|
Bribes Corrode Afghans Trust in Government
|
|
 |
The mansions of
Afghan officials in
the Sherpur
neighborhood of
Kabul are a
curiosity not only
for their size, but
also because
government salaries
are not very big.
|
|
|
KABUL, Afghanistan (By Dexter
Filkins, NYTimes) January 2, 2009 — When it comes to governing this violent,
fractious land, everything, it seems, has its price.
Want to be a provincial police chief? It will cost you $100,000.
Want to drive a convoy of trucks loaded with fuel across the country? Be
prepared to pay $6,000 per truck, so the police will not tip off the Taliban.
Need to settle a lawsuit over the ownership of your house? About $25,000,
depending on the judge.
“It is very shameful, but probably I will pay the bribe,” Mohammed Naim, a young
English teacher, said as he stood in front of the Secondary Courthouse in Kabul.
His brother had been arrested a week before, and the police were demanding
$4,000 for his release. “Everything is possible in this country now.
Everything.”
Kept afloat by billions of dollars in American and other foreign aid, the
government of Afghanistan is shot through with corruption and graft. From the
lowliest traffic policeman to the family of President Hamid Karzai himself, the
state built on the ruins of the Taliban government seven years ago now often
seems to exist for little more than the enrichment of those who run it.
A raft of investigations has concluded that people at the highest levels of the
Karzai administration, including President Karzai’s own brother, Ahmed Wali
Karzai, are cooperating in the country’s opium trade, now the world’s largest.
In the streets and government offices, hardly a public transaction seems to
unfold here that does not carry with it the requirement of a bribe, a gift, or,
in case you are a beggar, “harchee” — whatever you have in your pocket.
The corruption, publicly acknowledged by President Karzai, is contributing to
the collapse of public confidence in his government and to the resurgence of the
Taliban, whose fighters have moved to the outskirts of Kabul, the capital.
“All the politicians in this country have acquired everything — money, lots of
money,” President Karzai said in a speech at a rural development conference here
in November. “God knows, it is beyond the limit. The banks of the world are full
of the money of our statesmen.”
The decay of the Afghan government presents President-elect Barack Obama with
perhaps his most underappreciated challenge as he tries to reverse the course of
the war here. Mr. Obama may be required to save the Afghan government not only
from the Taliban insurgency — committing thousands of additional American
soldiers to do so — but also from itself.
“This government has lost the capacity to govern because a shadow government has
taken over,” said Ashraf Ghani, a former Afghan finance minister. He quit that
job in 2004, he said, because the state had been taken over by drug traffickers.
“The narco-mafia state is now completely consolidated,” he said.
On the streets here, tales of corruption are as easy to find as kebab stands.
Everything seems to be for sale: public offices, access to government services,
even a person’s freedom. The examples mentioned above — $25,000 to settle a
lawsuit, $6,000 to bribe the police, $100,000 to secure a job as a provincial
police chief — were offered by people who experienced them directly or witnessed
the transaction.
People pay bribes for large things, and for small things, too: to get
electricity for their homes, to get out of jail, even to enter the airport.
Governments in developing countries are often riddled with corruption. But
Afghans say the corruption they see now has no precedent, in either its
brazenness or in its scale. Transparency International, a German organization
that gauges honesty in government, ranked Afghanistan 117 out of 180 countries
in 2005. This year, it fell to 176.
“Every man in the government is his own king,” said Abdul Ghafar, a truck
driver. Mr. Ghafar said he routinely paid bribes to the police who threatened to
hinder his passage through Kabul, sometimes several in a day.
Nowhere is the scent of corruption so strong as in the Kabul neighborhood of
Sherpur. Before 2001, it was a vacant patch of hillside that overlooked the
stately neighborhood of Wazir Akbar Khan. Today it is the wealthiest enclave in
the country, with gaudy, grandiose mansions that cost hundreds of thousands of
dollars.
Afghans refer to them as “poppy houses.” Sherpur itself is often jokingly
referred to as “Char-pur,” which literally means “City of Loot.”
Yet what is perhaps most remarkable about Sherpur is that many of the homeowners
are government officials, whose annual salaries would not otherwise enable them
to live here for more than a few days.
One of the mansions — three stories, several bedrooms, sweeping balconies — is
owned by Abdul Jabbar Sabit, a former attorney general who made a name for
himself by declaring a “jihad” against corruption.
After he was fired earlier this year by President Karzai, a video began
circulating around town showing Mr. Sabit dancing giddily around a room and
slurring his words, apparently drunk. Mr. Sabit now lives in Canada, but his
house is available to rent for $5,000 a month.
An even grander mansion — ornate faux Greek columns, a towering fountain — is
owned by Kabul’s police chief, Mohammed Ayob Salangi. It can be had for $11,000
a month. Mr. Salangi’s salary is unknown; that of Mr. Karzai, the president, is
about $600 a month.
Mr. Ghani, the former finance minister, said the plots of land on which the
mansions of Sherpur stand were doled out early in the Karzai administration for
prices that were a tiny fraction of what they were worth. (Mr. Ghani said he was
offered a plot, too, and refused to accept it.)
“The money for these houses was illegal, I think,” said Mohammed Yosin Usmani,
director general of a newly created anticorruption unit.
Often, the corruption here is blatant. On any morning, you can stand on the
steps of the Secondary Courthouse in downtown Kabul and listen to the Afghans as
they step outside.
One of them was Farooq Farani, who has been coming to the court for seven years,
trying to resolve a property dispute. His predicament is a common one here: He
fled the country in 1990, as the civil war began, and returned after the fall of
the Taliban, only to find a stranger occupying his home.
Yet seven years later, the title to Mr. Farani’s house is still up for grabs.
Mr. Farani said he had refused to pay the bribes demanded by the judge in the
case, who in turn had refused to settle his case.
“You are approached indirectly, by intermediaries — this is how it works,” said
Mr. Farani, who spent his exile in Wiesbaden, Germany. “My house is worth about
$50,000, and I’ve been told that I can have the title if I pay $25,000 — half
the value of the home.”
Tales like Mr. Farani’s abound here, so much so that it makes one wonder if an
honest man can ever make a difference.
Amin Farhang, the minister of commerce, was voted out of Mr. Karzai’s cabinet by
Parliament earlier last month for failing to bring down the price of oil in
Afghanistan as the price declined in international markets. In a long talk in
the sitting room of his home, Mr. Farhang recounted a two-year struggle to fire
the man in charge of giving out licenses for new businesses.
The man, Mr. Farhang said, would grant a license only in exchange for a hefty
bribe. But Mr. Farhang found that he was unable to fire the man, who, he said,
simply bribed other members of the government to reinstate him.
“In a job like this, a man can make 10 or 12 times his salary,” Mr. Farhang
said. “People do anything to hang on to them.”
Many Afghans, including Mr. Ghani, the former finance minister, place
responsibility for the collapse of the state on Mr. Karzai, who, they say, has
failed repeatedly to confront the powerful figures who are behind much of the
corruption. In his stint as finance minister, Mr. Ghani said, two moments
crystallized his disgust and finally prompted him to quit.
The first, Mr. Ghani said, was his attempt to impose order on Kabul’s chaotic
system of private property rights. The Afghan government had accumulated vast
amounts of land during the period of Communist rule in the 1970s and 1980s. And
since 2001, the government has given much of it away — often, Mr. Ghani said, to
shady developers at extremely low prices.
Much of that land has been sold and developed, rendering much of Kabul’s
property in the hands of unknown owners. Many of the developers who were given
free land, Mr. Ghani said, were also involved in drug trafficking.
When he proposed drawing up a set of regulations to govern private property, Mr.
Ghani said, he was told by President Karzai to stop.
“ ‘Just back off,” he told me,’ ” Mr. Ghani said. “He said that politically it
wasn’t feasible.”
A similar effort to impose regulations at the Ministry of Aviation, which Mr.
Ghani described as rife with corruption, was met with a similar response by
President Karzai, he said.
“Morally the question was, am I becoming the fig leaf to legitimate a system
that was deeply corrupt? Or was I there to serve the people?” Mr. Ghani said. “I
resigned.”
Mr. Ghani, who then became chancellor of Kabul University, is today
contemplating a run for the presidency.
Asked about Mr. Ghani’s account on Thursday, Humayun Hamidzada, a spokesman for
Mr. Karzai, said he could not immediately comment.
The corruption may be endemic here, but if there is any hope in the future, it
would seem to lie in the revulsion of average Afghans like Mr. Farani, who,
after seven years, is still refusing to pay.
“I won’t do it,” Mr. Farani said outside the courthouse. “It’s a matter of
principle. Never.”
“But,” he said, “I don’t have my house, either, and I don’t know that I ever
will.”
| |
|