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  • In Azerbaijan, the sky's the limit: Lavish project includes 55 artif

    The International Herald Tribune, France
    February 9, 2013 Saturday

    In Azerbaijan, the sky's the limit: Lavish project includes 55
    artificial islands and world's tallest building

    by PETER SAVODNIK


    Fueled by oil revenue, Azerbaijan has big ambitions -- including plans
    for the world's tallest building.


    Ibrahim Ibrahimov was on the three-hour Azerbaijan Airlines flight
    from Dubai to Baku when he had a vision. ''I wanted to build a city,
    but I didn't know how,'' he recalled. ''I closed my eyes and I began
    to imagine this project.''

    Mr. Ibrahimov, 54, is one of the richest men in Azerbaijan. In the
    middle of his reverie, he summoned the flight attendant. ''I asked for
    some paper, but there wasn't any. So I grabbed this shirt in my bag
    that I hadn't tried on. I took the tissue paper out and in 20 minutes
    I drew the whole thing.''

    Once he arrived in Baku, Mr. Ibrahimov went straight to his architects
    and said, ''Draw this exactly the way I did.'' Avesta Concern, the
    company that governs his various business interests, subsequently
    commissioned the blueprints for Mr. Ibrahimov's vision. The result is
    to be a sprawling development called Khazar Islands, an archipelago of
    55 artificial islands in the Caspian Sea with thousands of apartments,
    at least eight hotels, a Formula One racetrack, a yacht club, an
    airport and the tallest building on earth, Azerbaijan Tower, which is
    to rise 1,050 meters, or 3,445 feet.

    When the whole project is complete, according to Avesta, 800,000
    people will live at Khazar Islands, and there will be hotel rooms for
    an additional 200,000, totaling nearly half the population of Baku. It
    will cost about $100 billion, which is more than the gross domestic
    product of most countries, including Azerbaijan.

    ''It will cost $3 billion just to build Azerbaijan Tower,'' Mr.
    Ibrahimov said. ''Some people may object. I don't care. I will build
    it alone. I work with my feelings.''

    It is not surprising that Mr. Ibrahimov had his epiphany on a flight
    from Dubai. The fake islands and the glass and steel towers - many of
    which resemble the sail-shaped Burj Al Arab hotel in Dubai - are
    emblems of the modern Gulf petro-dictatorship. And two decades after
    the collapse of the Soviet Union, Azerbaijan could be accused of
    having similar ambitions. The country has 9.2 million people and is
    cut off from any oceans. It builds nothing that the rest of the world
    wants, and it has no internationally recognized universities. It does,
    however, have oil.

    In 2006, Azerbaijan started pumping crude from its oil field under the
    Caspian Sea through the new Baku-Tbilisi-Ceyhan pipeline. Now, with
    the help of BP and other foreign energy companies, one million barrels
    of oil course through the pipeline daily, ending up at a Turkish port
    on the northeast corner of the Mediterranean Sea. This makes
    Azerbaijan a legitimate energy power with a great deal of potential.

    If the proposed Nabucco pipeline, running from Turkey to Austria, is
    built, Azerbaijan will become a conduit for gas reserves, linking
    Central Asia to Europe. This could strip Russia, which sells the
    European Union more than a third of the gas it consumes, of one of its
    most potent foreign policy levers. It could also generate billions of
    dollars a year for Azerbaijan.

    Sitting on a couch in his temporary headquarters at the construction
    site of his future city, Mr. Ibrahimov mulled over the possibilities.

    Mr. Ibrahimov said he had slept five hours but was not tired. He
    started the day with an hourlong run, followed by a dip in the Caspian
    Sea, followed by a burst of phone calls, followed by meetings with
    some people from the Foreign Ministry, then the Turks, then his
    engineers and architects. Now, while sipping tea, his attention was
    back on Khazar Islands, which he insisted was not modeled after Dubai.

    ''Dubai is a desert,'' he said. ''The Arabs built an illusion of a
    country. The Palm'' - a faux-island development in Dubai - ''is not
    right. The water smells. Also, they built very deep in the sea. That's
    dangerous. The Palm is beautiful to look at, but it's not good to live
    in.''

    Few countries have come as far in mastering the art of geopolitics as
    Azerbaijan. After being occupied by Cyrus the Great, Alexander the
    Great, the Seljuks, the Mongols, the Persians, the Russians, the
    Ottomans and, finally, the Soviets, Azerbaijan, which achieved its
    independence in 1991, has cultivated relationships with the United
    States and many European countries and deepened relations with Russia
    and key Central Asian ''stans.''

    In the old days, they came for Azerbaijan's location. About a century
    ago, they started coming for oil. Then, after the Soviet Union
    collapsed, the energy sector became a source of enormous wealth. Now
    Azerbaijan is trying to take advantage of that wealth. Avesta's sales
    and marketing team recently produced a gleaming 101-page coffee-table
    book promoting Khazar Islands. There is also a video that shows
    computer renderings of Khazar Islands in the not-too-distant future.

    When I arrived in Baku, the first of the Khazar Islands had already
    been plunked down, and the first few apartment buildings were going
    up. Boulevards and traffic circles had been paved, and everywhere
    there seemed to be retaining walls and the concrete outlines of future
    cineplexes.

    Last spring, on the day before I left for Baku from Moscow, 96
    apartments had been sold. Two days later, that figure inched up to
    102. Now, it is 136. The asking prices run from about $280 to $460 per
    square foot, meaning a typical 1,076-square-foot, or 100-square-meter,
    apartment at Khazar Islands starts around $300,000. Mr. Ibrahimov said
    he expected geometric growth after 2015, when workers are scheduled to
    break ground on Azerbaijan Tower.

    Western financial analysts and real estate developers are
    understandably skeptical. For one thing, there is President Ilham
    Aliyev's regime, which opposes political competition and changes that
    would diversify Azerbaijan's economy and encourage the long-term
    growth needed for this kind of mega-project. There is the fact that no
    one has ever tried anything this ambitious in Azerbaijan. Finally,
    this is a rough neighborhood. The conflict in Nagorno- Karabakh, an
    autonomous region within the country, raged between Azerbaijan and
    Armenia from 1988 to 1994 and has never really been resolved. And
    there is the chance of a U.S. or Israeli strike on Iran, Azerbaijan's
    southern neighbor.

    Yet Mr. Ibrahimov, sitting behind the blueprints in his log cabin,
    remained extremely optimistic. Azerbaijan, with its new money and
    undeveloped coastline, offers businessmen from the former Soviet Union
    an affordable nearby playground.

    It was crucial, Mr. Ibrahimov told me, to visualize what everything
    would look like in 2022, when Khazar Islands is supposed to be
    finished. He pointed outside a small window, to the sea. ''That is
    where it will be,'' he said, referring to Azerbaijan Tower. ''In the
    water. Can you see it?''

    Some in Baku already can. Indeed, the most crucial factor underpinning
    the project is that Mr. Aliyev's regime seems to want Khazar Islands
    built. Ilgar Mammadov, chairman of the pro-democracy Republicanist
    Alternative Movement, characterized Khazar Islands as an inexorable
    beast. The country's international strategic monetary reserves are now
    more than $46 billion, Mr. Mammadov said, and in 10 years, as oil and
    gas revenue rises, they could be near $150 billion. ''Azerbaijan has
    the capacity to build the tallest building,'' he said. ''That's not in
    doubt. We will create this big building, and then it will, by itself,
    by the very mere fact of its existence, bring cash. How will that
    work? Nobody knows.''

    Mr. Ibrahimov was sitting in the back seat of a black Rolls-Royce as
    it tore across Island No.1 of his soon-to-be built archipelago. Nigar
    Huseynli, his 23-year-old assistant, was sitting up front. As the
    Rolls sped past knots of men in hard hats, Mr. Ibrahimov juggled
    cellphones. His son called. Then the Qatari ambassador. Then someone
    who annoyed him. Every time I started to ask a question or he started
    to answer, there was a call or a text message.

    Mr. Ibrahimov was born in a village in the Nakhichevan Autonomous
    Republic, a sliver of Azerbaijan wedged between Armenia and Iran. He
    called his father a ''good Soviet'' and a major influence in his life,
    but some suspect that Heydar Aliyev, Azerbaijan's previous president,
    played a more important role.

    Mr. Aliyev, a former Politburo member, also came from Nakhichevan. In
    1991, he became de facto leader of the autonomous republic, just as
    the Soviet Union was falling apart and Mr. Ibrahimov was starting his
    first business, a limited-liability corporation called Ilkan. It is
    unclear what Ilkan made or sold, but in the early '90s, according to
    Avesta company literature, Mr. Ibrahimov built a three-story
    headquarters for Ilkan in Nakhichevan, which would probably have been
    very hard without support from someone powerful. Then, in 1993, Mr.
    Aliyev became president of Azerbaijan, and in 1996, Mr. Ibrahimov
    began Avesta.

    Opposition figures say that Mr. Ibrahimov owes much of what he has to
    the Aliyev family, but when I asked Mr. Ibrahimov about this, he
    shrugged. He said Avesta was not only a corporation but also a
    philanthropy, building water pipelines and mosques for poor villagers.
    He called Heydar Aliyev, who died in 2003, his inspiration, and he
    made a point of saying that he liked Mr. Aliyev's son, the current
    president, very muchand thought that he was guiding his country toward
    a more glorious future.

    On some level, there is an economic logic behind building the tallest
    building anywhere. The rise of superdevelopments in cities like
    Shanghai and Dubai sent signals to investors that the state supported
    growth. Usually, these sorts of developments first attract the
    attention of regional investors who know the local topography, which
    Khazar Islands has already done. Next are the more skeptical
    international investors whom Mr. Ibrahimov is hoping to impress. Hence
    the Azerbaijan Tower.

    Mr. Ibrahimov is not the only developer in Baku, and Khazar Islands is
    not the only major development. Flame Towers, which features three
    flamelike towers, includes a five-star hotel and at night will be
    lighted in red. The Heydar Aliyev Center, designed by Zaha Hadid,
    includes a museum and looks a little like the starship Enterprise.

    Nearly three years after Mr. Ibrahimov's vision on the Azerbaijan
    Airlines flight, Khazar Islands has grown to four islands, one bridge
    and 13 apartment buildings. All this development can feel a bit weird,
    or at least incongruous. As the Rolls careered through the outskirts
    of Baku, Mr. Ibrahimov became quiet. Unlike the United Arab Emirates,
    which was, until recently, a desert, Baku has a rich architectural
    history. I interpreted Mr. Ibrahimov's silence as a sign of
    melancholy, but in the front seat, Ms. Huseynli turned around
    excitedly. Glancing at the beige facades and narrow streets, she said:
    ''All of this soon will be gone. Then we will have a new city. I like
    the old, of course, the historic. ... But this will be gone, and then
    it will be a different country.''

    When we pulled up to the Avesta Concern Tower, in central Baku,
    several men were assembled on the curb and ready to escort us inside.
    After lunch in Mr. Ibrahimov's private dining room, we decamped to the
    office. He pointed out his artifacts: his desk, which, he said, is
    Spanish and the same kind used by President Vladimir V. Putin of
    Russia; a chess set from Italy; a sculpture of his father.

    He segued back to Ilham Aliyev, whom he called a great supporter. I
    asked him about other features of his regime: the lack of
    transparency, the lack of civil liberties. Mr. Ibrahimov said what
    oligarchs have been saying since Mikhail B. Khodorkovsky, the Russian
    industrialist, was exiled to Siberia in 2003: ''I don't know anything
    about politics.'' But businessmen are much more intimately woven into
    the political fabric of Russia or Azerbaijan than chief executives in
    the West. They may wear crocodile-skin shoes, but they rely on the
    state for extraction rights.

    Mr. Ibrahimov knows his place, and he knows it is best to be
    philosophical about these things. ''Don't ask me about politics,'' he
    said. ''I'm afraid I'll make a mistake. This is not what I'm good
    at.'' Then he started talking about his next big idea, which features
    more stratospheric buildings and eight-star hotel-palaces and
    heliports. He was sure all these things could be done. He knew it.
    There were important people - ''political people,'' he said - who
    support him.



    From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress
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