Report on the Flat but Happy Elections in Kurdish Iraq

Dr. James F. Pontuso

Dr. James F. Pontuso
Patterson Professor of Government and Foreign Affairs
March 14, 2010

Report from the field: Report on the Flat but Happy Elections in Kurdish Iraq

I heard gunfire for the first time since I have been in Iraq. The rattling crack of machine guns was actually quite nice. The volleys were fired into the clear Kurdish-Iraqi night sky not in anger but in joy. There was a lot of joy. It was a huge street party stretching out for miles, the whole length of the city's main street. Cars, trucks, buses, and vans were packed with thousands of people whistling and yelling out in jubilation. There were fireworks, flags, and overenthusiastic triggermen. For weeks there had been political parades whipping support for candidates. But this was different, the campaign was over. The polls had just closed and the thirty-hour ban on politicking and demonstrations had expired. Kurdish-Iraqis were celebrating their own freedom and dignity; it was the night of the Iraqi election.

Since I missed a similar display of people-power in Philadelphia in 1788, I went up to the roof of the four-story building where I live to get a better look. Some of the revelers broke away from the gridlock; five over-packed cars darted up my side street, people shouting and horns honking. The noise roused our Peshmerga from his small trailer - no doubt he was given orders to be alert on Election Day. The Peshmerga who guard the residential hotel where American faculty live either have the world's best or most boring job. Sulaimania, Kurdish-Iraq is perhaps the most pro-American place on earth, so the only thing to protect us from is overly polite Kurds trying to be kind to us.

I made the mistake of waving. When one passerby saw me as the car tilted up on a speed bump, the ruckus really began. The mini parade halted and saluted me with happy shouts, waves, and firecrackers; they sounded a lot like gunfire. The Peshmerga took a dim view of this and moved toward the cars - it probably flashed though his mind that he didn't want to be on duty when the world's best and most boring job got screwed up. The partiers pointed up, placing blame for their merriment squarely where it belonged. The Peshmerga spun around scanning the rooftop, a flash of concern on his face as his eyes met mine. Thankfully the Peshmerga are either well trained or have a lot of common sense; the machine gun stayed strapped to his back. When he saw who it was a broad and slightly ironic grin came over his young face. "Stupid Americans," I imagined him thinking, "don't know enough to get out from under a hail of falling bullets. But it's nice to have them here cheering with us." Then the revelers, the Peshmerga, and I waved, smiled, and celebrated the end of history and the flat world.

Since there is so much confusion about the end of history, the Kurdish-Iraqis were probably unaware that they were applauding it. The end of history does not mean that time stopped or that nothing will ever happen again; not end as in "it's all over," but end as "it's reached its culmination, where it wants to go." The end of history thesis maintains that over the past two hundred years liberal democracy has triumphed over all its enemies: monarchy and autocracy during World War I, Fascism during World War II, and Communism during the Cold War. The ideas of liberal democracy are now almost universally accepted as the proper way to organize political communities. Those nations that have not yet adopted the institutions of liberal democracy will eventually do so because behavior follows theory, practices follow ideas. The end of history argues that there will no longer be revolutionary movements based on new philosophic doctrines to challenge the status quo. Once people establish liberal democracy, they won't want to change to another form of government. No seminal events or epoch-shattering upheavals, as occurred during the American, French and Russian Revolutions, will mark the future.

Kurdish-Iraqis were elated on the night of March 7 because in their part of the country the election had been, for the most part, fairly contested and, with the exception of the four people injured from bullets falling back to earth, had gone off without incident. Whatever the results at the polls, people here understood that the election gave Iraq a chance to become what most everyone wants: a peaceful, secure, prosperous nation.

Economists seem not to like the whole idea of the end of history so they gave the phenomenon an even more ironic explanation; they insist the world is flat. Flat worlders don't really think the world is flat, instead they point out that there is now a global market. Goods, services, news, and ideas move freely from one part of the globe to another, as if the world was flat. Everyone gains from this exchange since they can concentrate on what they are good at. World-wide commerce would not be possible unless people shared certain values, most importantly protection of property rights. Would you trade with someone who stole your money? In places that do not or cannot protect property rights the world is still quite round, for although people truck, barter, and exchange - as they always have done - there is little long-term security for them to save and invest. Violence and brutality interfere with the hope for gain, and people in those areas are almost always poor. People in the flat regions of the planet put aside long-standing religious, ethnic, and cultural hatreds and pursue their rational self-interest. They look to the future instead of the past. They know that business cannot thrive alongside war, violence, and distrust. Flat-worlders seek peace, security and prosperity. It turns out that the world is flattest where liberal democracy reigns.

Some people doubt whether the world will ever be flat or that history will ever reach its end. They think that there will always be a clash of cultures. For them, the past dominates the future. They argue that cultural differences are so strongly embedded that people from different cultures would rather fight over whose culture is better than seek their rational self-interest. They point to Iraq as an example of just how powerful sectarian, religious, and ethnic divisions really are.

Here in Iraq the clash of cultures is all too prevalent. But it is a mistake to call it a clash of "cultures." There are perhaps 2% or at most 3% of the people who would rather fight than switch. They have guns, rockets, and bombs with which they hope to destroy any semblance of rationality or sensible judgment. Sadly, it is not only numbers but also intensity that counts in life. Opponents of liberal democracy and economic advancement are doggedly attached to past slights and injustices; they seem all-too-fond of spheres.

But as I watched the happy crowd from atop my apartment I couldn't help but think that most people on earth really do want the same future: peace, security, personal autonomy, dignity, and prosperity. Maybe the gunmen were hoping to make the world flat and history come to an end by firing into the star-filled heavens.