The Euromaidan protests that took place during winter 2013–2014, in Ukraine, have cast their shadow over Tajikistan. The short-term effect of the protests (particularly the Russian response), along with the increasingly violent and intractable nature of the civil war in Syria, makes comparable protests unlikely in Tajikistan in the near to medium term. However, this has not kept some from trying.
Earlier this month, the opposition figure Umarali Quvatov called for protests to take place in Dushanbe on October 10. Quvatov, the exiled leader of the now banned opposition organization “Group 24,” enjoys limited popularity, and the protests failed to materialize. Despite Quvatov’s lack of broad appeal, the government responded to his call by beefing up security in the capital and blocking websites and text message services. Some media outlets reported that President Emomali Rahmon even invited 800 Chinese troops into the capital to help suppress potential protests, although it remains unclear if these allegations are true or simply misinformation emanating from Quvatov and his camp (BBC Tajiki, October 13).
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Incidents this past year in the semi-autonomous region of Gorno-Badakhshan (see EDM, April 29) have demonstrated that the regime is willing to use lethal force to suppress public displays of dissent, which may further dampen the appetite for protest. One of the most widely cited reasons for the unlikelihood of protests is the fact that a significant percentage of Tajikistan’s military-age men live in Russia as migrant laborers. If this diversion of manpower does prove to be a crucial factor in forestalling protest movements in Tajikistan, it might prove a pyrrhic victory for the regime for three reasons:First, over the long run, the domestic economic hardships that drive Tajikistani laborers to Russia in search of work may exacerbate their underlying grievances against the regime. This would particularly be the case if a sudden change in Russian migration policy led to quotas or deportations that drastically reduced the number of Tajikistani migrants. Despite its reliance on cheap labor, Russia has a long history of threatening such actions as a way of extracting concessions from Dushanbe. A sudden and large repatriation of Tajikistani migrant labors with no means of supporting their families would have negative consequences for regime stability.
Second, long-term mass labor migration has considerable effects on Tajikistani social—and by extension—political dynamics. While regionalism, entrenched patronage networks, and loyalty to local strong men have hampered Rahmon’s ability to fully consolidate power in a centralized government, the existence of local power brokers do at least provide him with a finite (and familiar) number of interlocutors to deal with in times of crisis. Recent history is replete with examples of Rahmon using a combination of threats and inducements to compel local strong men to bring themselves (and their constituents) into line. Mass labor migration, however, may erode traditional patronage networks and regional identities, thereby degrading the ability of local strong men to “deliver” their constituents. The aforementioned Mirzohuja Ahmadov, who rejected calls for domestic street protests in Tajikistan, is a prime example of the trajectory of a regional war lord–turned Rahmon ally. A reader response to an interview with Ahmadov on Radio Free Europe’s Tajik-language website, however, is indicative of the potentially evolving sentiment of migrant laborers: “Mr. Ahmadov, do not speak for all of the Gharmis, I am a migrant in Moscow and I support Umarali Quvatov one hundred percent” (Ozodi, October 11). “Gharmis” refers to people who live in, or trace their lineage back to, the region of Gharm in Tajikistan.
And third, the process of de-regionalization and the leveling of local political hierarchies could be a force for good as it opens the door for competing political and religious ideas. However, recent reports of Tajikistani citizens being radicalized in Russia and recruited to fight with the Islamic State (formerly known as the Islamic State in Iraq and Syria—ISIS) show how dangerous ideas can also metastasize in these communities (RFE/RL, October 2; see EDM August 7, 2013).
Since the start of the anti-government protests in Ukraine, and the ensuing Russian invasion of the country, the Ukraine crisis has raised a great deal of apprehension inside Tajikistan. And in large part due the population’s distrust of mass protests as a spark for anarchy, combined possibly with the large number of young Tajikistani men working in Russia, so far mass protest movements have not materialized. Yet, the country’s economic reliance on labor migration to Russia, the political effect of mass labor migration on traditional patronage networks, as well as concerns of greater ease of extremist ideology spreading through inter-mixed uprooted communities could help reverse this situation over the long term. All these factors call for more careful scrutiny, as it is possible that the reasons that have made Euromaidan-style protests in Tajikistan unlikely in the short term could lead to more radical and violent opposition in the medium to long term.
Category: Language
Silk Road Reporters
Since Russia’s annexation of Crimea in March, Western nations have imposed sanctions on Russia, including on its financial and energy sectors, as well as on a number of Russian nationals in President Vladimir Putin’s inner circle. In response, on Aug. 6 Putin imposed year-long food bans on the United States, European Union member states, Australia, Canada and Norway. Russia has also banned the transit of agricultural goods from Belarus and Kazakhstan following its embargo on EU food imports.
From the $43 billion of agricultural products Russia purchased abroad in 2013, $25 billion are now banned. According to Russian statistics, imports accounted for about 40 percent of household spending on food.
For the older Russian consumers this echoes memories of empty Soviet supermarkets, while the ban will likely spur inflation, currently hovering at about 7 percent this year.
Henry Rollins: How the Soviets Nearly Ruined Central Asia – Los Angeles | Los Angeles News and Events | LA Weekly
I am a week into my visit to Central Asia. Besides a two-day excursion into Tajikistan, I’ve been here in Uzbekistan.
The border crossing from Uzbekistan to Tajikistan was one of the coolest and strangest I have made.
I often have a déjà vu sensation when going from one country to another, especially in cold weather. It started when I would pass through East Germany to get to West Germany. The East Germans would always regard us and our van with suspicion and barely concealed hostility. They had a way of leaning into the front windows so the barrels of their rifles would point at your eyes.
It is at the crossing point where either country can decide it doesn’t want you, and you could be in for quite an ordeal. That happened to me once on tour, trying to get out of Hungary and into Austria. The Hungarians were done with us but the Austrians were not a bit pleased with the idea of us in their country. We sat in a no man’s land for a long time, our dreams of soundcheck disappearing before we were finally allowed to enter.
On the day I was to cross into Tajikistan, I was warned by my Uzbek guide that the questioning and searches could be extreme. I went in and gave the Uzbek border officer my passport. She asked me why I was in Uzbekistan and wanted to go to Tajikistan. I gave her my whole rap about the only way to know about any place is to go, so here I was.
She and all the other heavily uniformed officers simultaneously lit up. They enthusiastically thanked me for coming all the way out to visit and fairly tossed me through the back of the building.
Suddenly, I was alone on a road. It’s a fair walk to the Tajik border.
Finally I arrived at a gate. A Tajik guard looked at my passport and pointed me onward. About a city block later, I was at a window. I gave the man my passport. He looked at me, pointed and said, “Beckpeck hevee!” He gave me the stamp and I was in Tajikistan.
My guide, conveniently named Chris, walked up and introduced himself. We got in his car and off we went to Khujand city centre.
Russia’s ruble collapse shakes Central Asian neighbours
While people in Moscow are already queueing outside foreign exchange shops to get rid of the ruble, eyeing the current 9.1% price inflation rate, neighbours of the “Russian bear” are likely trembling in fear.
Until a year ago, the Russian economy was flying high on the wings of a seemingly endless oil-fuelled boom, which showered economic migrants with hard cash to send back to their origin country. With the economic depression on the horizon and investors pulling their money out of the country by the billion each month, Russian companies have already started cutting wages and making redundancies.
Poor former Soviet republics with a troubled recent past like Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan are suffering the most. Millions of Tajik migrants live in Russia and send much of their salary back home. According to World Bank data, remittances in Tajikistan make up 42.1 % of the Central Asian republic’s GDP, making it the world’s biggest recipient.
A staggering 60% of those remittances come from Russia. If we consider that over a million Tajiks – half of the country’s workforce – work in the giant neighbouring country, we see why Russia’s incoming economic depression may potentially wreck those countries.
Neighbouring Kyrgyzstan is in a similarly desperate situation. The small mountainous state has a 32% share of GDP of remittances.
It has been calculated that Tajik growth will slow to 6.5% this year from 7.4% in 2013 as a result of the drop in worker remittances in the January-September period. Both Tajikistan, a state of 8 million, and Kyrgyzstan have a troubled post-soviet past. From 1992 to 1997, a civil war marred the prospect of economic growth in Tajikistan, which borders with Afghanistan and China.
Central Asia’s Hydropower Spat | The Diplomat
Uzbekistan continues its quest to choke its two poorer neighbors’ plans to attain and secure energy independence. During an official visit to Kazakhstan late November, Uzbek President Islam Karimov made sure to bring up the “dangers” the hydropower plants Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan want to build could pose. According to Karimov, the plans are “not coordinated with countries downstream,” i.e. Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan. Flanked by Kazakh President Nursultan Nazarbayev, Karimov said, “We have affirmed our common position regarding the construction of new hydro technical facilities upstream of the Syr Darya and Amu Darya Rivers, which must strictly conform to recognized norms of international law and UN conventions as well as mandatory coordination with all countries located in the lower reaches of these rivers.”
Karimov conveniently forgets his administration bills Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan for natural gas exports. Moreover, said gas is frequently shut off as a means of coercing the two countries, which are planning to build power-generating facilities on Central Asia’s two largest rivers. For instance, Kyrgyzstan has been struggling with not just a shortage but an absence of Uzbek gas, for most of 2014. Because mountainous Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan sit high above sea level, harsh winters create shortages of already scarce electricity, and any insufficiency of Uzbek gas only makes the two countries more anxious to secure energy independence.
From Russia With Love?
Despite Tashkent’s tactics, Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan, which together own nearly 70 percent of the waters that flow into the dwindling Aral Sea, remain deaf to Uzbekistan’s demands and warnings of “water wars.” This is thanks in part to Russia. The Kremlin has not only been voicing its support for plans to revive the Soviet-era projects, it has actually invested millions of dollars in the idea. Russian President Vladimir Putin personally travelled to Bishkek and Dushanbe, the two regional hosts of Russian military bases, to sign bilateral agreements to that effect. On top of Russia’s support, Tajikistan secured the World Bank’s “green light” for what is expected to be the tallest dam in the world: Rogun at 335 meters. Meanwhile, Kyrgyzstan was actually able to launch parts of a cascade of Russia-funded hydropower stations.
If giving money and throwing political support behind Kyrgyz and Tajik energy initiatives is the Kremlin’s carrot, the stick it may wish to use can hit both sides of the conflict. Toughening conditions for millions of Kyrgyz, Tajik and Uzbek migrant laborers in Russia, thereby indirectly forcing them to return to their homelands, is a tool Moscow has used frequently in the past. And this time around these migrants could thwart Uzbekistan’s attempts to prevent Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan from building dams. The sanctions the West slapped on Russia for Crimea and Ukraine have obvious implications for millions of Central Asians seeking work in Russia. On top of this, a report the International Monetary Fund (IMF) released in November suggests that falling prices of oil coupled with sanctions will negatively impact the Russian economy next year, sending shockwaves across Central Asia. These factors could lead some migrants to return from Russia, permanently.
The return of even a portion of the migrants to join the growing local populations would put Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan under pressure. Ironically, therefore, both sides of the water conflict equally need it: Uzbekistan needs water to keep tens of thousands of returnees busy on agriculture fields, lest they voice discontent with the government’s inability to employ them, while Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan need water to generate electricity to keep their own returning migrants from taking to the streets in protest. No sane Tajik or Kyrgyz politician would back down in the face of such challenges.
Russia’s Neighbors Scramble To Cope With Ruble’s Tribulations
Despite more than two decades of separation, the economies of the region remain deeply interconnected. Currencies throughout the region — from the Moldovan leu to the Kazakh tenge have seen drops in value of between 10 and 20 percent this year. Governments are watching with concern as their exports become increasingly expensive for customers in their giant neighbor.
Here’s how some of Russia’s neighbors are reacting to the ruble’s turbulence.
Russia's Neighbors Scramble To Cope With Ruble's Tribulations.
Uzbekistan Seeks to Reinvigorate Diplomatic Clout In Region – Analysis – Eurasia Review
Since the fall of 2014, Tashkent has been boosting diplomatic engagement with its neighbors. In particular, Uzbekistan’s President Islam Karimov met with President Emomali Rahmon of Tajikistan in Dushanbe on September 11 (press-service.uz September 13, 2014), and visited Turkmenistan on October 23–24 (press-service.uz October 25), and Kazakhstan on November 24–25 (press-service.uz November 26). Two critical issues have pushed Uzbekistan to reinvigorate its diplomatic efforts in its immediate neighborhood—the future of water and energy use in Central Asia, as well as the forthcoming pull-out of Western military forces from Afghanistan.
In July 2014, to Uzbekistan’s utter indignation, the World Bank’s Fifth and Final Riparian Meetings on Rogun Assessment Studies, held in Almaty, technically gave a green light to the construction of the Rogun Hydro Power Project in Tajikistan (worldbank.org, July 18). Appealing also on behalf of other downstream Central Asian countries like Kazakhstan and Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan found the World Bank study’s conclusions “unsatisfactory and insufficient to form a qualified opinion” and categorically affirmed that “Uzbekistan will never under any circumstances provide support for this project” (mfa.uz, August 1). Tashkent’s discontent was mainly twofold—construction work at the Rogun site was never halted, even as Tajikistan waited for the feasibility study’s conclusion, and the World Bank allegedly did not take into consideration Uzbekistan’s concerns over the project’s environmental implications or considered building a series of smaller hydro-power stations instead.
Interestingly, Tajikistan is the only case in which Uzbekistan seeks outside backing via multilateral and international engagement. Tashkent prefers to deal with all other countries and address issues of global politics on a bilateral basis. But the current tangle of contradictions regarding Central Asia’s water and energy resources has arisen due to the gradual dissolution of the Central Asian Power Grid System, from which the downstream states of Turkmenistan, Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan withdrew (the first in 2003, and the latter two in 2009) due to the upstream Kyrgyz Republic and Tajikistan both syphoning off electricity without due payment. This Grid System is still Central Asia’s most important energy and water dispatcher network, which links the entire region, and it functioned in central Tashkent throughout the Soviet period (Russiancouncil.ru, April 2, 2012). Consequently, not only has the transit of Turkmenistani electricity to Tajikistan and the shipment of Kyrgyzstani electricity to Kazakhstan been paralyzed, but the supply of electricity to Uzbekistan’s southern provinces has also partly malfunctioned due to the Grid System’s fragmentation.
Issues of water use and the energy deadlock are particularly acute between Uzbekistan and Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan—even though bilateral Treaties of Friendship, Good-Neighborhood and Cooperation, and Eternal Friendship have been in force for decades among these three neighbors. Nonetheless, diverse national interests regarding the use of upstream hydro-power stations for energy by Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan, as opposed to downstream Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan’s use of the water for irrigation leads to serious regional conflicts. And this situation is further exacerbated by the downstream agrarian communities’ rampant inefficient water use (Nature.com, October 1).
Uzbekistan Seeks to Reinvigorate Diplomatic Clout In Region – Analysis – Eurasia Review.
Voter Education Campaign in Tajikistan | OSCE
Before Tajikistan’s presidential elections in 2013, the OSCE Office in Tajikistan, in co-operation with the Central Commission for Elections and Referenda conducted a door-to-door, person-to-person voter education campaign throughout the country. The campaign targeted women and potential first-time voters. From 22 October until 4 November, 60 voter educators reached 115,037 voters explaining procedures for casting a ballot and that proxy voting is prohibited.
Breaking the Vase: How women are becoming border guards in Central Asia and Afghanistan | OSCE
The ‘vase’ has been slowly shattering in many countries as law enforcement agencies, somewhat hesitatingly, have opened their doors to women. Border police services are arguably one of the last outposts reluctant to include women in their ranks. The reluctance has often been mutual, with few women relishing postings away from home and family, in isolated and hostile locations, working for long periods alongside large numbers of men.
The strategic shift from viewing border guards as responsible for defence of the state to protection of citizens – and thereby easing the ‘unhampered flow’ of goods, persons and services – has demanded not only reform and expansion but inclusivity. Representative law enforcement institutions have become an operational necessity.
The 21st century has witnessed a massive increase in mobility and the numbers of labour migrants, with more women crossing borders primarily for trade and employment but also for education, marriage and adventure. The vast majority, looking for employment opportunities and the doorway to a better life for their families, are among the poorest, the least educated and skilled women, with limited employment options.
In May 2014, the OSCE Border Management Staff College introduced its first all-women staff course. The course content included the standard topics ranging from management models to information-sharing, migration, human trafficking and smuggling, counter-terrorism, anti-corruption measures, conflict management and leadership. There was also a two-day Train the Trainers session and a requirement for group research and presentation on selected topics.
Participants included twenty-five mid and senior-level female officers of the border, customs and drug control agencies of Afghanistan, Belarus, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Lithuania, Moldova, Mongolia, Montenegro, Romania and Tajikistan.
Breaking the Vase: How women are becoming border guards in Central Asia and Afghanistan | OSCE.
From a text at project gutenburg: PERSIAN LITERATURE
comprising
THE SHÁH NÁMEH, THE RUBÁIYÁT THE DIVAN, AND THE GULISTAN
Revised Edition, Volume 1, 1909
With a special introduction by
RICHARD J. H. GOTTHEIL, Ph.D.
The greatest of all Eastern national epics is the work of a Persian. The “Sháh Námeh,” or Book of Kings, may take its place most worthily by the side of the Indian Nala, the Homeric Iliad, the German Niebelungen. Its plan is laid out on a scale worthy of its contents, and its execution is equally worthy of its planning. One might almost say that with it neo-Persian literature begins its history. There were poets in Persia before the writer of the “Sháh Námeh”—Rudagi, the blind (died 954), Zandshi (950), Chusravani (tenth century). There were great poets during his own day. But Firdusi ranks far above them all; and at the very beginning sets up so high a standard that all who come after him must try to live up to it, or else they will sink into oblivion.
The times in which Firdusi lived were marked by strange revolutions. The Arabs, filled with the daring which Mohammed had breathed into them, had indeed conquered Persia. In A.D. 657, when Merv fell, and the last Sassanian king, Yezdegird III, met his end, these Arabs became nominally supreme. Persia had been conquered—but not the Persian spirit. Even though Turkish speech reigned supreme at court and the Arabic script became universal, the temper of the old Arsacides and Sassanians still lived on. It is true that Ormuzd was replaced by Allah, and Ahriman by Satan. But the Persian had a glorious past of his own; and in this the conquered was far above the conqueror. This past was kept alive in the myth-loving mind of this Aryan people; in the songs of its poets and in the lays of its minstrels. In this way there was, in a measure, a continuous opposition of Persian to Arab, despite the mingling of the two in Islam; and the opposition of Persian Shiites to the Sunnites of the rest of the Mohammedan world at this very day is a curious survival of racial antipathy. The fall of the only real Arab Mohammedan dynasty—that of the Umayyid caliphs at Damascus—the rise of the separate and often opposing dynasties in Spain, Sicily, Egypt, and Tunis, served to strengthen the Persians in their desire to keep alive their historical individuality and their ancient traditions.
Firdusi was not the first, as he was not the only one, to collect the old epic materials of Persia. In the Avesta itself, with its ancient traditions, much can be found. More than this was handed down and bandied about from mouth to mouth. Some of it had even found its way into the Kalam of the Scribe; to-wit, the “Zarer, or Memorials of the Warriors” (A.D. 500), the “History of King Ardeshir” (A.D. 600), the Chronicles of the Persian Kings. If we are to trust Baisonghur’s preface to the “Sháh Námeh,” there were various efforts made from time to time to put together a complete story of the nation’s history, by Farruchani, Ramin, and especially by the Dihkan Danishwar (A.D. 651). The work of this Danishwar, the “Chodainameh” (Book of Kings), deserves to be specially singled out. It was written, not in neo-Persian and Arabic script, but in what scholars call middle-Persian and in what is known as the Pahlavi writing. It was from this “Chodainameh” that Abu Mansur, lord of Tus, had a “Sháh Námeh” of his own prepared in the neo-Persian. And then, to complete the tale, in 980 a certain Zoroastrian whose name was Dakiki versified a thousand lines of this neo-Persian Book of Kings.
In this very city of Tus, Abul Kasim Mansur (or Ahmed) Firdusi was born, A.D. 935. One loves to think that perhaps he got his name from the Persian-Arabic word for garden; for, verily, it was he that gathered into one garden all the beautiful flowers which had blossomed in the fancy of his people. As he has draped the figures in his great epic, so has an admiring posterity draped his own person. His fortune has been interwoven with the fame of that Mahmud of Ghazna (998-1030), the first to bear the proud title of “Sultan,” the first to carry Mohammed and the prophets into India. The Round Table of Mahmud cannot be altogether a figment of the imagination. With such poets as Farruchi, Unsuri, Minutsheri, with such scientists as Biruni and Avicenna as intimates, what wonder that Firdusi was lured by the splendors of a court life! But before he left his native place he must have finished his epic, at least in its rough form; for we know that in 999 he dedicated it to Ahmad ibn Muhammad of Chalandsha. He had been working at it steadily since 971, but had not yet rounded it out according to the standard which he had set for himself. Occupying the position almost of a court poet, he continued to work for Mahmud, and this son of a Turkish slave became a patron of letters. On February 25, 1010, his work was finished. As poet laureate, he had inserted many a verse in praise of his master. Yet the story goes, that though this master had covenanted for a gold dirhem a line, he sent Firdusi sixty thousand silver ones, which the poet spurned and distributed as largesses and hied him from so ungenerous a master.
Via: Project gutenburg, THE SHÁH NÁMEH, THE RUBÁIYÁT THE DIVAN, AND THE GULISTAN