In post-Soviet Uzbekistan, nepotism,
cronyism and corruption are reaching endemic proportions. Not that the region is new to
the concept. For centuries despotic Khans ruled the various desert oases. Their whims
became law as the Khans enjoyed the groveling flattery of courtiers who, in turn,
embezzled and extorted once the Khan's back was turned. This is hardly a foundation for a
meritocracy. Seventy years of communism attempted to shift this mindset. Slaves and women,
previously considered property for barter, were suddenly transformed into a valued and
esteemed work force. Khanships were replaced with committees and cooperatives. A shift
towards meritocracy had begun.
In some measure, the communist system was successful; creating opportunities for those
previously excluded from paid employment, such as women, and providing a new structure of
governance that was not based on bloodline. However, the monolithic Soviet system provided
few incentives for personal advancement and economic prosperity, instead creating a
climate where nepotism and corruption soon became entrenched. Every year students have to
pay their teachers a bribe to pass their exams or to graduate from university. Uzbeks have
to pay a bribe to get a job, pay a bribe to the doctor to operate on a child, pay a bribe
to the electricity man to lower the bill, to the policeman for a traffic offense and so
on. But Uzbeks pay bribes even for talent competitions, which should be the very essence
of meritocracy. To western eyes at least, this is particularly reprehensible and makes
such competitions complete charades.
Endemic corruption cripples society with devastating consequences. What happens to a
health care system when a generation of so called doctors have no qualifications other
than blood ties to their employers or the ability to pay huge amounts of money under the
table? What happens when positions of power, ranging from neighborhood policeman to
president, are seen simply as opportunities to better one's own financial position and
those of one's relatives? As for human rights, the very concept presupposes that those
without the right connections have any value at all. One of the most potent legacies of
the Soviet era was the importance of veneer. Things must look good. It was never clear
exactly who the charade was for, only that it must be played, and played by everyone.
Today the charade continues, and people continue to play even if they do not believe.
When someone loses a talent competition friends will comfort him or her with the words,
"Well you obviously didn't pay a large enough bribe." But how can a competition
have any value if it was so widely known that all winners had paid massive bribes? Surely,
such events must be considered a standing joke. However, the power of the charade
continues. While sitting with friends of one such competition loser drinking tea, I
observed the friend consoling the non-prize winner that the prize, only two thirds the
value of the bribe asked for, really was not worth it. The losing contestant disagrees,
dreaming of winning first place next year and the prestige it will give him, and planning
on ways to save for the huge bribe he will have to pay.
C. Iskandar