ince medieval times, government positions in the Bukharian Emirate were sold, rather than earned. After purchasing a post, an official would discover that he then had to earn his living and pay off his superiors by levying "extra" taxes and fines on the people. This pyramid scheme of officialdom violated no moral norms or laws whatsoever. On the contrary, it was a time-honored custom.

With the passage of time, attitudes changed little. The Bukharian Emirate became the Soviet Republic of Uzbekistan, which lasted from 1924 to 1991, until the country won its independence. Throughout, corruption blossomed. The Soviet era ended with a major scandal, the "Cotton Case," in which some 200 Uzbek officials were implicated in bribery schemes that had infiltrated the highest levels of the Soviet directorate in Moscow. By now the case is mostly forgotten, but it shocked Soviet society during the late 1980s and involved enormous sums of money, huge quantities of gold and precious stones, countless offshore accounts, and numerous assassinations. Uzbek officials were arrested, imprisoned, executed, and many committed suicide.

It was with independence in 1991 that the reality of corruption hit home. The first move of the new government was to release all of those previously convicted of corruption-many of those involved in the Cotton Case. The majority of those freed officials steadily came back to power, receiving high-level government posts. Corruption did not vanish, rather it was simply recycled.

THE CHOSEN ONES

Under the generally authoritarian leadership of President Islam Karimov power in Uzbekistan is divided among several clans. Those clans have a primarily territorial origin. The most powerful contemporary clan is the "Samarkand," which has been directly linked with the president, a Samarkand native. Members of that clan control key government positions. The remaining three dominant clans include the "Surkash" (natives of the southern Uzbek districts of Surkhandaria and Kashkadaria), "FAN" (natives of the Ferghana Valley), and "Horazm" (natives of the north Uzbek cities of Khiva and Urgench. Numerous smaller clans make up the rest. The clans are engaged in a never-ending struggle to consolidate their power and influence, and their main objective is to place as many members as possible in government posts. In this battle, former Deputy Prime Minister Ismoil Jurabekov was the long-time minion. For all intents and purposes, aside from the president, Jurabekov was the most influential person in the Uzbek government. Until 1998 when he retired, Jurabekov was the agriculture minister, the water management deputy, and the overseer of all sectors of the economy, including the vital cotton enterprises. Jurabekov's people are everywhere.

At almost every level of government, "extra" rates and tariffs are set for otherwise free services, and no query can be resolved without under-the-table cash. Structures supposedly created to cope with corruption exist only to eliminate the undesirables. Furthermore, these rates and tariffs, even for the purchasing of a government position, are not set, but arbitrary. One deputy minister, who asked that his name not be used, told TOL that he had purchased his post for $5,000, expecting to recover this in no time after assuming his post. Even more so than in Soviet times, contemporary legislation in Uzbekistan is more restrictive. Nearly everything is regulated, especially in the sphere of economics. Imported goods are levied with duties so high that consumers must pay 100 percent to 120 percent markups, which renders trade virtually impossible for the majority of firms. But there are also tax exemptions for the chosen ones. Uzbekistan is home to many "charity" foundations that are exempt from taxes and duties. At the same time, they have the right to found firms as financial sponsors. Those firms are also tax exempt and linked to high-ranking government officials, who serve the interests of the clans that promoted them.

The Foundation for the Development of the Culture of Central Asian Peoples is a case in point. It is unclear how this foundation serves cultural awareness in Uzbekistan, but it is clear that the "charity's" numerous businesses thrive on importing duty-free goods. A significant part of its business is to receive goods for other firms that cannot afford to do so. This service costs firms half what they would normally pay if they imported goods themselves and paid the exorbitant customs duties. For the foundation, things are made easy-its head is a brother of a high-ranking customs official. There are hundreds of such examples.

A COKE AND A SMILE

Conditions for accumulating wealth have been made fantastically favorable for those in a position to abuse power. There is no fair competition and no free exchange of currency. The government's policies regarding currency regulation have been officially explained as a means for national currency reinforcement. If free exchange were to be introduced, officials argue, then Uzbek foreign currency reserves would be exported abroad and the Central Bank would lack the means to keep the soum stable and pin down hyperinflation. In 1998, foreign firms operating in Uzbekistan were issued currency exchange licenses. Initially, many were given out. However, when a sizable amount of foreign currency was accumulated in the various accounts of foreigners in Uzbek banks, the government announced that the licenses were invalid and froze the accounts. The owners of this money were offered a "fair" choice: They could either spend that money on low-quality goods made in Uzbekistan, or invest it in the development of the country's manufacturing industry-in which case the money would disappear into the pockets of various clan members.

New currency exchange licenses were then issued to a small, select number of firms in which top officials and mafiosi held interests. The best example is the Coca-Cola company in Uzbekistan, whose regional director is the husband of President Karimov's daughter, according to the U.S.-based Internet magazine Vestnik. According to this source, Coca-Cola is privy to the maximum advantages any foreign company could have in Uzbekistan. It has monopolized the production of soft drinks, generates huge revenues, and has no difficulty converting them into hard currency and shuffling it abroad. Amid a penniless people-where city dwellers earn about $15 per month and villagers survive only on what they can grow-a small class of amazingly wealthy people has emerged. They hold foreign bank accounts and real estate in Europe and the United States. The well-known Salim-bey clan, for instance, owns a network of hotels in Germany and shops and restaurants in the United States and other countries. Examples of the government elite merging with mafia clans are countless. Salim-bey, the leader of the clan by the same name, married his daughter to the son of the former Uzbek Attorney General.

For Central Asia it has always been a case of masters and ordinary people. Whether that master is a feudal lord, a communist leader, a gangster or a government official, no distinctions are necessary. As such, the common man prefers to step aside and the thought of interference is a remote one. This type of moral obedience has been stamped on the people for centuries. As the years pass, it is increasingly difficult to wash away. (Mikhail Degtiar, chairman of the Tashkent Jewish Cultural Center)