immediate line manager, Simon Butt, and with 10 Downing Street. I knew that to say what I wanted to say was likely to damage my career pretty severely. I talked it over with Fiona, who said that I should remember my obligation to supporting my children, but she appreciated my conscience must come first. She then rather sourly concluded that she did not know why I was consulting her as I always did what I wanted anyway.

In this period I received in my office a young analyst named Duncan from the FCO’s Research Analysts. Stuart Horsman was the analyst who dealt specifically with Central Asia, and Duncan was a colleague who shared a room with Stuart. He was researching regional security issues in the former Soviet Union. He was most concerned about the threat of increasing Islamic militarism in Uzbekistan, feeding through into international terrorism.

I was relieved to find that Duncan shared my analysis. He felt that the Karimov regime had no intention of adopting real reform, was completely beyond the pale on human rights, and was creating a tinderbox through harsh repression leading to resentment and reaction. He was the first to point out to me that the neo-conservatives in the Bush camp, particularly the so-called intellectuals of the religious right, were talking of a United States-Israel-Uzbek axis driving a military wedge into the heart of Islam – thinking picked up by Donald Rumsfeld in his “Lily pad” policy of air bases surrounding, in effect, the Muslim world.

Duncan told me that Research Analysts despaired of our blind support for Bush in Central Asia, which had somehow been subsumed into the US notion of the “Wider Middle East”. Eastern Department held a radically different view from Research Analysts and were, driven by Simon Butt and Dominic Schroeder, blindly “Atlanticist” or pro-American. The policy of backing nasty dictators was bound to rebound on us – it always does - but they just couldn’t see it.

FCO Research Analysts have a key role in assimilating material from media, academic and other open sources, combining it with diplomatic reporting and intelligence material and then analysing and assessing it. To give an idea of their role, they lead in discussions between Whitehall and the United States National Security Agency. They play an important role at the Joint Intelligence Committee and its sub-committees.

They would therefore have been central to the preparation of the dossier on Weapons of Mass Destruction in Iraq. I had always found our Research Analysts to be very bright, with a strong reputation in the academic world and a lot of personal integrity. It was therefore beyond me how they had signed up, as they must have, to the dossier. I asked my visitor whether it was the rubbish it seemed or whether there was knockdown evidence I was unaware of. He said the dossier was indeed the rubbish it seemed. There were no Iraqi WMD. History has proven him right.

I hadn’t asked the next question, but it hung in the air between us.
“You’re wondering why we signed up to it?” he asked. “Well, I can promise you it was awful. The pressure was unbelievable. People were threatened with the end of their careers. I saw analysts in tears. We felt, as a group, absolutely shafted. Actually we still do. You know, I think we are all a bit ashamed that nobody had the guts to go public, resign and say that the WMD thing is a myth. But you know MI6 really hyped it. The DIS (Defence Intelligence Service) tried to block it but they couldn’t.”

On 16 September I locked myself in my office and spent the first half of the morning writing a long telegram on the IMF and Uzbek economic policy, specifically stating that we should oppose, within the IMF and other international financial institutions, attempts by the United States to get an easy ride for Uzbekistan, particularly as they were based on false claims about progress in economic reform.

I then drank a cup of coffee, went to the loo, stared out of the window, and sucked on my pen before starting my next telegram. Once I started it came fluently, and my fingers on the keyboard could not keep up with my thoughts. It contained in a few paragraphs the concentrated essence of a month’s experience in Tashkent, a month’s thinking and soul-searching. This is what I wrote:

FM Tashkent
TO FCO, Cabinet Office, DFID, MODUK, OSCE Posts, Security Council Posts
16 September 02

SUBJECT: US/Uzbekistan: Promoting Terrorism

SUMMARY

1. US plays down human rights situation in Uzbekistan. A dangerous policy: Increasing repression combined with poverty will promote Islamic terrorism. Support to Karimov regime a bankrupt and cynical policy.

DETAIL

2. The Economist of 7 September states: “Uzbekistan, in particular, has jailed many thousands of moderate Islamists, an excellent way of converting their families and friends to extremism.” The Economist also spoke of “the growing despotism of Mr Karimov” and judged that “the past year has seen a further deterioration of an already grim human rights record”. I agree.

3. Between 7,000 and 10,000 political and religious prisoners are currently detained, many after trials before kangaroo courts with no representation. Terrible torture is commonplace: the EU is currently considering a demarche over the terrible case of two Muslims tortured to death in jail apparently with boiling water. Two leading dissidents, Elena Urlaeva and Larissa Vdovna, were two weeks ago committed to a lunatic asylum, where they are being drugged, for demonstrating on human rights. Opposition political parties remain banned. There is no doubt that September 11 gave the pretext to crack down still harder on dissent under the guise of counter-terrorism.

4. Yet on 8 September the US State Department certified that Uzbekistan was improving in both human rights and democracy, thus fulfilling a constitutional requirement and allowing the continuing disbursement of $140 million of US aid to Uzbekistan this year. Human Rights Watch immediately published a commendably sober and balanced rebuttal of the State Department claim.

5. Again we are back in the area of the US accepting sham reform [a reference to my previous telegram on the economy]. In August media censorship was abolished, and theoretically there are independent media outlets, but in practice there is absolutely no criticism of President Karimov or the central government in any Uzbek media. State Department call this self-censorship: I am not sure that is a fair way to describe an unwillingness to experience the brutal methods of the security services.

6. Similarly, following US pressure when Karimov visited Washington, a human rights NGO has been permitted to register. This is an advance, but they have little impact given that no media are prepared to cover any of their activities or carry any of their statements.

7. The final improvement State quote is that in one case of murder of a prisoner the police involved have been prosecuted. That is an improvement, but again related to the Karimov visit and does not appear to presage a general change of policy. On the latest cases of torture deaths the Uzbeks have given the OSCE an incredible explanation, given the nature of the injuries, that the victims died in a fight between prisoners.

8. But allowing a single NGO, a token prosecution of police officers and a fake press freedom cannot possibly outweigh the huge scale of detentions, the torture and the secret executions. President Karimov has admitted to 100 executions a year but human rights groups believe there are more. Added to this, all opposition parties remain banned (the President got a 98% vote) and the Internet is strictly controlled. All Internet providers must go through a single government server and access is barred to many sites including all dissident and opposition sites and much international media (including, ironically, waronterrorism.com). This is in essence still a totalitarian state: there is far less freedom than still prevails, for example, in Mugabe’s Zimbabwe. A Movement for Democratic Change or any judicial independence would be impossible here.

9. Karimov is a dictator who is committed to neither political nor economic reform. The purpose of his regime is not the development of his country but the diversion of economic rent to his oligarchic supporters through government controls. As a senior Uzbek academic told me privately, there is more repression here now than in Brezhnev’s time. The US are trying to prop up Karimov economically and to justify this support they need to claim that a process of economic and political reform is underway. That they do so claim is either cynicism or self-delusion.

10. This policy is doomed to failure. Karimov is driving this resource-rich country towards economic ruin like an Abacha. And the policy of increasing repression aimed indiscriminately at pious Muslims, combined with a deepening poverty, is the most certain way to ensure continuing support for the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan. They have certainly been decimated and disorganised in Afghanistan, and Karimov’s repression may keep the lid on for years – but pressure is building and could ultimately explode.

11. I quite understand the interest of the US in strategic airbases and why they back Karimov, but I believe US policy is misconceived. In the short term it may help fight terrorism but in the medium term it will promote it, as the Economist points out. And it can never be right to lower our standards on human rights. There is a complex situation in Central Asia and it is wrong to look at it only through a prism picked up on September 12. Worst of all is what appears to be the philosophy underlying the current US view of Uzbekistan: that September 11 divided the World into two camps in the “War against Terrorism” and that Karimov is on “our” side.

12. If Karimov is on “our” side, then this war cannot be simply between the forces of good and evil. It must be about more complex things, like securing the long-term US military presence in Uzbekistan. I silently wept at the 11 September commemoration here. The right words on New York have all been said. But last week was also another anniversary – the US-led overthrow of Salvador Allende in Chile. The subsequent dictatorship killed, dare I say it, rather more people than died on September 11. Should we not remember them also, and learn from that too? I fear that we are heading down the same path of US-sponsored dictatorship here. It is ironic that the beneficiary is perhaps the most unreformed of the World’s old communist leaders.

13. We need to think much more deeply about Central Asia. It is easy to place Uzbekistan in the “too difficult” tray and let the US run with it, but I think they are running in the wrong direction. We should tell them of the dangers we see. Our policy is theoretically one of engagement, but in practice this has not meant much. Engagement makes sense, but it must mean grappling with the problems, not mute collaboration. We need to start actively to state a distinctive position on democracy and human rights, and press for a realistic view to be taken in the IMF. We should continue to resist pressures to start a bilateral DFID programme, unless channelled non-governmentally, and not restore ECGD cover despite the constant lobbying. We should not invite Karimov to the UK. We should step up our public diplomacy effort, stressing democratic values, including more resources from the British Council. We should increase support to human rights activists, and strive for contact with non-official Islamic groups.

14. Above all we need to care about the 22 million Uzbek people, suffering from poverty and lack of freedom. They are not just pawns in the new Great Game.

MURRAY

In retrospect I am surprised that my analysis was so fully formed in just a month – it stands up now as well as it did then. It is also interesting that I felt the need to call the Economist magazine in aid to support my assertions. It is important to understand the background to this telegram. We had just fought a war in neighbouring Afghanistan and were gearing towards another in Iraq. Tony Blair had staked all on standing “Shoulder to shoulder” with George W Bush, and the war on terror and the righteousness of the US cause were unquestionable. I was going way out on a limb and felt the need to show that, at least outside Whitehall, some highly respectable, informed opinion was with me.

After I had sent it, I walked through to Chris Hirst’s office. Chris was squatting on the floor, going through some documents in a cupboard.
“I know the bastard’s here somewhere.” He said, standing up. I handed him the telegram, saying he might like to look at it. He looked dubious, but his interest grew as he read through it, becoming increasingly absorbed. He finished and handed it back, shaking his head.
“Well, what do you think?” I asked.
“Pretty long for a resignation letter”, he said.

It was not many days before the attack from my line management came, in the form of a letter from Simon Butt. He was concerned, he wrote, that I was “over-focussed on human rights”, to the detriment of the balance of UK interests in Uzbekistan. He was also most concerned that I was discussing human rights cases in open email correspondence, and making comments about the Uzbek government, in emails and on open phone lines, which were likely to be intercepted by the Uzbek Security Services and thus damage the UK/Uzbek relationship. My performance was causing concern, and would be closely monitored.

So it is not ACTUALLY banned. And there is only SPECULATION that the government might want to ban it.

Nice sales pitch, but using lies to sell a book that's supposedly about the truth is rather ironic - and sad.

nice comment QWERTY.
but surely what's happening in Uzbekistan is a tad more important. Folk here seem to need a little encouragement to look at the area. Our government is intimately involved in the contravention of basic human rights in Uzbekistan, and in a cover up of any details- rendition etc- that occasionally escape into our emasculated press.
read the book folk!

"but surely what's happening in Uzbekistan is a tad more important. "

It _is_ important, hence the need to present the information free from deliberate distortions of the truth and hysteria that detracts from the message. If you use false claims and exagerations to draw attention to information, people will assume that the information is also riddled with false claims and exagerations.

...yes my love, of course.

But a book, any book, should surely stand or fall on its own merits.
Who takes PR/Advertising seriously? If we interpred all books, or TV shows etc, through the prism of their own hype, all would fail...
now. darling. i have no idea who you are. Perhaps you want to live in a world without a hard sales pitch. Or sponsership or advertising.....But that's not where we live.
And this little book, to refer obliquely to Ovid, is going out into just such a world, of titflashing, arse showing, ratings raising sales merchants....

I repeat- let the book stand or fall on its own merits, and if Craig Murray wants to dance the conga down whitehall naked to raise publicity for it, so what?

I have aslo saved Chapter 10 on a new Blog site as Craig said it woud be available for one day only. After 01.09.2005 you can either read it here or at:

 http://craigmurraybook.blogspot.com/

We must never forget how ruthless the ruling class can be to protect their wealth and power(and oil!).Both the USA and UK use countries like Uzbekistan to do their dirty work for them (torturing "terrorists") that they ship out there for that very purpose (the USA - CIA probably do this fo the UK governement to cover their backs).

Neil

I saw a video at the rampART which contained an interview with Murrey and photos of the bodies of the people boiled alive. It was not a public viewing but I guess that if people showed an interest then the rampART could be encouraged to put on a screening. It really was quite amazing stuff coming from this murrey guy who seemed very genuine. perhaps email  rampart@mutualaid.org and ask them to put on a screening.

QWERTY - the notion that the government is intent on banning the book is based on solid evidence. Whether you consider several letters and a phone call to the author saying that legal action will be taken if he publishes meets the criteria of banned I will leave to you.

The posting that described it as a "banned book" did not come from Criag Murray but from LFCM.