Bright and early on Wednesday, September 18, in a conference room 24 floors above Fifth Avenue, a trade delegation makes its pitch to Seattle's business community: Uzbekistan, strategically positioned along the ancient "Great Silk Road" linking East and West, is open for business, America. Bring us your cutting-edge technology, and we will reward you with our bountiful raw materials and cheap labor.

So proclaims N. Khanov, deputy mayor of Seattle's sister city of Tashkent, capital of the central Asian republic. Khanov's group, fresh from a tour of fruit processing facilities in Wenatchee and armed with $55 million in U.S. government-backed loans for small and medium-sized Uzbek businesses to buy American, make their play at the Greater Seattle Chamber of Commerce in a Trade Development Alliance of Greater Seattle event.

Their presence indicates that September 11 may be the best thing that ever happened to Uzbekistan--or at least for its rulers. Last year, Uzbekistan--landlocked, dirt-poor, and stalked by Islamic terrorists--was off the American geopolitical radar screen. Now, the secularist regime of former Soviet apparatchik Islam Karimov rules supreme. The new U.S. ally--courtesy of an old Soviet base lent to GIs on the frontline of the War on Afghanistan--now receives American financing to buy American goods.

Still, one can't help noticing that the deputy mayor sweats, and repeatedly dabs his brow with a handkerchief as he speaks. If he's nervous, he has good reason--his boss Karimov has a nasty reputation. A 2001 State Department report labels Uzbekistan's human rights record "very poor," detailing the autocratic regime's routine use of torture, particularly against practicing Muslims.

But in Seattle, Karimov's record goes unchallenged. One attendee, apparently a previous visitor to Uzbekistan, does ask politely if the government's restrictions on movement have loosened. Khanov acts surprised. "What do you mean? There are no restrictions on movement in Uzbekistan," he exclaims, as if the thought were absurd. According to Human Rights Watch, on this same day an Uzbek court sentenced a man to seven years in prison for praying five times a day and listening to tapes about Islam.

Khanov's denial does the trick. One woman even suggests the delegation see if Washington-based Rick Steves, the comfort-loving yuppie host of PBS' European travel show, might cover Uzbekistan. Steves' endorsement did wonders for an off-the-beaten-path Italian town, she tells them. That the quaint Italian countryside is nothing like the repressive Third World atmosphere of Tashkent apparently escapes her.

sandeep@thestranger.com