Iraq and Kurdistan: Double standards
It is hard to convince the world that Kurdistan differs from Iraq. This starts at the Turkish Airlines check-in counter at Amsterdam airport, where the clerk asks passengers if they have visas for Iraqi Kurdistan. Somehow, the airline has failed to inform staff that European and American passengers to Erbil and Sulaimani receive entry on arrival and are in no need of an Iraqi visa.
Even my journalist colleagues do not make the differentiation. They were not interested in a story about the Erbil attack, considering that bombs explode daily in Iraq. I wanted to scream that Iraqi Kurdistan is the safe part, and bombs are not a daily occurrence there. And yet again, I was not too sad about “Erbil” not making it into the really top headlines; this way the attack would not greatly tarnish its status as a quiet hub.
Westerners hear the name Iraq and think of bombs and violence. My Dutch guests, whom I took around Kurdistan last month, told me that family members and friends were not too happy about the trip. Only travellers know that Kurdistan is safe enough for adventurous tourism, and that from here the violence of Iraq seems a long way away.
They are the best promoters for the country, as they see the progress, the building boom and the nature. They go back home marvelling at the hospitality, the easy contacts with the Kurds, the food and the beauty of the country. Safety is not an issue.
At the same time most of them think it is exciting to pass through Iraqi territory on the way to Duhok, even though it is under the security control of the Kurds. At the Mar Matti monastery they eagerly scan the distance for a glimpse of Mosul and in Al-Qosh they point to the lake of the Tigris on the horizon.
Double standards are everywhere when it comes to Iraqi Kurdistan. Most of the travellers would really want to go across the region’s border, to be able to tell the home front they were in Iraq. Even when they did not leave Kurdistan they will say so: Some of the most sought after camera shots are pictures of traffic signs pointing to Baghdad, Mosul and Kirkuk.
I often find it difficult to manoeuvre in this mine field. Kurdistan is safe, yet al-Qaeda could hit Erbil’s security police. Is Erbil like Madrid and London, and will we be safe again for years after this attack? At the same time Kurdistan is still a region of Iraq, whose deadly perils can cross borders. It can come from Baghdad, Syria, or even Iran.
That Kurdistan is not Iraq is a fact for us who live there, but not for those outside. And danger is perceived differently by different persons. Many Kurds have warned me not to go to Kirkuk, although they never visited the city themselves. They are convinced the danger starts an hour from Erbil. Talk to Kurds in Kirkuk, and they will tell you that their neighbourhood is safe, and the danger starts outside.
A clear sign of the differences between Kurdistan and the rest of Iraq is the continued use of a faulty security device in Baghdad. A British businessman was jailed for selling the device that was supposed to sniff explosives, but was a fake. Yet the Baghdad security police still use it to check for explosives. The Kurds never did, as far as I know.
Another difference is the security system. The Kurds have learned the system from the Americans. They use infiltration, tips and civilians who keep their eyes open. After the Americans left, Baghdad has gone back to old Baathist methods of mass arrests and forceful questioning, and the result can be seen daily when bombs explode.
Double standards are everywhere. I wonder how many people have stopped passing the scene of the attack on Sixty Street in Erbil out of fear of repetition. Yet, it is probably one of the safest places in the country at the moment. Statistically, chances of it happening again there so soon are slim. Plus the security is as tight as can be, and all the staff will be on their toes for a few more weeks, until the memory fades.
Source http://rudaw.net/english/opinion/11102013
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