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An ethnic Uzbek smiles as members of his family reconstruct their destroyed house in the village of Shark outside Osh, in October, 2010.
An ethnic Uzbek smiles as members of his family reconstruct their destroyed house in the village of Shark outside Osh, in October, 2010.
In keeping with my promise to make Qishloq Ovozi a forum to introduce younger scholars in the field to a wider audience, this article is by Matt Kupfer, a witness to the June 2010 violence in Osh, who offers a glimmer of hope for southern Kyrgyzstan four years after the tragic events there.

On the morning of June 10, 2010, the city of Osh bustled with the sounds of daily life in southern Kyrgyzstan: microbuses zipping through the streets, pedestrians strolling through the shaded downtown, and people bartering for goods in Kyrgyz, Uzbek, and Russian in the multiethnic city’s famous open-air market. To me, an American working at a local NGO, it was an ordinary day by any measure, and one would hardly have guessed that barely two months earlier a revolution had ousted Kyrgyzstan’s kleptocratic president, Kurmanbek Bakiev.

But, that night, life in Osh was shattered, seemingly for good. Fighting erupted between a crowd of ethnic Kyrgyz and minority Uzbeks, and quickly mushroomed into full-scale interethnic rioting throughout the city and neighboring regions. Four days later, plumes of smoke billowed over Osh, large sections of the city lay in ruins, and 470 people were dead. Another 400,000 were displaced, with many seeking refuge in Uzbekistan. Although both ethnic communities suffered greatly, the majority of the victims were Uzbeks.

In the conflict’s aftermath, there seemed little room for hope. Each ethnic group now spoke of itself exclusively as the victim. Uzbeks claimed the Kyrgyz were uncivilized and incapable of living in a democratic society. The Kyrgyz accused Uzbeks of attempting to secede from Kyrgyzstan or, worse, colluding with Islamic militant organizations.

In a climate of surging Kyrgyz ethnic nationalism, Uzbek businesses were illegally seized by Kyrgyz, and Kyrgyz families took possession of houses abandoned by Uzbeks. Most worryingly, the security forces -- later implicated by an international investigation in the transfer of weapons to Kyrgyz rioters and several attacks on Uzbek neighborhoods -- were now carrying out violent sweep operations in Uzbek settlements.

But now, as Kyrgyzstan marks the fourth anniversary of what locals termed “the war,” there may be a glimmer of hope.

The wounds of 2010 have begun to heal. Residents have increasingly grown weary of the tension created by the violence, and Uzbeks have gradually reentered city life. Most surprisingly, the government has finally managed to begin addressing political problems that seemed utterly unsolvable in 2010.

One of the clearest problems was the failure of security forces during the unrest. As scholar Erica Marat has argued, former President Bakiev distorted the military hierarchy and encouraged the police to be loyal to specific officials. Bakiev’s ouster destabilized this corrupt system, leaving security forces torn between the commands of the provisional government and pro-Bakiev local leaders. The result was a breakdown of order, with security forces giving into ethnic prejudices and becoming entangled in the conflict.

Today, however, Bishkek has largely reestablished control over the army and police. The administration of President Almazbek Atambaev has also subtly fought back against Kyrgyz ethnic nationalism, something that seemed impossible four years ago. Atambaev and a group of moderate officials have sought to co-opt certain elements of Kyrgyz nationalism while simultaneously advancing more inclusive civic ideals.

These efforts came to fruition in the “Concept on Strengthening National Unity and Interethnic Relations in the Kyrgyz Republic,” published in 2013. Incorporating the views of all parliamentary factions, ethno-nationalists, and civil society, the “Concept” aims to create equality under the law for members of all ethnic groups, promote a balanced language policy supportive of multilingualism, and form a civic identity among all citizens. Some of the ideas espoused are overly ambitious (the “Concept” calls for the creation of a trilingual generation of Kyrgyzstanis), but they do represent state efforts to build a more tolerant and, ultimately, safer country. And the drive for multilingualism is not mere talk -- in 2013, Atambaev refused to sign a bill requiring the entire state administration to exclusively use the Kyrgyz language.

These were not the only positive developments. In December 2013, the government fired Osh’s wildly nationalistic mayor, Melisbek Myrzakmatov, for participating in an antigovernment protest. The only Bakiev-era top official who managed to keep his post after the 2010 revolution, Myrzakmatov had repeatedly defied Bishkek and become a major obstacle to reconciliation. A month after his firing, Myrzakmatov ran for mayor again but was defeated by Aitmamat Kadyrbaev, a politician with similar nationalist views but greater loyalty to the government.

Finally, in April 2014, a Bishkek court reopened the investigation into charges that ethnic Uzbek human rights defender Azimjan Askarov had been tortured while in prison. Despite overwhelming evidence of his innocence, Askarov was sentenced to life in prison for the murder of a Kyrgyz police officer and other crimes allegedly committed during the 2010 unrest. The reopening of this investigation could be the first step in freeing Askarov.

These political developments were hardly imaginable in 2010, yet today they are a reality. But without further efforts on the part of the Kyrgyz government, these gains may very well be lost.

True reconciliation cannot happen on its own. The modern history of southern Kyrgyzstan proves this. In 1990, a similar conflict between Kyrgyz and Uzbeks over the distribution of land took hundreds of lives. The reemergence of interethnic violence only 20 years later suggests that historical memory of the conflict and the suffering it caused will not be enough to prevent future violence.

In the past four years, there have been many important reconciliation projects carried out by international organizations and local NGOs. Such efforts must continue. Meanwhile, the government must move to implement its “Concept” and build a more tolerant society. Efforts to educate the youngest generation about tolerance and human rights would be especially helpful in ensuring that this conflict does not repeat itself in 2030. Additionally, the freeing of Azimjan Askarov, as well as other individuals who were wrongfully imprisoned, would not only right serious wrongs, but also signal a desire to move beyond the past. Finally, security sector reform to inculcate greater professionalism in the police and military would serve as a serious, albeit very difficult step to ensure that the state could extinguish the sparks of future interethnic conflicts.

True justice in Osh -- finding those actually responsible for the crimes committed during the unrest and bringing them to trial -- is politically impossible. For this reason, justice must be future-oriented. Unfortunately, despite a glimmer of hope for interethnic reconciliation, many in Kyrgyzstan still remain ethnically polarized and unconvinced. As one Uzbek friend, an educated and otherwise tolerant man, told me, “Sadly, we are all ethnic nationalists now.”
Matthew Kupfer is a writer focusing on Central Asia, Russia, and the former-Soviet Union. His work has been published in EurasiaNet.org, Registan.net, and Eurasia Outlook. Currently, he is a Junior Fellow at the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace. In the fall, he will be pursuing an M.A. in Russia, East Europe, and Central Asia regional studies at Harvard University. In 2010, he was a witness to the interethnic violence in Osh, Kyrgyzstan and has carried out extensive research on the conflict.

You can follow him on Twitter or @Matthew_Kupfer
The Wakhan Corridor looking into Afghanistan and Pakistan, from Tajikistan
The Wakhan Corridor looking into Afghanistan and Pakistan, from Tajikistan
Central Asia faces a myriad of questions and unsavory scenarios as the end of this year and the withdrawal of the bulk of foreign forces from Afghanistan approach.

Recent violence along the Turkmen-Afghan border reminds the Central Asian governments that the clock is ticking.

Faced with a security threat that could destabilize the whole region, what will the Central Asian governments do?

That was the topic of a roundtable discussion hosted by RFE/RL’s Turkmen Service, Azatlyk, and moderated by service director Muhammad Tahir.

Participating in the discussion were Dr. Luca Anceschi, professor of Central Asian studies at Glasgow University and author of the book “Turkmenistan's Foreign Policy: Positive Neutrality and the Consolidation of the Turkmen Regime”; Ryskeldi Satke, a Bishkek-based independent security affairs analyst who is a regular contributor to Al-Jazeera, the Jamestown Foundation and other publications and media outlets; and I said a few things also.

As is customary, since Azatlyk hosts these roundtables, the conversation started with Turkmenistan.

And Turkmenistan is the perfect place to start a review of Central Asian responses to threats from Afghanistan, because Turkmenistan has never shown any interest in security or military cooperation with its neighbors.

As Anceschi pointed out, Turkmenistan gained official UN status as a neutral country in December 1995 and ever since has hidden behind this title to avoid entering into military alliances with other countries or multinational security organizations. Satke noted that rather than oppose the Taliban when they were in power in Afghanistan, the Turkmen government, practicing its official neutrality, chose to maintain a cordial, if unofficial, relationship with the new rulers of its southern neighbor.

That was when the late Saparmurat Niyazov was president. His successor, Gurbanguly Berdymukhammedov, seemed intent on continuing this policy.

But six Turkmen border guards and soldiers have been killed since February by people who crossed into Turkmenistan from Afghanistan, and it is becoming clear the policies of Niyazov are unlikely to work now. For one thing, Turkmenistan has been cooperating with the United States as a transit point to Afghanistan in one of the most (intentionally) underpublicized aspects of the Afghan campaign.

However, the official policy of “positive neutrality” remains and puts both Turkmenistan and its Central Asian neighbors in a quandary over what to do if Turkmenistan’s recent border-violence problems grow into something more menacing.

Anceschi said even requesting help would be difficult for the Turkmen government because Berdymukhammedov has been repeating his predecessor’s assurances to the people that the country’s neutral status ensured no one would invade or threaten Turkmenistan’s security, so there would never be a need for foreign military help. Simply the request for military aid “could start to erode some of the trust the people have in the regime,” Anceschi said.

As to who might answer such a call, the panelists thought the neighbors -- Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan -- were the most likely regional states to react quickly to a Turkmen appeal.

But even that is unclear so long as events in Turkmenistan do not directly affect the security of Uzbekistan or Kazakhstan.

The record of Central Asian cooperation when confronted with a common threat is not good.

In September 1996 when the Taliban captured Kabul, all the Central Asian leaders, with the exception of the Turkmen president, of course, were holding hastily arranged meetings and discussing dire possibilities. For a few brief months, they seemed to be working toward a coordinated policy.

But several things happened that wrecked those efforts at cooperation.

The Tajik civil war ended in 1997. One of the only positive facets of that conflict had been the willingness of Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and Uzbekistan to contribute troops to a multinational force (that also included Russia) to help guard the Tajik frontier with Afghanistan while Tajik government forces fought their domestic opponents. All those Central Asian “foreign” troops had left Tajikistan by the start of 1999.

When the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan (IMU) appeared in southern Kyrgyzstan in August 1999, it destroyed Central Asian cooperation.

Both the Uzbek and Kyrgyz governments accused Tajikistan of being lax in allowing those militants to use bases in Tajikistan, a charge the Tajik government vehemently denied. Uzbekistan accused Kyrgyzstan’s military of not fighting hard enough.

Tashkent obtained Kyrgyz permission to bomb the militants in the Kyrgyz mountains and did so, but it also bombed areas in the mountains of Tajikistan. Dushanbe protested loudly; Tashkent denied any involvement for days, then finally admitted it and never mentioned it again.

In 2000, when the IMU showed up again, Uzbekistan planted land mines along its borders with Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan and later refused to even consider removing the mines or giving either of the neighboring governments maps so they could do it themselves. Scores of people in Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan have been killed or maimed since then.

Anceschi summed up the chances of Central Asian cooperation saying, “There is no possibility that Central Asia as a whole can come up with a collective response.”

That being the case, what about outside help?

China came up immediately, since Beijing has poured billions of dollars into developing Turkmenistan’s gas fields and the construction of pipelines to bring that gas to China.

Satke reminded that at the CICA (Conference on Interaction and Confidence-Building Measures in Asia) meeting in Shanghai last month, which all the Central Asian leaders attended, China seemed anxious to play a greater role in Central Asian security.

But what sort of role China is willing to play in Central Asia and what sort of role the Central Asians would accept China playing are unclear.

Anceschi pointed out China borders many Asian states with security and stability problems and could be reluctant to set any sort of new precedent. Still, China expects Turkmenistan to fill more than 40 percent of the Middle Kingdom’s gas needs by 2020, and Beijing might not remain idle if those supplies were threatened.

That leaves the traditional power of Central Asia since the 19th century: Russia.

Russia seems the obvious choice as a guarantor of Central Asia’s stability. When the Taliban arrived at Central Asia’s borders and the IMU first appeared, the United States and China did not have much of a presence in Central Asia, and nearly all assumed that if the situation deteriorated rapidly Moscow would step in.

Russia has bases in Tajikistan and a base in Kyrgyzstan. But Anceschi said if Turkmenistan had to ask for Russian help to quell a security problem, it would only arrive in exchange for Turkmen concessions that would likely alter the form of government in Turkmenistan.

Satke also pointed out that when there were widespread ethnic clashes in southern Kyrgyzstan in 2010, Russia did not intervene. So it is unclear what role Russia could play in helping the Central Asian states confront a threat from the south.

The conversation touched on other matters and the panelists went into much greater detail on the points mentioned in text. For those who wish to hear the discussion, the audio of the roundtable is available here:
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-- Bruce Pannier

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About This Blog

Qishloq Ovozi is a blog by RFE/RL Central Asia specialist Bruce Pannier that aims to look at the events that are shaping Central Asia and its respective countries, connect the dots to shed light on why those processes are occurring, and identify the agents of change.​

The name means "Village Voice" in Uzbek. But don't be fooled, Qishloq Ovozi is about all of Central Asia.

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