The Voice of Mirza Xazar

The Boy From Baku

By Elizabeth Kiem

March 4, 2005

The Orientalist: Solving the Mystery of a Strange and Dangerous Life

By Tom Reiss

The arid, windswept capital of Azerbaijan is not a tourist mecca. Most travelers to Baku come in search of oil, not romance. But for many Azeris and not a few foreigners, a trip to this desert metropolis of dust, derricks and derelict buildings is nothing short of a pilgrimage. Guided daily along wide boulevards and labyrinthine alleyways, the romantic faithful come to Baku to trace the paths of literary lovers Ali and Nino. Published in 1937 under the pseudonym Kurban Said, "Ali and Nino" has been translated into 17 languages and embraced by Azerbaijan as its "national novel." The story revolves around star-crossed lovers — she a Christian, he a Muslim — in Baku on the eve of revolution, and captures the city's cosmopolitan heyday while exploring the richly exotic cultures of the broader Caucasus at that time. For decades, the nostalgic portrait of a past era and an enduring inter-ethnic love story, "Ali and Nino" was as well known as its author was mysterious. The identity of Kurban Said has long been the subject of heated, sometimes litigious, debate, with one camp claiming him as Azeri poet Josef Vezir, and another an Austrian baroness. Others asserted, correctly, that Said was a pseudonym for Essad Bey, a curious and prolific writer of biography and history living among expatriates in inter-war Berlin and Vienna. But crediting the enigmatic Bey only enhanced the mystery; Leon Trotsky himself, after reading Bey's book about Stalin, had wondered aloud, "Who is this Essad Bey?" American journalist Tom Reiss spent a decade tracking down the furtive provenance of "Ali and Nino." Doubting the claims of both the Austrian baroness and the Azeri poet, Reiss diligently conducted interviews, pored over letters and manuscripts, and shuttled between Europe and the Caucasus to better pin down the author who claimed to be both a Mohammedan prince and the official biographer of Mussolini. In "The Orientalist," Reiss makes the convincing case that Essad Bey was actually a Jew named Lev Nussimbaum. More than just the investigative account implied by its subtitle, "The Orientalist" is the story of a man who refashioned his roots to reflect his own sense of self. Nussimbaum was born in Baku in 1905, into the privileged world of an oil magnate's son in a town supplying half of the world's petroleum. Revolution, exile and world war would break open the bars of his gilded cage soon enough, but Nussimbaum's early youth would set a standard for the writer in later years, as a sort of anti-hero. As a teenager on the cusp of celebrity, he adopted the persona of Essad Bey. Institutionalized antisemitism was still to come in his adopted home of Germany, and it appears that his Islamic conversion was motivated neither by security nor by faith. Reiss suggests that in approaching an imam in the Ottoman Embassy in Berlin, Essad Bey was adopting citizenship into the multiethnic Oriental worldview he cherished, one he had glimpsed in Baku — where desert Arabs, tribal warriors and Persian potentates strolled together between mosque and café. When he went to literary salons, Bey sported fezzes, turbans, bandoliers and daggers, and therefore emerged as a curious conflation of romantic ideals and cultural stereotypes, consistent only in his distaste for a revolutionary world order. In the first half of "The Orientalist," Reiss expertly weaves Nussimbaum's story into a sweeping review of the ethnic makeup of the Caucasus and the history of the revolutionary movement of Russia. But by the time Essad Bey makes his flamboyant entrance, Reiss is at pains to keep his balance of history and biography. New waves of émigrés arrive in Berlin as steadily as the currency falls and political fates reverse, and Reiss struggles valiantly to debrief the reader on them all. The result is an acceptable, if selective, social history of Weimar in which Essad Bey meanders like the hero of a "Where's Waldo?" book. This is not entirely Reiss's fault. An eccentric in Berlin's cabaret culture is hardly exceptional. But it is part of the book's greater shortcoming. "The Orientalist" demystifies Kurban Said, but not merely because it has unmasked him. Reiss dutifully accounts for Nussinbaum/Bey's whereabouts during 36 years. And in a journalistic coup, Reiss even grants the story closure, having obtained Kurban Said's last manuscript, written on his deathbed in an Italian fishing village. He transmits the reminiscences of near-ancient school friends (Lev had big ears and was clever), reprints photographs of the dashing Bey (he was at ease among his closest friends) and quotes from the final lines of Kurban Said (he was still dreaming at his lonely end). But Bey is nearly silenced by the anecdotal evidence that Reiss has accumulated for his profile. There is little drama to be salvaged from the mystery he has solved; even scarcer is a sense of danger in the motivations of his politically buffeted subject; in short, an incredible life becomes easily, if sadly, credible. Essad Bey, it should be remembered, wrote a number of biographies, all of which were nearly as fantastic as his fairy-tales of the Caucasus. In his life, as in his writing, he allowed truth some elasticity, knowing that fact is only stranger than fiction when treated as such. Reiss should be applauded for setting the record straight, but it is his subject we must thank for making the life and times of Lev Nussimbaum, aka Essad Bey, aka Kurban Said, "strange and dangerous." Elizabeth Kiem is a journalist and a literary critic living in Brooklyn. FORWARD NEWSPAPER

Aliev In Britain By Mark Almond The Daily Mail July 20, 1998 It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Tomorrow New Labour’s ethical policy will drown symbolically in a poisonous cocktail of blood and oil when the Queen shakes hands with Azerbaijan’s President Aliev. Her Majesty may be forgiven for thinking this is one export-driven photo-opportunity too many. The Queen has dutifully entertained tyrants of all stripes but she has never had to shake hands with a SMERSH agent before. Heydar Aliev from oil-rich Azerbajan, deep beyond the Caucasus in the south of the old Soviet Union, started his climb to the top of the greasy _ and in his case grisly _ pole as agent in the most feared unit of Stalin’s secret police in 1944. As fans of James Bond remember, SMERSH stood for "Death to Traitors." Its agents were hand-picked to be killers of Stalin’s enemies, real and imagined. Aliev’s rapid rise up the KGB’s hierarchy suggest that he was rewarded for his handiwork at the "wet" end of its deadly business. In more than fifty years of serving then exercising absolute power, Aliev has been ruthless abo ut getting his way. Whether hands-on as a young man or from behind a KGB bureaucrat’s desk, he has callously despatched unknown thousands to their fate. Today, as President of Azerbaijan his secret police regularly arrest scores of critics allegedly plotting against him and thousands languish in his old haunts, the ex-KGB prisons. Others simply disappear. Yet Aliev’s Azerbaijan is respectable. There is one word to explain this bizarre fact: Oil. Aliev’s is a rags to riches story _ but one built across the bones of rivals and the backs of his own people. A poor boy from one of the most remote Soviet regions he clawed his way to the very top in the Kremlin. In person he possesses the hypnotic charm of a Caucasian snake. He can smile but when he bites, it is in the throat. Whether as a servant of Stalin, crony of Brezhnev or master of his own would-be Kuwait on the Caspian Aliev has always mixed guile with gut-wrenching ruthlessness in order to get his own way. Under Brezhnev, Aliev’s sinsister fawning on the corrupt and senile Communist boss saw him rise through the KGB to become leader of the Azeri Communist Party. He repaid Brezhnev with a diamond studded gift worth $30,000 and put up a palace in his capital Baku for when the old man came snuffling for more trinkets. Nowadays visiting Western politicians and oil merchants vie with for the dubious privilege of sleeping where Brezhnev snored off a vodka-drenched banquet in his honour. Aliev made it into the Politburo itself. He was the first Azeri, indeed, the first man of Muslim origin to enter the Kremlin’s holy of holies. But the rise of Mikhail Gorbachev catapulted Aliev from power and privilege. He was made the scapegoat for the rampant corruption gnawing away at the Soviet system. Back home in remote Azerbajan, Aliev seemed finished. But the fund of connections and cash built up there over years at the top meant that he had the launching pad for a comeback once Gorbachev fell and the Soviet Union disappeared in 1991. Aliev bided his time and then with the aid of a mixed gang of local mafiosi and ex-KGB he struck. Although he likes to describe himself as stepping into a power vacuum in June, 1993, in fact his elected predecessor, Elchibey, was toppled by a coup on the eve of just the sort of signing ceremony which fills Mr Aliev’s week in London. Suddenly the old Soviet boss of oil rich Azerbajan was back at the helm. Being a man who moves with the times and recognizing that lip-service to democracy is now the spirit of the age, Aliev decided to have himself elected president in October, 1993. As he remarked at the time, "I was always a democrat. It’s just that you didn’t notice." Azeri democracy was uniquely Aliev-style. Arriving as an observer in one polling station, my passport details were entered in the voters' register then the ballot paper was filled out for me _ in Aliev's’ favour. My protests that I was a foreigner unable to vote were laughed off: "The whole world wants Aliev to win." Two Turks _ more in tune with the local customs _ voted several times for Aliev. Despite such farcical scenes the Western election observing agency, the Organisation for Security and Cooperation in Europe, from describing Aliev’s electoral shenanigans as the "unimpeded expression of people’s choice." A few more impediments would have made for more democracy. But oil decreed that Aliev had won 98.9% of the votes _ a modest 1% fall from his last Soviet-era total. Aliev is up for re-election in October. I wouldn’t be surprised if Robin Cooke isn’t given a special postal vote to mark of Aliev’s approval of his well-oiled ethical foreign policy. A gaggle of ex-Tory Mps and former Foreign Office diplomats know the value of keeping in with Aliev. So does a host of stars of George Bush’s Administration. Aliev retains ex-Secretary of State, James Baker and Ex-National Security Adviser, Brent Scowcroft, and a galaxy of Washington insiders to polish his image and oil access to the levers of Western power. No doubt none of these grand panjandrums would have touched Aliev the KGB general with a barge pole. But you can take the man out of the KGB, can you take the KGB out of the man? His ability to tap into Western politicians’ greed for consultancy fees is a sinister omen of the waning of our establishment’s ethical defences against taking foreign despots’ money since the Cold War. The West’s oil men in Azerbajan itself are insulated from the terrible hardships of ordinary people there. No trickle down effect is noticeable so far as fat fees are paid up front to Aliev’s favoured few, especially family members like his son who run the local oil industry. Inside hospitals without basic equipment or Aliev’s overflowing prisons where TB is rife, Britain’s ethical foreign policy is likely to be regarded as a hollow joke. Leaving ethics aside is Britain backing the future? Even Smersh agents die. Aliev is an astoundly lively seventy-five year old, but old men pass away. He has been careful to purge potential successors as likely impatient rivals. All the deals being signed this week could be so many pieces of paper if Aliev turns toes up. Once his predecessor, Elchibey was toppled his memos of understanding with Western companies went into the dustbin of history. Cynical Bill Clinton has already started lining up a successor to Aliev even while his friend, Tony Blair is wining and dining Aliev. Clinton’s candidate is no natural democrat. Rasul Guliyev one of Aliev’s former aides as speaker of the Azeri Parliament, now spends a lot of time in the USA badmouthing his former boss. Denouncing corrupt oil deals is certainly popular among ordinary Azeris. It could be that currying favour with Azerbaijan’s boss turns out to be worse than unethical. It might not even be profitable. The first act of any successor, democratic or otherwise, will be to rip up this week’s deals. That will be enormously popular with the long-suffering people of Azerbaijan. It would not be the first time oil companies have backed a corrupt regime only to see it toppled by revolution. Iran is just across the southern border. Twenty years haven’t passed since the Shah’s regime there fell in ignominy only months after he was received with pomp in the White House. My guess is that once the infrastructure for Azerbajan’s twenty-first oil industry is in place. Aliev will fall or die _ or both (as is the way in that part of the world) _ and Western investments will be nationalised by his successor. Whatever you call its policy, the Foreign Office is likely to be left with oil all over its face. Mark Almond is Lecturer in Modern History at Oriel College, Oxford. He has observed elections and visited prisons in Azerbaijan in 1993 and 1995.

Aliev In Britain

By Mark Almond

The Daily Mail July 20, 1998

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Tomorrow New Labour’s ethical policy will drown symbolically in a poisonous cocktail of blood and oil when the Queen shakes hands with Azerbaijan’s President Aliev. Her Majesty may be forgiven for thinking this is one export-driven photo-opportunity too many. The Queen has dutifully entertained tyrants of all stripes but she has never had to shake hands with a SMERSH agent before. Heydar Aliev from oil-rich Azerbajan, deep beyond the Caucasus in the south of the old Soviet Union, started his climb to the top of the greasy _ and in his case grisly _ pole as agent in the most feared unit of Stalin’s secret police in 1944. As fans of James Bond remember, SMERSH stood for "Death to Traitors." Its agents were hand-picked to be killers of Stalin’s enemies, real and imagined. Aliev’s rapid rise up the KGB’s hierarchy suggest that he was rewarded for his handiwork at the "wet" end of its deadly business. In more than fifty years of serving then exercising absolute power, Aliev has been ruthless abo ut getting his way. Whether hands-on as a young man or from behind a KGB bureaucrat’s desk, he has callously despatched unknown thousands to their fate. Today, as President of Azerbaijan his secret police regularly arrest scores of critics allegedly plotting against him and thousands languish in his old haunts, the ex-KGB prisons. Others simply disappear. Yet Aliev’s Azerbaijan is respectable. There is one word to explain this bizarre fact: Oil. Aliev’s is a rags to riches story _ but one built across the bones of rivals and the backs of his own people. A poor boy from one of the most remote Soviet regions he clawed his way to the very top in the Kremlin. In person he possesses the hypnotic charm of a Caucasian snake. He can smile but when he bites, it is in the throat. Whether as a servant of Stalin, crony of Brezhnev or master of his own would-be Kuwait on the Caspian Aliev has always mixed guile with gut-wrenching ruthlessness in order to get his own way. Under Brezhnev, Aliev’s sinsister fawning on the corrupt and senile Communist boss saw him rise through the KGB to become leader of the Azeri Communist Party. He repaid Brezhnev with a diamond studded gift worth $30,000 and put up a palace in his capital Baku for when the old man came snuffling for more trinkets. Nowadays visiting Western politicians and oil merchants vie with for the dubious privilege of sleeping where Brezhnev snored off a vodka-drenched banquet in his honour. Aliev made it into the Politburo itself. He was the first Azeri, indeed, the first man of Muslim origin to enter the Kremlin’s holy of holies. But the rise of Mikhail Gorbachev catapulted Aliev from power and privilege. He was made the scapegoat for the rampant corruption gnawing away at the Soviet system. Back home in remote Azerbajan, Aliev seemed finished. But the fund of connections and cash built up there over years at the top meant that he had the launching pad for a comeback once Gorbachev fell and the Soviet Union disappeared in 1991. Aliev bided his time and then with the aid of a mixed gang of local mafiosi and ex-KGB he struck. Although he likes to describe himself as stepping into a power vacuum in June, 1993, in fact his elected predecessor, Elchibey, was toppled by a coup on the eve of just the sort of signing ceremony which fills Mr Aliev’s week in London. Suddenly the old Soviet boss of oil rich Azerbajan was back at the helm. Being a man who moves with the times and recognizing that lip-service to democracy is now the spirit of the age, Aliev decided to have himself elected president in October, 1993. As he remarked at the time, "I was always a democrat. It’s just that you didn’t notice." Azeri democracy was uniquely Aliev-style. Arriving as an observer in one polling station, my passport details were entered in the voters' register then the ballot paper was filled out for me _ in Aliev's’ favour. My protests that I was a foreigner unable to vote were laughed off: "The whole world wants Aliev to win." Two Turks _ more in tune with the local customs _ voted several times for Aliev. Despite such farcical scenes the Western election observing agency, the Organisation for Security and Cooperation in Europe, from describing Aliev’s electoral shenanigans as the "unimpeded expression of people’s choice." A few more impediments would have made for more democracy. But oil decreed that Aliev had won 98.9% of the votes _ a modest 1% fall from his last Soviet-era total. Aliev is up for re-election in October. I wouldn’t be surprised if Robin Cooke isn’t given a special postal vote to mark of Aliev’s approval of his well-oiled ethical foreign policy. A gaggle of ex-Tory Mps and former Foreign Office diplomats know the value of keeping in with Aliev. So does a host of stars of George Bush’s Administration. Aliev retains ex-Secretary of State, James Baker and Ex-National Security Adviser, Brent Scowcroft, and a galaxy of Washington insiders to polish his image and oil access to the levers of Western power. No doubt none of these grand panjandrums would have touched Aliev the KGB general with a barge pole. But you can take the man out of the KGB, can you take the KGB out of the man? His ability to tap into Western politicians’ greed for consultancy fees is a sinister omen of the waning of our establishment’s ethical defences against taking foreign despots’ money since the Cold War. The West’s oil men in Azerbajan itself are insulated from the terrible hardships of ordinary people there. No trickle down effect is noticeable so far as fat fees are paid up front to Aliev’s favoured few, especially family members like his son who run the local oil industry. Inside hospitals without basic equipment or Aliev’s overflowing prisons where TB is rife, Britain’s ethical foreign policy is likely to be regarded as a hollow joke. Leaving ethics aside is Britain backing the future? Even Smersh agents die. Aliev is an astoundly lively seventy-five year old, but old men pass away. He has been careful to purge potential successors as likely impatient rivals. All the deals being signed this week could be so many pieces of paper if Aliev turns toes up. Once his predecessor, Elchibey was toppled his memos of understanding with Western companies went into the dustbin of history. Cynical Bill Clinton has already started lining up a successor to Aliev even while his friend, Tony Blair is wining and dining Aliev. Clinton’s candidate is no natural democrat. Rasul Guliyev one of Aliev’s former aides as speaker of the Azeri Parliament, now spends a lot of time in the USA badmouthing his former boss. Denouncing corrupt oil deals is certainly popular among ordinary Azeris. It could be that currying favour with Azerbaijan’s boss turns out to be worse than unethical. It might not even be profitable. The first act of any successor, democratic or otherwise, will be to rip up this week’s deals. That will be enormously popular with the long-suffering people of Azerbaijan. It would not be the first time oil companies have backed a corrupt regime only to see it toppled by revolution. Iran is just across the southern border. Twenty years haven’t passed since the Shah’s regime there fell in ignominy only months after he was received with pomp in the White House. My guess is that once the infrastructure for Azerbajan’s twenty-first oil industry is in place. Aliev will fall or die _ or both (as is the way in that part of the world) _ and Western investments will be nationalised by his successor. Whatever you call its policy, the Foreign Office is likely to be left with oil all over its face. Mark Almond is Lecturer in Modern History at Oriel College, Oxford. He has observed elections and visited prisons in Azerbaijan in 1993 and 1995.