The 'problem' of Islam in Central Asia: Tajikistan

Tajikistan has always been the odd one out among the former Soviet central Asian countries, and this is certainly true in relation to Islam. After the Civil War (1992-1997), a deal was signed which granted the Islamic Renaissance Party (IRP) legitimization. The party, linked to islamists who fought in the war, remains as the only legal political organization of its kind with legal status in Central Asia (in theory, an excellent example of political tolerance). Nevertheless, developments in recent years make it clear that its existence as a relevant political player is under increased pressure from President Emomali Rakhmon, which certainly leave the door open for more violence in the country.

I travelled through Tajikistan in September 2012, visiting the Northern province of Sughd, the capital, Dushanbe, and the Gorno Badakhstan Autonomous Oblast (GBAO), in the Pamirs. It was a difficult period to be a tourist in the country: back in July, a conflict had erupted between local militia in Badakhstan and government troops, send to Badakhstan after a local authority was killed. Many analysts believe that the conflict was basically a move by Rakhmon to re-establish control over the region, which has by and large operated with autonomy from Dushanbe ever since the end of the Civil War. Other saw it as a move by Dushanbe to establish control over lucrative drug trafficking routes in the porous Tajik-Afghan border in the GBAO, which were under control of local leaders. Regardless of that, it was clear that the clashes in July were directly linked to a legacy of the civil war rather than to any sort of Islamic militancy.

But, interestingly, during the conflict, one of the leaders of IRP in the GBAO disappeared and, days later, was found dead. Up until now, there are no news about an investigation on this murder. Actually, this is not the first time that the IRP has been target of attacks that clearly have a political motivation. In the last years, the government has been keen on associating the IRP with political extremism, especially since the last wave of Islamist attacks in Tajikistan, in 2010. Some members of the government have even said that the IRP is “fundamentalist”. This is strikingly at odds with what the party claims about itself. Its leader, Muhiddin Kabiri, which graduated in a secular university, wear ties and likes a good shave. He and his supporters have repeated time and time again that what the IRP wants is a country ruled with Islamic values in mind (among them, peace, tolerance, justice) – which is the natural order of things in a country where almost everybody are muslins. There is no talk of creating a caliphate. Or Wahhabism. Actually, Kabiri's critis say he is too soft and accomodating in his dealings with the Government. Despite its lack of radicalism, the party not only has been subject to lies spread by those linked to Rakhmon, but also to arson attacks and other crimes, such as the murder of its leader in GBAO in July. Maybe Rakhmon does not realise that there attacks might even be increasing the clout of the IRP. The party has tried to reach the voters through social projects, helping people that the authorities in Dushanbe have not being able to assist. This people could decide to increase its support to the party if realises it is the target of a clear campaign of intimidation.

Nevertheless, the pressure over the IRP will probably increase until November, together with moves to control and supress any sort of opposition that could remotely be a threat to Rakhmon. In November, the country is holding Presidential elections, and Rakhmon is widely expected to win by a landslide. In the last months, a number of opposition figures have been arrested or murdered abroad (read some examples: here, here and here). There is no doubt at all about who is behind that. But even these pre-emptive strikes are not bound to guarantee a peaceful future for Rakhmon, and I am pretty sure he knows that. During my trip in the country, I was amazed to realize, talking to local people, how the locals disliked their own president. One friend in Khojand clearly stated that the people there hated Rakhmon, which has financed a huge cult of personality – his photo is there, in public buildings, in outdoors; his speeches are broadcast unedited on state TV every night. In the Pamirs, the hatred towards Rakhmon is even worse, especially after the bloodshed in July. But the president insists in keeping real power to itself and his entourage, who are linked to the city of Kulob, in the South. Other regions of the country have been marginalized under his rule: the Pamiris, the Khojandis (who ruled the country for decades under Soviet rule), the Uzbeks (an important minority). Suspicious of these groups’ intentions, Rakhmon has reacted by embracing his authoritarianism: there is no space for opposition or power sharing, only the elites who side with him have space in the government. All others should and are being suppressed.

To put in a nutshell, there is still a lot of regional tension, of the same kind that created the Civil War. In this current context, religion also plays a role, although a subdued one. Since the IRP has embraced a moderate tone which has guaranteed support by many Tajiks, the more conservative inside the party have become alienated. With time, if there are no changes to Rakhmon policies and the country continues to drown in poverty and inequality, there are grounds for a renewal of Islamic militancy, particularly in the Garm Valley (historically a more conservative region of the country, where islamists where based during the civil war). Rakhmon needs the IRP to keep those groups under control and avoid a return to full-blown conflict. This accounts for the fact that, amazingly, Rakhmon has not tried so far to ban the IRL or find an excuse to arrest Kabiri ahead of the November polls. But will the IRL still be a relevant force in the months and years ahead if it still agrees to be a systemic force in a regime where there is no space for a real political process? I am very pessimistic after what I saw in Tajikistan, and believe that regional tension tends to rise, creating an environment in which Islamist militancy can thrive. This, even though most of Tajiks are moderate and peaceful. Let’s hope that this tragic predictions turn to be false.

The ‘problem’ of Islam in Central Asia: Kazakhstan

In South Kazakhstan, traditional Islam is under pressure with the rise of conservative Islam, with uncertain consequences (photo: Ripley's Blog http://blog.ripley.za.net/)

If there is a sensitive issue in Central Asia, one that regularly is highlighted even in Western newspapers (which by and large ignore everything coming from the Former Soviet Central Asian countries), is the supposed “threat” of radical Islamism. Even before the attacks launched by the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan (IMU) between 1999 and 2001, there is some sort of hysteria in all countries in the region regarding the subject. Analysts usually appear in the media to speak about Salafist movements reorganizing their ranks in these countries, particularly the poorest, Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan. I, myself, have been a strong believer that something indeed might happen again in the region, some sort of conflict between Salafist militia and government troops, though I certainly did not and still do not know when this is going to take place. Moreover, I also believe that this can still be averted, but not with the use of force by the local authorities.

The problem of militant Islam in Central Asia, however, is not that it is a threat. The problem is that it has been used for a long time as an excuse by the local authoritarian regimes to maintain a tight control over the population, curb their freedom of assembly, faith, political mobilization and even dictate the “appropriate” way they should get dressed. This obviously alienates the population, particularly those who are practicing Muslins. When local leaders talk about conservative and practicing Muslins in their countries, often they use the word “terrorism” and “terrorists” in the same sentence. And seldom they take time to analyse the roots of radical Islam in Central Asia – poverty, lack of perspectives, unemployment, lack of channels for political engagement – and how to address these causes to solve the problem.

To add insult to injury, in the press, when analysts approach the problem, they often reverberate official views and issue opinions with very poor sourcing. Take this article, with the title ‘Revival of extremism in Eurasia concerns Russia`. The author starts by saying: “Recent developments suggest that extremist organizations like the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan (IMU) and Hizb ut-Tahrir (HT) are attempting to proliferate in Central Asia and Russia, and spread radicalism in Eurasia”. The recent developments listed in the article are 1) Uzbek authorities arrested 15 women in Fergana which are connected to Hizb ut-Tahrir. Hizb ut-Tahrir is not a militia, can’t be compared to the IMU, for example. They advocate peaceful means, even though, in the future, they would like to see a caliphate in the region like the IMU. But the Uzbek government treat them as “radicals” in the same way it would treat Jihadist with AK 47s, and the article simply reinforces Tashkent’s myopic view. 2) A Kyrgyz authority says the prisons are becoming a “major recruiting ground for extremists”. This can be true, but the article blindly presents this statement as a proof of the proliferation of radical Islam in the country, again just repeating something that supports a repressive agenda.

In this post, however, I intent to focus on the situation of Islam in Kazakhstan. Since 2011, when the Zhanaozen clashes took place, Astana has moved towards increasing its control over the already weak opposition in the country. But also in 2011, Kazakhstan was taken by surprise with a series of explosions linked to a hitherto unknown Islamist group called Soldiers of the Caliphate. This was a real strange development. There is no tradition of a strong militant Islam in the country – historically, Islam developed weakly among the country’s original nomadic population, with the notable exception of the South, where the Sufi Naqshbandi order has had a strong influence, particularly around cities like Shymkent and Turkestan. After the attacks, Astana adopted a new religious law with made it mandatory for religious groups to register with the authorities. The same law banned, for example, praying places in government buildings. Moreover, old practices that affect conservative Muslins – like the non-official but widespread discouragement of using Muslim clothing or long beards for civil servants – gained a new momentum.

I have reasons to believe that the Islamist attacks were used – and perhaps overestimated - by the Kazakh government to push their agenda, including the new law and also the view that there is no space for an opposition in the country. Talking to a former teacher who made some research in Southern Kazakhstan in 2012, I heard that, when she was talking to local practicing Muslins in Shymkent and Turkestan, no one mentioned the Soldiers of the Caliphate organization. The impression is that that was an alien movement, which, although had Kazakh members, was based overseas and did not take root in Kazakhstan. Following this logic, the attacks in 2011 would have been isolated incidents. Indeed, since 2011, not a single attack linked to the Soldiers of the Caliphate in Kazakhstan was reported. To tackle this “threat”, in my opinion, it was enough for the Kazakh government to quietly use intelligence (and probably it did). But the government made the “threat” appear much bigger than it really was, which reinforced the view that the country needed a strong government to maintain stability and harmony – the mantra repeated during the last 20 years by president Nursultan Nazarbayev.

This is not to say that there isn’t some sort of islamic threat in Kazakhstan. When I visited Shymkent in 2012, I realized that the traditional Islam, linked to the Sufism, was under increased pressure from followers of a more conservative branch of Islam which has not historical roots in the region. This, by the way, reflects a situation that is taking place in other parts of the former Soviet Union as well. The implications of this transformation in Kazakhstan in the future are difficult to foresee. But certainly South Kazakhstan could become a place more and more suitable for militant Salafists if the government don’t tackle the roots of the problem, such as poverty and unemployment.

In the next post I will focus on the appalling political situation in Tajikistan and the situation of Islam there.

What Kyrgyzstan can learn from Brazilian politics

Kurmanbek Bakiev was ousted in a revolution in Kyrgyzstan in 2010

Being myself a Brazilian, I am often tempted to draw parallels between the reality in my country and in Central Asia. I have never attempted to do it in this blog, though, since I believe these realities are like chalk and cheese. Nevertheless, by analysing the Bakiev conundrum, I think there are some interesting parallels to be drawn upon between Brazil and Kyrgyzstan, both young democracies, still developing their institutions.

In 1992, like many young people of my generation, I took to the streets to protest against president Fernando Collor, who, after a groundbreaking story published in the country leading magazine (Veja), had his reputation tainted beyond salvation. The story detailed his obscure dealings, linking him to a corruption scandal. Soon enough, the Brazilian Congress moved to impeach him. The fact that he forced to resign was celebrated at the time as a “victory of the people”, who organized mass protests to pressure MPs into removing him from power. However, even at that time, there were dissonant voices. Although weak, they claimed that, even though it was clear that Collor was not innocent, the masses were being exploited by powerful elites who did not like the way the government was conducting its affairs. The unhappy elites, so goes the hypothesis, were encouraging the protests, using the media to mobilise the youth, and we were all fools.

Some food for thought here: Collor was the first democratically elected president in Brazil after the end of the military dictatorship in 1985, therefore was under immense pressure to deliver – a pressure that originated from the Brazilian people and also from the Brazilian elites. He himself set as one of the core goals of his newly elected government to tackle corruption, going after the so-called “maharajas” on the public sector, people who earned a lot of money basically by doing nothing. The press in Brazil is controlled by few families, who clearly have their own interests and, conceivably, might use their newspapers and TV channels as a political weapon against a leader who did not have a talent for political negotiation. And Collor was quite young at the time – it is also conceivable that he might have thought that his election as president was enough to guarantee his victory against any political foes.

Now let’s move to Kyrgyzstan. This is a key moment for the country, since it is putting on trial the “legacy” of former president Kurmanbek Bakiev. He was ousted on a popular revolt in 2010, during which security officials fired against protesters near the presidential palace in Bishkek, killing around 90 people. At the time, like Collor, Bakiev was widely perceived as corrupt. People became sick and tired allegations of embezzlement and, to add insult to injury, of the constant black-outs. He was forced to flee Bishkek, first to his political base in the South, and then to Belarus, where he was granted political asylum and lives happily today. Last month, the Kyrgyz Justice sentenced him in absentia to 24 years in jail for his alleged role in the deaths of three people linked to the opposition in 2009. He is still being tried for the deaths of many other activists who took to the streets during the 2010 revolution.

Like Brazil, but certainly with a much more stronger tone due to ethnical differences and a nationalism component, there has been a struggle between elites from the South and North in Kyrgyzstan. Bakiev comes from the South and his power base was linked to ethnically Kyrgyz politicians who advocated policies who still raise tensions among the Uzbeks who historically are the majority in cities such as Osh (Kyrgyzstan’s second biggest) and Jalal-Abad. After the 2010 revolution, it was expected that the Northern elites would, like all elites do, make an effort to weaken the Southern elites and guarantee their grip to power for years to come. And one way to do it, arguably, is to emphasise, using the press or otherwise, the “bad influence” of the previous dominant elites from the South.

I am not saying that the Kyrgyz people is gullible when believe that Bakiev was a bad president. Certainly not – there are very serious allegations against him, relating to corruption or the deaths of protesters. The same goes to Collor in Brazil, I don’t think he was innocent of the accusations against him. But, regarding Bakiev, I, personally, believe he was an extremely lousy leader, especially because he allowed the Kyrgyz-Uzbek ethnic tensions in the South, a bad legacy of Soviet times, to rise without control, leading to the 2010 pogroms in the Osh region. Living in Bishkek last year, I talked to people and quickly realized that he was hated for many reasons - for not being able to maintain order, for not being able to avoid black outs, for being “a thief” and so on. During the winter blackouts in Bishkek last December, I asked some people there if that (the blackouts) was normal. “Yes, it happens often. But three years ago, during Bakiev, was much worse” was an answer I heard more than once. The environment in the Kyrgyz capital helps to keep alive this bad impression regarding Bakiev. Take a visit to the historical museum in Ala Too square as an example. When I was there in November, there was an exhibition dedicated to the 2010 revolution, leading one to see Bakiev as guilty even before his judgement. On the Chuy avenue, a monument erected in April last year (one year after the revolution) remind all passers-by of its victims. I understand the suffering and the trauma and agree that the victims deserve to be commemorated in the museum and in the monument. However, the government could have chosen not to do this, or to commemorate the dead in a more subdued way. Why did it choose not to?

In other words, I guess the Kyrgyz government is taking political advantage of what happened in 2010, exploiting it for its own benefit. It reminded me of how the Southern elites took advantage in Brazil in 1992. After Collor’s impeachment, his vice-president (a veteran from the South-eastern Minas Gerais state, Itamar Franco) took over. Then, in 1995 his former minister of Finance, Fernando Henrique Cardoso, from the Sao Paulo State (southeast), was sworn in as president. Granted, before the election, Fernando Henrique was given the opportunity to launch a successful currency reform which allowed Brazil to get rid of the scourge of inflation – a widely quoted reason for his election. But he was given the opportunity only when the Southern elites took power – he was certainly not linked to Collor. Fernando Henrique Cardoso would remain in power for a long time, until 2003.

Unlike in Kyrgyzstan – where not only Bakiev, but also members of his family and associated are being tried and sentenced –, however, Collor bore pretty much by himself the burden of the public wrath in 1992. After he was ousted, he was banned from politics for eight years and forgot by the press and the people. Now, he is even back to politics – he holds a seat in the Brazilian Senate. Moreover, obviously, the most striking difference here is that in Brazil there was no revolution, no blood. It was purely a political process. But many people forget that, despite the deaths in 2010, Kyrgyzstan also saw a political process, a change of power. Everything was also part of the political game. Who was behind the start of the 2010 revolution? Who, eventually, benefited from it?

A local analyst, Mars Sariev, quoted in the Central Asia Caucasus Institute website, says that the jail term against Bakiev is the start of a process of “political housecleaning” by the current Kyrgyz government, led by president Almazbek Atambayev. According to him, the Kyrgyz authorities “plan to launch a political purge against the former president’s allies who are still in power or plan a return to the political scene”. This implies that the Justice in the country is controlled by the executive and is being used against its enemies. An additional example of this alleged “purge” already underway is the trial of Kamchybek Tashiev, a former minister under Bakiev and a well-known nationalist from the South. His trial is mobilizing supporters in protests the South. The political use of the Judiciary against political foes of the regime is often noted in other former Soviet countries, like Kazakhstan. I see this analysis can be an exaggeration and I will not say that the same is happening in Kyrgyzstan. Instead, I believe it is undeniable that, without a transparent trial of Bakiev and his former associates, Kyrgyzstan risks a widening gap between North and South, with expected bad consequences. It is an especially sensitive issue because of the ethnic tensions and the fact that leaders like Tashiev are not shy of tapping into them for political gains. And this is, for sure, the key difference between Brazil in 1992 and Kyrgyzstan now. In Brazil, there were only regional elites vying for power in the political arena. In Kyrgyzstan, regionalism gets mixed with ethnical tensions and nationalism, and this is an explosive combination.

Besides brokering a transparent trial for Tashiev and Bakiev, the government need to find a way to bridge the gap with the Southern elites, but without adopting a course of action that would alienate the Uzbeks (here is one example of this taking place now). In other words, Atambayev need to be vigilant to the extremes of nationalism, but need to be able to establish an effective dialog. Conduct free and fair elections, but enforce laws that control political extremism. This is no easy task, and analysts are already forecasting a difficult spring ahead. But maybe Brazil’s pacific and democratic experience could give some insights to my dear friends in the Tien Shan.

Reassessing Stalin’s legacy in Central Asia

Last April, when I was in Almaty, I attended a conference at Kimep University in which researchers presented their ongoing projects and some of their findings. Among many interesting seminars I had the opportunity of watching there was a presentation by a young Kazakh post-graduate student. She was researching Stalin. More specifically, she was researching how Stalin’s image was subject to distortions – how almost everything said about the Soviet leader was absolutely negative, painting him as a monster, more or less in the same fashion as Hitler. Even before considering her arguments, I laughed in contempt. Who on Earth would consider Stalin anything but a monster? Who would dare to consider Stalin anything but a monster? But, then, I stopped for a while and wondered: maybe my own reaction shows a preconception that is not 100% true. Obviously, I am not saying that Stalin was good old Uncle Joe, a joyful leader with a nice and pleasant personality. But that presentation made me wonder to what extent all the bad things said about the leader are true, or to what extent we tend to exaggerate his bad legacy. Are all problems in the former Soviet Union result of Stalin’s policies? Are all problems in former Soviet Central Asia the result of Stalin’s legacy? This week, it will be 60 years since Stalin’s death. Maybe this is a good moment to reflect on those questions – without any intention of acquitting Stalin of his crimes against humanity.

There are at least three of Stalin’s core policies that are often mentioned when one talks about his bad legacies in the former Soviet countries of Central Asia. And they indeed created an awful lot of pain and are undoubtedly regrettable – no one here is disputing that. The first one is the drawing of “artificial” borders in 1924-1925, hastening the creation of separated ethnic identities in places where the people certainly had not developed such identities. The drawing of the borders in Central Asia was conducted after an investigation of where different languages where spoken, but also taking into consideration local politics. Then, Uzbeks and Tajiks were separated, even though, for centuries, they lived together, performing different tasks in their society. It is widely accepted in the West that some of the most important Uzbek cities – Samarkand and especially Bukhara – are actually more Tajik than Uzbek. Stalin ended up giving Samarkand and Bukhara to the Uzbeks due to the cunning influence of Faizulla Khojaev, the father of modern Uzbekistan, who led the rebellion against the last Emir of Bukhara. On the other hand, Khojand, a Fergana Valley city whose population has been for centuries Uzbek, ended up under the control of the Tajik SSR. So two things can be said here – yes, Stalin divided to conquer: it was ultimately his the decision to draw the map the way he did, separating Tajiks and Uzbek, who could not properly be separated without leading to tensions. But he was also manipulated by the local political intrigues (Faizulla Khojaev) and showed some sort of twisted balance mentality by giving one important Uzbek city to the Tajiks. Moreover, the formation of different ethnic identities in the region is not solely the result of Stalin’s policies. There were different identities for Uzbeks and Tajiks even before the Tsarist conquest (the Uzbeks, originally nomadic, the Tajiks, descendants of the sedentary Persian population) of the region and, during the colonisation in the 1800s, started to grow more noticeable. The colonization brought the ‘other’, the Russian settlers, to the region. By mirroring the other, the local peoples fast realized what made then different. Then there was the advance of the press in local languages with the Jadids, reinforcing the ‘we’ and ‘they’. Stalin divided the territory, but not created the divisions.

Other of Stalin’s often mentioned bad legacies was created by the exile of thousands of people from other regions of the USSR to Central Asia. Chechens, Ingush, Volga Germans, Koreans, Ukrainians and Meskhetian Turks were just some of the peoples who were forcefully removed from their homelands and settled in the steppes and mountains. The process was conducted with extreme brutality and blatant disregard for the well-being of the exiled. Thousands and thousands died in the process, not only due to the appalling transport conditions, but also due to the lack of any support once they reached their final destination. After Stalin, Khrushev allowed the return of these settlers to their homelands, creating problems there (since of course their land had been occupied by different people – an example is the Ethnic conflict between the Ossetians and the Ingush in the East Prigorodny district of the Republic of North Ossetia in 1992). But many remained, and after the collapse of the Soviet Union and the rise of Nationalism, the stage was set for ethnic conflicts (an example was the riots between Meskhetian Turks and Uzbeks in Uzbekistan in 1989). My view is that Stalin is guilty as charged of all the suffering of the resettled peoples. And he is guilty of creating the condition for the ethnic conflicts to happen – yes, he set the Ethnic time bombs. However, he did not detonate the time bombs. Who detonated them? Nationalists, who, with the weakening of the Soviet grip over multi-ethnic regions, took advantage of the situation and found in radical ideas a way of climbing to power. In other words, the conflicts were set by Stalin, but to say he is the sole responsible for them seems too much of a generalisation. Ethnic conflicts occurred and might still occur in Central Asia because of specific conditions – the lack of strong state institutions, poverty, opportunities of funding for armed groups. Furthermore, one can argue that the exile of peoples in Central Asia was good for the five Stans: the exiled peoples enriched the local cultures, helped to develop their economies, allowed the Central Asians to develop a more cosmopolitan view of the world and are now, after so many generations, undeniably citizens of the Central Asian countries. The important contributions of these peoples to the current Central Asian countries cannot be overestimated.

Finally, the forced collectivisation of farms is usually described as a tragedy for Central Asians and Soviet peasants in general. Millions died of starvation during the process, conducted with the Stalinist characteristic disregard for human life. In Central Asia, it is said that the Collectivisation was the final blow on the old Nomadic ways and eliminated the remains of the old rural elite. What is often left out when analysing Stalin’s guilt here is that the transformation of the Central Asian society, the elimination of the old ways, was started not by him, but by the Tsars. Thousands had already died during the settlement of Russians in the Kazakh steppes during the 1800s. And also, during the collectivisation, many Central Asians supported the changes and actively helped in the process. The Soviet machine could not have worked without the support of locals, who became the newly-formed Soviet elite in Central Asia. Stalin was not alone here. Central Asians themselves helped him to enforce the collectivisation and other bloody policies.

In sum, I believe that Stalin was, indeed, a “monster” in many ways - the way he enforced his policies, the terror he caused. But he was also the product of his environment. The agency is most important here, his personality undeniably led to the huge number of casualties; but I guess the debate is much more complex and, now, 60 years after his death, we have a good opportunity to review his legacy.

These crazy photographers and their wonderful Central Asia

Kim Lau (right) and our friend Iker (another travel companion and keen photographer) at work in the Pamirs in September 2012

Traveling in Central Asia has many implications. One of them definitely is to meet amateur and professional photographers going mad with so many interesting people and landscapes. It means also meeting people like me – lousy photographers who, for some reason, just find this particular region of the world the ultimate home of God, not exactly the Lost Heart of Asia described by Colin Thubron on his well-known book, but, more precisely, the Lost Heart of the World, the crossroads where this planet meets itself – the East and the West; the deserts and the seas; the powerful nature and the powerful humans who destroy the nature or create mesmerizing wonders out of clay and rocks.

I met some of these in one trip on Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan and Tajikistan last year. Kim Lau, a photographer from Singapore, was one of my travel companions in the most challenging part of my journey – the Pamirs in Tajikistan. It was not his first time crossing the mountains and deserts of my beloved Central Asia taking along his lenses and cameras – to be honest, I would never do it, I am far too lazy for taking with me such extra weight, my notebook and a descent camera-mobile phone were more than enough. On the other hand, I had the impression that not Kim, but Kim’s cameras, were the real travellers – he was their partner, or, better still, their guide, their producer. He showed me some of his photos and we talked a lot. This fascination with a different world beyond our comfort zone clearly united us. However, that was not the only reason that made him a great Central Asian photographer – inside his head there was also a magical creativity, the ability to make people feel at ease in front of the lenses and his tireless desire to go after the best images. Always. Despite the cold weather, despite diarrhoea, despite lack of descent food, despite lack of time on a tight schedule. He was there. Clicking. Here are some of his photos. I hope he doesn’t mind I didn’t tell him in advance I would be mentioning him in my blog!

There are photographers, though, that go even beyond that. Blessed with luck or turning the flow of life to create a dam-luck, there are people that end up living in some of the most remote places on Earth and have the opportunity of working on long term projects – long, I mean, years and years. I envy these guys as well. Here is one of them, the American Ivan Sigal, who unfortunately I have not had the pleasure of meeting in person. In his project White Road, he uses black and white images to show the world behind the walls of houses in Central Asia, Russia and Afghanistan between 1998 and 2005. Certainly not an easy endeavour, given the natural scepticism of Central Asians. His work, however, is breathtaking. Here below are some photos from White Road, and here is an interview with him.

My dear friends, you are so inspiring. Here is my tribute to you – I hope you never stop working, bringing us what most will never have the opportunity to see in person.

A Kyrgyz-Uzbek war looming on the horizon?

Hello, good to see you here again! I am back and will try to update the Observatory regularly. Hope you enjoy it!

2013 started with renewed tensions on the jig-saw Uzbek-Kyrgyz border. The region of the Uzbek enclave of Sokh, completely surrounded by Kyrgyzstan’s southern Batken province, was the stage of a violent confrontation between Uzbeks and Kyrgyz last month. The violence (read more about it here) has brought back bitter memories for both sides regarding the wave of ethnic clashes around Osh in 2010, when hundreds were killed. It also raises the question of what might happen next. Will we see an escalation of violence, even possibly a war between Uzbekistan and Kyrgyzstan to settle once and for all old disputes in the region? Or will the problem represented by the enclaves now be solved in a different way, diplomatically, something that both countries have been unable to do ever since their independence, 11 years ago? The answer to both questions is probably not.

Sokh (read more about the territory here) and other small enclaves along the Uzbek/Kyrgyz/Tajik border, such as Shakrimardon (Uzbek territory inside Kyrgyzstan) and Vorukh (Tajik territory inside Kyrgyzstan) are examples of puzzling Soviet geographic legacies that are very difficult to understand at first glance. It is an Uzbek territory, yes, but it is located inside Kyrgyzstan and is populated by mainly ethnically Tajiks. The whole region of the enclave, the Fergana Valley, was historically inhabited by different ethnicities, which had their communities living peacefully in the same cities and districts; therefore, creating borders here would always mean to generate artificial tensions. But that was the modus operandi of the Soviet nomenklatura – divide to rule. During the Soviet times, like in many other places of the Soviet Union, the Russians would act as brokers whenever tension arose. This helped Moscow to maintain control over the region. By the end of the USSR, the Russian pull-out created a power vacuum and, at the same time, led to the rise of nationalists all over the region. The most dramatic development of this new outlook in Central Asia was certainly the Civil War in Tajikistan (1992-1997), when local elites vied for control. Tension also rose because of the collapse of the Soviet Collective farm system, meaning that many farmers were suddenly forced to look for jobs in the cities.

In the Fergana Valley a process of Islamic renaissance during the 1990s had a particularly important influence after the fall of the USSR. The rise of the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan, a Salafist militia, led the Uzbek president, Islam Karimov, to adopt a tough line of repression against all Muslim mobilization in the region. Still today the valley is seen by the Uzbek authorities as a hotbed of Islamic activity, although clearly the idea that Islamists still hide in the region is used by Karimov as an excuse to exterminate political rivals and any sort of dissent in the region. The bloody incident in Andijon in 2005 shows the ruthlessness of the Karimov regime in dealing with any signs of instability in the region, but, on the other hand, the violence there also created problems to Karimov on the external sphere. The US, which hitherto largely played blind to Karimov’s abysmal Human Rights abuses, could not ignore such violence, and a period of estrangement followed. Now, however, Tashkent and Washington are forging a new alliance again (as can be read here and in my post in this blog).

In Kyrgyzstan, ethnic tensions have played a role in domestic politics, since Uzbeks are majority in important cities in the South (such as Osh and Jalalabad) and traditionally control most of the economy in cities in the region. The ethnic differences between North and South have been an important feature of Kyrgyz politics ever since independence. Kurmanbek Bakiev, the president that was ousted in a popular revolt in 2010, had the support of Southern leaders like Kamchibek Tashiev, who was his Emergency Situations Minister and in September of the same year granted an interview advocating the dominance of the Kyrgyz over other ethnicities in the country. According to an Uzbek leader from Kyrgyzstan, Bakiev’s rule marked the worst period of interethnic relations since the country’s independence, paving the way for the Osh clashes in 2010. After Bakiev was ousted, politicians from the North have taken over, first president Roza Otunbayeva and, since 2011, her political heir, president Almazbek Atambayev. The current president has pledged to work towards the unity of the nations in Kyrgyzstan by “never” use “ethnic labels”. Nonetheless, the tensions between the North elites and Kyrgyz leaders from the South are still pretty much alive; in October 2012, I was in Bishkek when Tashiev (who denies being a Nationalist) led a group of supporters on a rally in the capital and urged them to overthrow the government. He was arrested and is currently being tried.

Domestic politics considerations, evidently, play a prominent role in what might happen in the enclaves and are one of the reasons why I don’t believe the Sokh tension will evolve into a larger, interstate conflict. First of all, neither Karimov nor Atambayev have referred to the situation in the enclave using menacing words. Actually, it was certainly strange to see Karimov’s reaction. The Uzbek leader is known for its difficult relations with its neighbours, particularly Tajikistan, and for not hesitating in making strong and hostile statements which certainly do not please his peers. Recently, for example, he said that the tensions with Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan regarding the construction of hydropower dams by Dushanbe and Bishkek might lead to war. However, regarding Sokh, he was clearly keen on defusing tensions: he said the fracas was prompted by external agents (actually, one of his favourite quotes everytime there is a problem in the region) and agreed to pay compensation to Kyrgyzstan. One other consideration is Karimov’s desire not to generate further instability in a region that gave him so many headaches in 2005, with the violence in Andijon. Actually, such is Karimov's apparent preocupation with the Sokh issue that, according to a Kyrgyz MP, he is willing to sell the territory to Kyrgyzstan. Meanwhile, in Kyrgyzstan, a motion approved by MPs asking for Uzbekistan to apologise for the violence did not raise much attention. Atambayev has been busy with a subject that has been much more important to the nationalist opposition and was actually the excuse for the October 2012 rally in Bishkek – the contract with a Canadian company regarding the country’s biggest gold mine. A possible review of the current contract would certainly appease the Nationalist opposition and help Atambayev defuse threats from the opposition.

Economically, both countries also do not have any reason to start an open conflict. Both are clearly focused on economic goals, trying to attract foreign investment. The instability created by a conflict would certainly generate an uncertain scenario for investors which already entertain doubts over the business climate in both countries. The Kyrgyz government, for example, has recently passed a long term (2013-2017) strategy for sustainable development in which political stability in the country is clearly a foregone conclusion.

Finally, geopolitics also plays a role in stemming inter-state clashes over the enclaves. In a scenario in which there are widespread doubts about the effects of the Nato pull-out from Afghanistan in 2014, the US are particularly keen on seeing a stable Central Asia, in which Taliban militant might not find a safe haven, hence making the transition even tougher for the fragile government in Kabul. A renewal of nation-wide violence in Afghanistan in 2014 would mean that the whole American involvement in Afghanistan since 2001, with so many dead soldiers, was basically useless. Barack Obama and its Democratic Party would have to pay a steep political price for such defeat in the 2016 Presidential elections. Even if the Taliban does not represent a real threat after 2014, if Kyrgyzstan and Uzbekistan are unstable, the conflict might of course spill out across its borders into Tajikistan and Afghanistan. As in many international conflicts, an Uzbek-Kyrgyz war would bring foreign Islamist militants waging jihad and, moreover, open old Islamist wounds in the Fergana Valley. It is a risk that certainly the US would not like to take.

Something similar can be said about Russia. Recently bilateral relations between Moscow and Washington have definitely taken a turn for the worse due to the Magnitsky affair, and, considering that the US still entertain interests in Central Asia, there is simply nothing to be gained by Moscow with a direct conflict in the region. This is not to say that Russia simply doesn't care. Clearly they understand that the US forces should leave once and for all. A source of unease is the US military presence in the Manas airbase (near Bishkek in Kyrgyzstan), but Moscow seems to have the uphand now, since the Kyrgyz authorities have recently announced they will boot the Americans out by 2014. Should Uzbekistan invades Kyrgyzstan, Russia would need to enter the conflict on the Kyrgyz side, since Kyrgyzstan is part of the Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO), an organization which Uzbekistan quit in 2012. Given Uzbekistan recent renewed links with the US, a Russian involvement in such fashion would make, unnecessarily, bilateral (Washington-Moscow) relations even worse.

China, another big international player in the region, would also likely see any conflict along its Western borders as troublesome, since its two-pronged approach to Central Asia, focused on security and economy, would be in jeopardy. Security in the region is important for China due to the possible effects of a conflict on its unrestive Xinjiang province and its Uyghur majority. Uyghur militants are already supposed to operate in Central Asia, but a conflict might make it easier for them to mobilise and recruit in Kyrgyzstan. In terms of economy, Chinese investment in infra-structure has been intensive in recent years in the Kyrgyz Republic. China is busy, for example, improving Kyrgyz roads, therefore creating better conditions for exporting goods. Kyrgyzstan is currently one important channel used by China to send goods to European markets; whoever visits Bishkek’s gargantuan Dordoi Bazar is astonished to see the sheer amount of Chinese goods which make their way into the country. A conflict, of course, might create difficulties for Beijing to use the Central Asian channel in order to export its manufactured goods.

Notwithstanding the lack of reasons that could lead the tension in and around Sokh to escalate, it is worth noting that there are also no clear reasons that would lead Uzbekistan and Kyrgyzstan to reach an agreement in order to defuse, once and for all, the possibility of war in the region. In the past, negotiations took place leading to the proposal that Sokh would become part of Kyrgyzstan in exchange for a Kyrgyz territorial concession to the Uzbeks. The proposal, however, was never implemented. Uzbekistan did not accept Kyrgyzstan’s initial territorial offer. But the problem here is not territories, land per se – the problem is the implications of such a deal. Possibly these changes would have to be implemented with the resettlement of the enclave community, which probably see the land as theirs for historical reasons, which have been living there for generations. Would they accept resettlement? And what sort of impact would this have on the public image of Karimov and Atambayev? Both would certainly try to sell the deal to their domestic audiences as victories for Uzbekistan and Kyrgyzstan, while the local resettled population probably would not accept this and would see any change as a concession to the other side. I might be wrong, but would the leaders be willing to take the risk? I don’t think so.

In sum, I don’t think there are reasons to believe anything will substantially change in Sokh or in any of the enclaves. There are new fences been built, and still the traffic around Sokh has been restricted by angry Kyrgyz, but both governments will try their best to foster normality in the region. They will also remain vigilant, since there is always the risk of a new, localised conflict like the one which took place in January. Sadly, these conflicts will continue to happen until the local communities themselves forget Nationalist sentiments and demand resettlement. Or until they learn again to live peacefully side by side, like they once lived so many years ago.

The West is not very happy, Mr President

If I were President Nursultan Nazarbayev of Kazakhstan I would be very concerned with the long expected trial, which started this week, of 37 people accused of involvement in the violence in the Western city of Zhanaozen last year. The clashes between the police and striking workers left at least 14 dead (although different sources say at least 16 or 17) and, as I have mentioned in this blog before, were something unheard of in the former Soviet republic since its independence, 20 years ago. After more than one hundred days since the violence, it was expected that things were a bit calmer by now in Kazakhstan. Nothing could be further from the truth, however. While many Kazakhs in Almaty and Astana just want to leave behind what happened in December and enjoy their lives, this is definitely not the case in the West, in the Mangistau Province, and of course in Zhanaozen. Several reports from the region clearly show that the people there are still really angry not only about the harshness of the police during the clashes, but also about the aftermath of the violence and how the authorities are dealing with it. Reading reports on the internet, it seems that West Kazakhstan is moving away from Astana. A big gap is becoming wider: a gap between where the money and the elites are and where the natural resources (that make the elites rich) are. There, workers don’t have many reasons to celebrate the country’s impressive wealth.

In total, 37 people are on trial in Aktau, the capital of Mangistau, accused of crimes like arson, attacks on police and robbery. In the first days of trial, eight of them were singled out as the ringleaders and might be sentenced to up to ten years behind bars. Of course, most locals believe the workers are innocent and there is as a lot of scepticism about the proceedings. Do you believe the workers will have a fair trial? Nazarbayev said after the clashes that the striker’s demands during the long strike were justified, but probably forgot to tell the police of his opinion before the clashes. “I don't believe him (Nazarbayev) any more. The main values proclaimed by Kazakhstan's constitution - freedom of expression, of the press and above all human life - are empty words here," complained an old man quoted by Reuters news agency, whose nephew is one of the defendants. “It is the state that should be on trial”, said bluntly a pensioner to Eurasianet.org. For these people, the damage will take a lot of effort from the Kazakh president to be undone.

At first, the police didn’t even want to let relatives and friends of the defendants (held in a locked chamber in courtroom, see in the photo above) watch the trial, then, under pressure, allowed some in. They came a long way from Zhanaozen to ask for justice. As a matter of fact, there is a good question to be asked here: why is the trial taking place in Aktau and not in Zhanaozen itself, where the workers and their families live? Are the authorities afraid of the pressure? Also, the judge of the case barred the presence of the press in the courtroom. Why? What is the judge afraid of? One more question: what about an independent investigation about what happened? Why not, Mr Nazarbayev? What are you afraid of? An official investigation said some policemen were too heavy-handed, not much else. An no one knows when these policement will stand trial.

The trial is been followed keenly outside Kazakhstan as well. The NGO Human Rights Watch released a long message asking for a fair trial. In Brussels, European Lawmakers adopted a resolution on March 15 condemning the violence in Zhanaozen, asking for an independent investigation and for assurances of safety of family members of those arrested. But what is more important to Nazarbayev? To assert its dominance and show that he is still a strong leader (despite being 71 years old) or admit he completely mishandled the situation in Zhanaozen and beg his people for forgiveness? He needs to be humble now, not interfere with the trial, but I doubt this will happen. Actually (this is not a joke), the president has announced this month that he is going to write a book on how to become a leader. Perfect timing.

Apart from the 37 workers, other 11 people are being charged with a more serious crime, “fomenting social discord”, and will be tried later (no one knows exactly when). Amongst them there is at least one member of the political opposition, the leader of the illegal Alga party, Vladimir Kozlov, arrested in January. The authorities are linking Kozlov with another Nazarbayev political rival, Mukhtar Ablyazov, an oligarch based in London who, according to Kazakh investigators, channeled funds to support the unrest in Zhanaozen. Either the government became paranoid after the clashes or (more possibly) very rationally is still using the violence in the West to send a message to all opposition leaders, asking them “politely” to behave. Despite this, in the last months, the opposition has organised protests in the country, trying to exploit the feelings against the authorities. In the anniversary of 100 days since the clashes, several demonstrations took place around the country – although, apparently, not many people decided to join them. This doesn’t mean they are useless or don’t have importance. Quite the opposite, they mean a lot: they are a start, they are showing that something is wrong, they are a seed being sown. When the recent protests in Russia started, they were not considered important, but then thousands took the streets in Moscow and Putin, although elected, will definitely have to deal with a different Russia. Nazarbayev might be about to meet a different Kazakhstan.

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