Azerbaijan’s free speech is a PR myth

When the invite to the Azerbaijani reception at Westminster City Hall arrived, and I saw that top of the bill was Ell and Nikki, the pop duo who romped to victory at this year’s Eurovision song contest, I figured, why not?

Many of the Azerbaijani elite in attendance that night had much more than Eurovision glory to celebrate. Speaking ahead of the concert, the ambassador recalled how, when his country won its independence from the Soviet Union 20 years ago, he would not have believed it could come as far as it has – indeed, that it would be independent at all. Nestled between some of the world’s most imposing neighbours – Russia to the north and Iran to the south, with Armenia to the west and a chunk of hotly, often violently, disputed territory, Nagorno-Karabakh, lying between the two nations – few would have rated Azerbaijan’s chances of survival too highly back in 1991.

But survive it has – and as a secular state, despite an 85% Shia majority and Iran pumping propaganda into its airwaves across the southern border. Also, as much as possible, with an independent foreign policy, despite Russia breathing down its neck from the north. The former Soviet Republic has forged closer links with Europe and the west, and is now a member of the UN, the Council of Europe, the Organisation for Security and Co-operation in Europe and Nato’s Partnership for Peace Program. Thanks to a healthy endowment of oil and gas, its economy is booming despite the global recession. On one of the thoroughfares into the capital, Baku, a sign proclaims: “Democracy is our path.”

Except that the last part – even in the most generous analysis – is not entirely true. The country has embarked on a major PR drive to sell a story of promise and growth: one that appeals easily to European business, eager to strike lucrative oil and gas contracts, and to European politicians seeking energy security in the face of resurgent Russia, and unfriendly or unstable regimes in many of its satellites. Representatives from both camps were out in force at Westminster City Hall on Wednesday night: “friends” in the region come at a premium these days.

But the facts are these: the country’s president, Ilham Aliyev, is the son of the country’s last president, Heydar Aliyev; the family has ruled Azerbaijan since a coup in 1993. President Aliyev doesn’t even bother with the formalities of switching to prime minister for a term, as his neighbour, Vladimir Putin, chose to. In 2009, the two-term limit on the presidency was lifted via a referendum, which he won comfortably. International observers have been critical of all the elections held since independence; opposition demonstrations have repeatedly been met with police violence, and there have been widespread allegations of torture and ill-treatment in custody.

Apologists for the regime – and I met many that night – will tell you that the last presidential election was not “quite as bad” as the ones preceding it. The evidence supports this – yet all have been marred by violence, intimidation, allegations of fraud and suppression of dissent. Last year, Reporters Without Borders (RSF) reported that journalists and bloggers “work in a climate of endemic impunity and under persistent pressure from the authorities”. A number of activists are currently staging a hunger strike in protest at the harsh sentences meted out to opposition activists involved in a quashed demonstration in April this year.

It’s embarrassing, to say the least, for those who want to befriend this energy-rich republic. Responding to the April incident, the European parliament’s president Jerzy Buzek called for the release of all political prisoners in Azerbaijan, and stressed that Azerbaijan’s relationship with the EU “would become even stronger with more progress on human rights and political freedoms”.

The logic behind this carefully worded censure is the same that guides “uncomfortable” but strategic relationships the world over: the carrot is better than the stick. Hold out the carrot of friendship with Europe and liberalisation will follow, so the argument goes. Fraser Nelson even seems to think that the Eurovision victory will spark some sort ofoutpouring of tolerance and social reform. (In the meantime, of course, we can all carry on doing business as usual.)

You don’t need to look far to see how short-sighted this is: the post-Soviet states Ukraine and Belarus provide ready examples. It’s true that the Azerbaijani regime’s record is not quite as stained as some others in the region. As one insider put it, it’s not like they’ve not had a “year zero” like Turkmenistan. But to use such levels of depravity as a yardstick against which to measure anything is, well, depraved. We cannot be blind to what is happening in Azerbaijan simply because it suits us. History shows that such strategies often end badly for western powers, too.

We should judge all purported “democracies” by the same standards – and this includes our own. This week the British government moved to ban the legal principle that exposed British collusion in torture of “war on terror” detainees. Also this week, in Prospect, Geoffrey Robertson points to the danger posed by the upcoming Leveson inquiry into media standards. Many British politicians, sensing an opportunity in the wake of the phone-hacking scandal, have called for statutory laws to curb the powers of the press. This would be a disaster for freedom of speech. As Robinson writes: “Journalism is not a profession. It is the exercise, by occupation, of the right to free expression available to every citizen.” Azerbaijanis do not have this right. We must be vigilant in protecting our own.