With a population approaching 30 million, roughly the size of Canada's, the Kurds are the fourth largest ethnic group in the Middle East, after the Arabs, Turks and Persians.

Their lament, of course, is that they do not have a country of their own, living as they do in parts of Iraq, Turkey, Iran and Syria.

A Kurdish woman shows off her ink-stained finger at the polling station in Kurdish Iraq in July 2009. There has been political stability in the north but not the economic boost Kurds were expecting. (Reuters)

Nor do they speak a common language or practise a single religion, although most are Sunni Muslims. Instead, what binds these dispersed Kurdish communities together is a shared and often violent history.

This is why the recent execution of Ali Hassan al-Majid, Saddam Hussein's cousin and loyal follower — known to much of the world as Chemical Ali — has been treated with such jubilation in Kurdish Iraq.

Almost as much as Saddam himself, al-Majid was the face of the slaughter that was unleashed upon Iraq's Kurds in the late 1980s, in particular the chemical weapons attack on the community of Halabja.

After Kurdish leaders, seeking more cultural and political control over the oil-rich north, decided to side with Iran during the Iran-Iraq War of 1980-1988, Iraq unleashed a policy of terror against its Kurdish population known as the al-Anfal (spoils of war) campaign.

Put in charge of maintaining order in the region, al-Majid played a leading role in planning and overseeing the operation, and in destroying the rural communities that were the backbone of Kurdish rebellion.

Change for the better?

Iraq's Kurdish region is often held up as a success story in the troubled history following the overthrow of Saddam Hussein.

Kurdish is now an official language in Iraq alongside Arabic. Hoshyar Zebari, a prominent Kurd is Iraq's foreign minister while Jalal Talabani, a former Kurdish rebel leader, serves as the country's president.

As well, the Kurdistan Regional Government (KRG) has had its autonomy over everything except foreign and defence policy officially recognized in Dohuk, Arbil and Suleymaniya, the three northern provinces under its control.

Depending on the outcome of a future (and long-delayed) referendum, the regional government's reach might yet extend to cover the province and city of Kirkuk, whose oil field makes up around 13 per cent of Iraq's proven reserves.

Perhaps most importantly, the violence that has plagued the rest of Iraq has not been seen in Iraqi Kurdistan.

The problem, though, is that very little of the change has trickled down. Much of the population, particularly outside of major cities such as Arbil and Suleymaniya, lack access to clean water, electricity and adequate hospitals.

More importantly, judging by a recent bout of very public protests, Iraq's Kurds seem to believe that their leaders are failing them and that they have not felt the improvements to their lives that were expected to follow the U.S. invasion of 2003.

Halabja again

Halabja is a good example. In March 2006, hundreds of Kurds, young and old, took to the streets to protest against government corruption, in the process setting fire to a museum built as a memorial to Halabja victims and destroying a monument erected in their honour.

In March 2006, Kurdish protesters set fire to the memorial to the 5,000 people killed in a gas attack on Halabja in 1988. Security forces had opened fire to disperse the protestors, killing one and wounding eight. (Twana Osman/Reuters)

They accused local officials of using the tragedy for their own benefit by pocketing millions of dollars donated by the international community for roads, hospitals, schools, access to clean water and job creation.

It was the largest protest Iraqi Kurdistan has seen in 15 years and was followed by several other violent demonstrations held in response to similar concerns.

That feeling of betrayal has not gone way. In late December, large crowds again confronted security forces in riots that broke out in Pirmargrun, a town on the outskirts of Suleymaniya.

Again, the demands of the protesters were the same: jobs, schools, hospitals, clean water, electricity. The KRG's response to these outbursts is that Iraqi Kurdistan is still trying to overcome the legacy of war and the brutality of Saddam Hussein.

Social and economic transformation, Kurdish leaders say, will take decades and they must be given time to craft the necessary policies that will attract more foreign investment, particularly in the oil fields that hold the region's future potential.

Movement for change

The fact that war-torn societies can't be transformed overnight is obvious. But at the same time the problems of Kurdish Iraq are much more complex and deep-rooted.

Opening a business here often depends on one's willingness to give a cut of the profits to one or both of the region's two main parties, the Kurdistan Democratic Party (KDP) and the Patriotic Union of Kurdistan (PUK).

The ruling Talabani and Barzani families have amassed impressive fortunes through their dominance of trade, private businesses and land.

The many civil society organizations in Iraqi Kurdistan — which the KRG regularly boasts about and presents as symbols of an emerging democracy — are almost always controlled by the KDP and PUK.

The same is true for the media and criticizing any of this carries the risk of imprisonment and even torture.

In July 2009, a challenge to the ruling parties was made by the Gorran (change) movement, which captured 23 per cent of the vote in local parliamentary elections.

Whether Gorran can succeed in cleaning up government is unclear as the Kurdish security forces are still ruled over by the two old-line parties and Gorran activists have already come under violent attack on occasion.

For all its promise, therefore, the future of Iraqi Kurdistan looks bleak.

The KRG could well end up fighting the central government for Kirkuk — which could lead to the dismemberment of Iraq.

And even if the Kurds win control of the oil-rich territory, there is no guarantee — given the power fiefs that exist — that these oil profits will flow to the poor and deserving, those victims of Saddam's brutality who had set so much store in the cultural and political rights obtained in the aftermath of the U.S. invasion.