Iran hunts down Kurdish Kulbars in Iraq borderlands

Al Majalla made multiple attempts to reach out to members of the Pour family, but they consistently declined to speak to any foreign media outlet, expressing concern about potential repercussions from the Iranian authorities.

A member of Faraj Pour's group, who asked to remain anonymous, gave details of the attack. The person said the group was transporting ordinary goods, predominantly women's cosmetics. While descending from the mountains, Border Police fired at them and then prevented the group from promptly transporting their wounded to the nearby town of Baneh. It took them more than two hours to get there after the incident.

Subsequent investigations by Al Majalla revealed that Faraj Pour had only worked as a Kulbar for a few years. He had been unable to secure a job or administrative position in the nearby cities of Saqez and Kermanshah. Drought and a struggling agricultural sector, with little support from the local authorities, meant there were no farm jobs. This also led him to the Kulbars.

No alternative

Al Majalla spoke to Kulbars in Iraqi Kurdistan and found that a significant majority possess educational qualifications, with quite a few having completed intermediate courses at vocational institutes or university colleges.

They come from rural Kurdish areas in western Iran or families displaced to major cities since the 1980s during the conflict between the Iranian regime and Kurdish groups.

Many of them faced challenges securing public sector or private employment in Iran due to discrimination against individuals from Kurdish areas.

They often come from families with social and economic positions hit hard by the decline in agricultural production and the wider economic slowdown caused partly by sanctions imposed on Iran.

Serious danger

And the work Kulbars undertake is highly dangerous: data from specialised human rights organizations show that approximately 8% of the members of the groups have been either killed or wounded in recent years.

One of them, Young Rafand, said: "If there were any other job, any work, we wouldn't be Kulbar." Rafand had recently experienced the loss of a colleague, Arslan Rasuli, who tragically lost his life while transporting goods in the northern mountain range.

Rafand gave a vivid account of borderland life in this dangerous profession.

"We usually bid farewell to our families when we leave home for the work site, and once we commence our journey from those sites, we begin bidding farewell to each other," he said.

The daily crossing earns about $20 to $30 for the round trip. The journey carrying weights of at least 40 kilogrammes over difficult ground. Alongside the weight, Kulbars shoulder the responsibility for both personal safety and the security of the transported goods.

In groups typically between 20 and 40 persons, Kulbars must deal with numerous security observation points and mobile military patrols equipped with the latest surveillance devices and snipers. The border guards are authorised to fire whenever they deem appropriate, without checks or accountability for their actions.

Twilight meeting

Kulbars are typically unaware of the specific goods they transport and often do not know the identity of the owners of the merchandise. Each group has a distinct Weshesh or leader.

They assemble before sunset at a designated point on the Iranian border. They then receive instructions to cross to a point on the other side, along with a password and the name of an individual responsible for providing them with goods to bring back.

Information obtained from both Kulbar and local sources suggests that these cargo transport networks serve influential figures in Iran who enjoy political and security coverage at the highest levels. The networks involve complex partnerships with various entities in the central government.

The transported goods include a range of items officially prohibited by Iranian authorities or subject to substantial taxes in relation to their actual value. Among these are women's cosmetics, mobile phones, spirits, certain fabrics, special medical drugs, and shoes and clothes from international brands.

These illicit materials find a distinct market inside Iran, primarily catering to what has become known as the Nouveau Riche class. The market value of the transported goods is many times the average income of middle-class citizens in Iran.

Elite buyers

This intricate web of relationships from Iran's elite to the Kulbars sheds light on many aspects of public life in the country and its realities.

The Kulbars are themselves victimised by the state, having already suffered from the ruling authority's neglect of its economic responsibilities and legal obligations toward local communities. Young Kurds are left without the conditions for a "safe and dignified life," even at the most basic levels.

And so, they become entangled in the Kulbar networks, effectively caught in a vicious circle. They must serve the interests of influential members of the powerful class while also being chased down by the state.

Routine killings

What is most astonishing is the apparent indifference of the Iranian authorities. For many consecutive years, the killing of Kulbars has become a distressing, routine practice.

Despite numerous reports from human rights groups and calls from political parties and unions urging action, the Iranian authorities have continued with the daily killings.

Reliable statistics indicate that the number of deaths in the past year alone exceeded 154, with dozens falling victim to accidents such as falls from heights, exposure to freezing conditions, attacks by mountain animals, or stumbling over war mines, incidents that have occurred on both sides of the border since the 1980s.

Kurdish civil activists and commentators have consistently appealed to Iranian officials to stop targeting Kulbars, who are the most vulnerable link in what the Iranian border authorities see as outlaw smuggling chains.

Instead, they are calling on the Kulbars to apprehend the leaders of the networks and the major traders behind them. They argue that such action is the only way to stop cross-border smuggling operations.

There are also calls for job opportunities to be created by promoting sustainable economic development in the borderlands to create alternative ways for the people there to earn a living.

Drunken horses

The internationally acclaimed Kurdish/Iranian filmmaker Bahman Ghobadi depicted the challenges faced by the Kulbars in his acclaimed film The Time of Drunken Horses, which earned the Caméra d'Or award at the Cannes Film Festival. Despite its impact on the Kurdish community, the film did not galvanise the broader Iranian public to view the Kulbar issue as a national concern.

Certain Iranian parliamentarians of Kurdish descent – from provinces such as Kermanshah, Ilam, Kurdistan, and West Azerbaijan – have voiced criticisms of the Iranian authorities' treatment of Kulbars in recent years.

But these lawmakers faced security and political pressure, forcing them to refrain from further expressing such criticisms.

Throughout all the debate, without change, there will still be tens of thousands of people who have little alternative to earning a living on the dangerous and uneasy paths followed by the Kulbars.