The KRG’s Failing Image Rebrand: Erbil’s Green Belt and the Irony of Planting Trees as Masses of Kurds Uproot to Europe

PIcture Credits: Wikimedia Commons

Across the Kurdistan Region of Iraq (KRI), a political brand, built on image rather than substance, is now struggling to remake itself. Tree-planting ceremonies for Erbil’s new ‘Green Belt’, green corridors, reforestation drives, and clean energy dominate government messaging. Sustainable transitions and practices are much-needed and welcome, and the intent behind such proposals – at their core – deserves recognition. But there is a risk of these initiatives becoming another attempt to whitewash a governing system increasingly defined by violence, mismanagement, corruption, unpaid salaries, and a collapse in public trust. This is not renewal; it is a brand in crisis, and planting trees cannot save it.

Digital Transformation Before the Green Transformation

Before the environmental turn, the government attempted another rebrand: digital modernity. The KRG’s digital transformation project, KRG-DIT, promised e-services, digital IDs, and streamlined governance. Ministers framed it as a leap into a new era.

But the modern platforms rested on unchanged foundations. Salary arrears persisted and grew. Electricity remained unreliable. Corruption networks stayed intact. A digital dashboard cannot resolve a payroll crisis; a QR code cannot dismantle party capture; an app cannot substitute for structural reform. When the digital brand failed to rebuild credibility, the leadership changed colour palette rather than policy – from digital blue to environmental green.

A Quiet Withdrawal of Public Trust

Behind the rebranding lies a deeper crisis. Public-sector workers endure delayed or partial salaries. Youth unemployment remains high. Water shortages intensify, and the electricity supply remains inconsistent. Investment has stalled amid instability and drone attacks by militia groups.

The clearest signal came in Iraq’s November 2025 elections; only around one-third of eligible voters participated. Two out of three people effectively walked away. In some areas of the KRI, turnout reached historic lows. This was not apathy; it was learned disengagement.

Diplomacy as Performance

Alongside internal branding, the KRG has expanded its external image. More than 30 foreign missions operate in Erbil, and Kurdish leaders cultivate ties with the UAE, Saudi Arabia, Turkey, Iran, Germany, France, the UK, the US, and China. Such ties matter. But they also serve as a form of performance, projecting stability abroad at a moment when legitimacy is weakening at home.

Much of this branding mirrors the strategies of the KRG’s closest Gulf partners. Saudi Arabia and the UAE use large-scale development aesthetics, soft-power diplomacy, and nation-branding to reinforce deeply rooted legitimacy. The KRG attempts to emulate this model, but lacks the structural foundations – stable salaries, welfare provision, and hegemonic consent – that make such branding credible in the Gulf.

The Rise of the Foundation State

A parallel development has been the growth of elite-linked foundations such as the Barzani Charity Foundation and the Rwanga Foundation, as well as a wider network of party-aligned NGOs. They provide humanitarian assistance, youth programmes, and social services. On the surface, this resembles vibrant civic life. In practice, these organisations fill gaps left by state failures and often reinforce patronage rather than universal rights. As assistance becomes discretionary, visibility replaces accountability.

Two Parties, Two Brands – but the Same Crisis

The KDP and PUK increasingly rely on different branding strategies to maintain relevance, yet both face the same erosion of trust. The KDP’s brand revolves around diplomacy, digitalisation, and high-visibility development aesthetics. Its identity is outward-facing and polished; soft diplomacy, international partnerships, KRG-DIT, green corridors, economic forums, and media-friendly initiatives that project modernity while basic governance erodes beneath the surface. This is reinforced by a dynastic model of power – heavily entrenched in corruption – in which leadership passes from fathers to sons – Masoud Barzani to his son Masrour, and Nechirvan Barzani, and his son Idris – creating generational layers of continuity that protect the party’s image while limiting political renewal.

The PUK’s brand is different; personality-driven and populist, shaped by another form of family succession. Bafel Talabani self-models as an unconventional, energetic figure – styled on appearing young, informal, unpredictable, and publicly humorous. His persona appeals online, but critics point to a lack of policy substance and a strategy focused on jailing opposition party members (including family members) rather than offering solutions. Alongside him, Qubad Talabani – once the technocratic face of the party – has turned to lifestyle and youth-oriented branding. His embrace of combat sports and motivational content plays well on social media, yet highlights a deeper reality: Kurdish youth have largely disengaged from politics because the system, still dominated by the sons of established PUK elites, offers them no credible path forward.

What unites both parties is the same failing formula: image without substance. The KDP offers diplomacy-heavy, initiative-driven branding; the PUK offers personality-driven populism. Neither addresses the structural causes of a deeper legitimacy crisis.

The Irony of Planting Trees as People Uproot Themselves

A painful irony runs through the green campaigns. As trees are planted across Erbil, Kurdish men and women continue to uproot themselves from that same soil. The KRI has become a major source of irregular migration to Europe; families cross through Belarus, the Balkans, or the Mediterranean not out of ambition, but because unpaid wages (some owed up to $120,000 accumulated over a decade), job scarcity, party violence, and insecurity leave them with no future at home.

While the government celebrates reforestation, Europe debates a ‘refugee crisis’ in which thousands of those arriving are Kurds escaping the very conditions these green initiatives gloss over. Kurdish migration is now highly visible in British and European media; BBC documentaries on Channel crossings, Sky News investigations into Kurdish smuggling routes, and features tracing Kurdish journeys through frozen forests, border camps, and dinghies. Kurdish stories shape the UK’s asylum debate, especially in exposing the scale of desperation driving people out. A greener skyline cannot conceal a harder truth: the state plants trees while its people are forced to pull up their roots.

A Politics Built on Facades

Taken together – digital transformation branding, environmental campaigns, foundation-led welfare, and diplomatic visibility – the pattern is clear. The ruling parties are repackaging rather than reforming. These initiatives create the appearance of motion even as the foundations weaken. People want security, regular pay, reliable electricity, clean water, functioning institutions, and predictable governance. They want a state, not another campaign.

What Real Development Requires

The KRI has enormous potential: strategic geography, international goodwill, and a skilled young population that could be mobilised within, rather than forced out. But genuine development requires confronting the structural crises that no green initiative or digital application can resolve. Reform must address unpaid salaries, party interference in institutions, and the need to diversify an economy dominated by political families.

Without this, every new initiative risks looking like a rebrand rather than a solution – a fresh coat of paint on walls with ever-widening cracks. Planting trees may help the environment. But it cannot rescue a political brand rooted in the practices it now tries to bury beneath fresh soil.