While Central Asia’s international political profile has risen considerably since 2001, it has primarily been seen in the West through the prism of Afghanistan. The policies of Western governments towards Central Asia as a whole and as individual states have widely fluctuated, but in almost every case, been heavily shaped by policies toward Afghanistan. US and ISAF Afghanistan policy has been short-sighted and messy enough, making policy toward Central Asia even moreso.

In recent years, Central Asia’s governments have backslid, becoming more authoritarian and less able to provide services to all of society. This contributes to greater risks for instability in the future.

How much responsibility do Western countries, particularly the United States, have for this situation?

According to Alexander Cooley, who writes, “…the West has left a trail of repression, graft and unfulfilled commitments to Central Asia’s fledgling civil society,” a lot.

Cooley makes two big claims about how the US and ISAF campaign in Afghanistan has affected Central Asia:

1. Security assistance has made Central Asian states more authoritarian and corrupt
2. The drawdown from Afghanistan will magnify these effects

I acknowledge the possibility that Cooley is referring to a very small, slightly more than trivial, increase when using the adjective “more” to describe the changes in authoritarianism and corruption in Central Asia caused by western security assistance. However, it seems unlikely that he means “slightly more than trivial” for a few reasons. First, why bother writing about it in anything other than a theoretical way if that is indeed the case? Second, he does not write about these changes in the way one might expect were he describing small changes; the language suggests a qualitative and quantitative levels of authoritarianism and corruption rather than describing, for example, how western assistance creates new opportunities for the pre-existing corruption. Third, the tone suggests he means something big.

Perhaps the strong evidence is in his forthcoming book, because the case made in the article linked above is extraordinarily thin.

Before even looking at the evidence, this case should be approached with extreme skepticism. As a thought experiment, imagine there had been no war in Afghanistan. Would we expect any of the Central Asian governments to be qualitatively different in any perceivable way? Would corruption or authoritarianism be significantly less pronounced? To say they would be dramatically understates the agency these governments have.

Similarly, even with the war in Afghanistan, if western security assistance is a noteworthy contributor to increased corruption and authoritarianism, we should expect the effects to be more pronounced where that assistance is and has been greatest. It is hard to measure these things objectively, but looking at Freedom House and Transparency International scores or purely qualitative assessments of corruption and freedom as levels of US security assistance over the last decade shows no clear patterns. Uzbekistan was a little better in the early part of the decade when US security assistance was greatest and did most of its slide during the period of poor relations with the US. Kyrgyzstan has slid on corruption rankings and fallen and bounced back on freedom rankings. There is a lot more economy in explaining these changes by referring to the features of the particular governments than there is by pointing to US security assistance as the cause.¹

So, Cooley has big evidentiary hurdles — ones he sets up himself by writing at the outset that, “Western security assistance has made the Central Asian states more authoritarian and more corrupt” — to clear to show a causal relationship between security assistance and increased corruption and authoritarianism. He simply does not clear them.

On promotion of political and civil rights, he writes,

The K2 eviction prompted Western officials to accept the Central Asian governments’ insistence that engagement on security issues was now antithetical with promoting political freedoms.

To support this claim, he points out that the US toned down criticism of President Bakiev in 2007 to prevent the eviction of Manas, that human rights organizations complain that the US will not raise rights issues with certain Central Asian governments because of security relationships, and that the EU addresses human rights issues in EU-Central Asia dialogues. This simply does not cut it. Yes, the US has toned down criticism at times, and some agencies are particularly prone to downplaying concerns over rights. However, it is incorrect to say that the US does not raise these issues, as some human rights organizations claim (though this argument is hard to refute without details). Whether or not this engagement makes any difference, especially in a systematic way, is an entirely different question, as is whether or not US officials are eager to bring these issues up. But the mountain of rights related reports and certifications required for security assistance required by Congress make it impossible not to bring these issues up. Is it really that hard to find people in government with knowledge of these negotiations or who can describe the far more complicated story on trying to promote rights and maintain security assistance agreements?

On corruption, Cooley describes the rent-seeking around the Northern Distribution Network and the massive corruption in fuel sales for the Transit Center at Manas. He is entirely right that western, mostly US, engagement on transit into Afghanistan has created opportunities for corruption for local elites. And he is right that the payments are likely to increase as equipment is moved out of Afghanistan on the NDN. Yes, this is “more” corruption quantitatively, but is it qualitatively? One’s mileage may vary, but any and all resources coming into the region from outside are likely to have a chunk taken out due to corruption.²

Cooley never directly supports his claim that western security assistance has made Central Asia more authoritarian. The closest he comes is when he writes,

…the Obama Administration in January of this year lifted a ban on providing military assistance and its financing to the Uzbek government, opening the way to transfers of material that is as likely to be used to target domestic opponents as it is for its publicly stated purpose of guarding these supply lines.

Cooley, like other analysts of US security assistance, would be better served by taking a look at what security assistance has been given and what is on offer. Vague reference to “material” muddies the water. Uzbekistan wants all kinds of military equipment, but what is actually being offered does not include weapons and ammunition. Specific items include night-vision goggles, thermal imaging sensors for border posts, and body armor, and it will probably also include things like computers, desks, certain kinds of vehicles, and similar equipment being moved back out of Afghanistan. It explicitly does not include expansion of training. I guess all of these things could be used against domestic opponents or the public, but is that really such a significant risk? These are not the tools of repression currently used, and to claim that this increases authoritarianism is making a mountain out of a molehill. Again, is it really that hard to find people, especially at State or on Congressional staffs, who have worked these issues and can provide another perspective to add something to the story?

I agree that US policy has been lacking in Central Asia over the last decade. There have been strategic missteps and missed opportunities. Western governments, particularly the US and German, have too often let themselves lose sight of the importance of human rights to the long-term security and stability of Central Asia in the pursuit of short-term goals in Afghanistan. Human rights organizations play an important role in reminding western governments that Central Asian governments are headed the wrong direction, and academics play an important role in providing inputs to orient policy in better directions. However, in either of these cases, that role is undermined by making thinly-supported arguments that overstate the effects of security assistance on Central Asian governments.

Earlier this week, Small Wars Journal published an article by Matthew Stein, a research analyst currently working at the Foreign Military Studies Office at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, discussing the role of videos recorded and posted by citizen bystanders in the information battle to control the narrative over the police’s violent crackdown on protesters in Zhanaozen last December. Stein’s article provides a fairly straightforward summary of the different videos showing the police firing on protesters and how the ways in which the government has built a narrative for the incident. On the significance of the appearance of these videos, Stein writes,

Finally, the significance of these videos is that the people of Zhanaozen were able to get information on the incident out into social media despite the government’s control over access. People using social media to publicize incidents that might not otherwise be noticed is not a new trend, as can be seen from worldwide events in 2011. However, this is the most noteworthy example from Kazakhstan, much less Central Asia, of this happening. Due to the effect that the first video (Zhana Ozen 3) had, it will not be the last time that people in Kazakhstan document an incident on video and make it available for a wide audience.

Dissemination of documentary evidence without state filtering is a fairly recent phenomenon in Central Asia, though some, including myself, would argue that Kazakhstan is late to this, at least in regard to high profile events, especially compared to Kyrgyzstan, where there are several earlier examples, including 2010′s overthrow of President Bakiev and especially the ethnic violence in Osh. More importantly though, the significance of information going unfiltered into social media and out to a wide audience is overstated. As internet use increases in Central Asia, it should come as no surprise that some of these people use the internet to distribute content like the Zhanaozen videos.

In his final paragraph, Stein points to the emergence of a struggle between state and society to control the narratives around controversial events. There is a story to be told about how these authoritarian states respond to erosion of their information dominance, but in many ways, it is singularly uninteresting. Almost every state tries to shape narratives, and in Central Asia, the state controls the story by keeping political groups, social and religious groups, and the media on a short leash. Central Asian governments have stepped up some restrictions and monitoring of social media. Security services are adept enough at disrupting off-line political activity planned online, and governments are finding ways to convince people to avoid the internet.

Like my colleagues here at Registan, I have found expectations of a Central Asian spring in the near term or the assumption that the Arab Spring would have a measurable impact on Central Asia to be based on fundamental misunderstandings of the region. Political culture matters. A lot. Government plays a critical role in nurturing fear, distrust, and political apathy, but their success is aided enormously by their political opponents and the societies they govern perpetuating this culture themselves. And research on Uzbekistan and Azerbaijan suggests that at least in the near term, the internet has exacerbated these problems.

Of course, all of these things — the relationships between state and society, the discussions within society, and political and cultural attitudes — are dynamic. Timelines extend well beyond the near term. The documentation and discussion in social media of events like Zhanaozen or ethnic violence in Kyrgyzstan is important because it preserves events. Stein is looking in the wrong place for meaning. The real significance of this documentation and presentation is in how and whether it changes society’s modes and norms for discussing sensitive political, social, and cultural topics and how those changes subsequently change political culture. The state’s reaction is just a continuation of a long-running dynamic.

I do not find the future as bleak as we sometimes make it sound when we focus on the near term. It is, of course, incorrect to characterize any popular uprising as entirely reliant on the internet. Twitter, facebook, etc. can only catalyze offline factors. Trends like the popular revival of Islam, failures of economies to meet rising expectations, the growth of ethno-linguistic nationalism, and demographic shifts all suggest heightened chances for political instability in the medium- to long-term. It is difficult to look at how the internet is being used in Central Asia at present and not see it playing an organizing and catalyzing role in the future should these trends keep drifting Central Asia toward instability. However, it is absolutely impossible at present to predict how or when the internet will play an appreciably important role. The only thing that is certain is that more clarity on these questions comes from focusing on discussions and practices within society than from monitoring the state-society dynamic.

Fareed Zakaria wants to blame (or whatever) Borat for a recent increase in tourist visa applications to Kazakhstan:

When the movie Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan premiered in 2006, Kazakhstan’s government banned the film and threatened to sue its star. Six years later, Kazakhstan’s foreign minister is thanking Borat, crediting the film with a large tourism boost. He called it a ‘great victory’ as the number of applications for tourist visas to Kazakhstan has grown tenfold.

Well, that’s all he posts. The story first showed up last week in the AP, Hollywood rags, and Eurasianet, where Foreign Minister Yerzhan Kazykhanov is quoted thanking Borat Sagdiev for increasing the number of visa applications.

Of course, there’s no real reason to think the increase has anything to do with Borat. In addition to the movie, the government of Kazakhstan has undertaken an aggressive marketing campaign in this country — buying multiple full-section advertisements in papers like the Washington Post, and even sponsoring the 2012 Congress Handbook (pictured to the right). Maybe, just maybe, Kazakhstan’s own zealous efforts to sell “The Kazakhstan Way” have had an effect as well.

As for Zakaria, he recommends future tourists should watch a video uploaded to YouTube by Prime Minister Karim Massimov called “The Stirrups of Time,” which is apparently not about natural childbirth but rather horses and whatever else happened in Mongol, or Nomad, or whatever. It is very cleverly narrated by Tony Blair, which means — thanks to his lucrative advising contract — that he’ll totally tell the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth about the country.

Zakaria ends his segment by rattling off some Wikipedia stats about press freedom, corruption, and democracy. Cute, right? He could not, it seems, bring himself to note the wholesale murder of 17 protesters in Zhanaozen in December, though one would think travelers to the country would kind of want to know about that.

But who really cares? Borat will forever be the perfect hook for talking about Kazakhstan, no matter the context. You don’t have to get all your facts lined up or even say anything interesting or real about the country — you just have to reference Borat and feel really clever for it.

Economic problems and energy shortages in Kyrgyzstan usually don’t pique the interest of the American press. As the saying goes, “if it bleeds, it leads”—and poor Kyrgyzstanis shivering in austere Soviet-era apartments after the heat is shut off don’t hold the audience’s interest for long.

But yesterday something “extraordinary” happened in Bishkek: Kyrgyzstan’s eternal flame, a gas-powered monument in honor of the Soviet soldiers who gave their lives fighting Nazi Germany, was snuffed out. The Kyrgyzgas utilities company, which powers the monument, pulled the plug, announcing that it was tired of waiting for the impoverished nation’s disorganized government to pay the $9,400 in debt it had accumulated over the past three years. But, a few hours later, the utilities company had a change of heart and relit the monument (probably because of the bad PR it was getting).

End of story, right?

Apparently not. The story was picked up by Time, Fox News, Business Week, Business Insider, and even Britain’s Daily Telegraph—news outlets that otherwise probably wouldn’t bat an eye at the “vowel-challenged republic” unless more interethnic conflict broke out or the population decided to have another Tulip Revolution. And the coverage was far from serious. Time’s subheadline read “When you said “eternal,” you didn’t really mean, like, forever, did you?” Fox News began its article by asking, “When is an “Eternal Flame” not eternal? In Kyrgyzstan, it’s when you don’t pay the gas bill.”

I can’t help feeling that there’s something very inappropriate about this coverage. Thanks to the Western media’s apathy towards Central Asia, very few Americans even know that Kyrgyzstan is a real country, let alone anything about it. If they ever heard its name, it was during the 2010 revolution and the interethnic unrest in Osh and Jalalabad that took the lives of 470 people. And then Kyrgyzstan disappeared back into the void of ex-Soviet backwater. As Sarah Kendzior noted in a 2010 Registan post, Central Asia is “the black hole of international media. It is not the “other” but the other’s “other” — Russia’s orient, a region whose history and political complexities are poorly understood even by some who proclaim to be experts.”

My problem with the media’s coverage of this issue is that it reinforces this lack of knowledge and understanding. It plays into a common, uninformed stereotype of the post-Soviet “-stans”—poor, backwards, and incomprehensible, with all the tropes of the post-Soviet region: monolithic cement apartment blocks, oversized grey monuments, soldiers marching in comically large hats (a common image used in many of these stories about the eternal flame). Of course, some of these stereotypes are based in truth, but Kyrgyzstan is much more than that. It is a country with many progressive youth, an active civil society, and the most democratic government in the region. But the media is helping to otherize it, to present it as an “absurdistan.” And that’s where the humor comes from. We’re laughing because a country is so poor that it couldn’t pay its miniscule gas bill. We’re laughing because it has a funny name and we’ve never heard of it. We’re laughing because, if Americans don’t take vacations there and things don’t blow up, why should we ever be interested?

But it’s funny! you may be thinking. And, as someone who has spent time in Kyrgyzstan, I’ll admit I had a chuckle when I first read the about the not-so-eternal flame on Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty (which consistently covers Kyrgyzstani political and economic developments). But there’s a difference between one guy in Boston laughing to himself and a news website broadcasting this occurrence to millions of people and intentionally framing it as humorous.

So to borrow an idea from the ever-controversial Bill Maher, I’d like to propose a “new rule” for the media: If it takes hundreds of deaths or a revolution to make you report on a country, don’t cover its “humorous” political and economic failures.

Underdeveloped countries—where the population suffers from poverty, corruption, political instability, and even violence—deserve our respect, even if their governments seem to be a part of the problem. Their people endure conditions most Americans and Westerners find unimaginable. They have learned to live with less. As any visitor to Kyrgyzstan will quickly discover, many of them are also willing to share what they have with others.

We all recognize that the media doesn’t simply report the news; it also shapes the way we see the world. So, if you aren’t seriously interested in the persistent problems that allowed Kyrgyzstan’s eternal flame to burn out, don’t mock the country when it does. At least let Kyrgyzstan have a respectable anonymity.

Photo by travlr

Jyldyz Joldosheva, a member of Kyrgyzstan’s parliament and of the nationalist Ata-Jurt party, continues to claim knowledge of well-financed plots by Uzbeks to attack Kyrgyzstan. Last April, Joldosheva claimed that wealthy Uzbek nationalists and separatists had financed the publication and distribution of book and video called Hour of the Jackal that accused the Kyrgyz of genocide. Though she claimed 400,000 copies of the book had been distributed for free in Russia, she claimed to have the only copy in Kyrgyzstan. She further said that the books had been published in Finland and might have been connected to Kimmo Kiljunen, the Finnish head of the international commission that investigated the Osh violence.¹

Joldosheva, again claiming to have unearthed a potential plot against Kyrgyzstan by virtue of her position as a parliamentarian, now says that a group called the Congress of Uzbeks or Congress of Uzbeks and Uzbekistan met in Moscow on March 23 and named Kadyrzhan Batyrov its honorary president and Salizhan Sharipov as its president.² She says that the organization raised 3.5 million rubles, for, well… something. All she knows, she said, is that Batyrov is a separatist and that Sharipov… well, she cannot say anything certain about him. But she did call on the government, Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and the National Security Committee to get on investigating this organization and what it is up to.

Batyrov, the exiled Uzbek businessman and community leader from Jalal-Abad who was convicted in absentia of planning clashes during the June 2010 ethnic violence, is the bogeyman at the center of many conspiracy theories concerning Uzbek separatism, and Joldosheva named him as responsible last year when she created a furor over Hour of the Jackal. Sharipov, originally from Uzgen, is Kyrgyzstan’s first cosmonaut, and has received state honors and titles from Russia, Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, and Tajikistan, according to his biography on Wikipedia.

Sharipov is livid over Joldosheva’s insinuation that he is somehow involved in a shadowy separatist plot as the leader of a group of which no one but her has ever heard. In his response to the accusations, he confirms that he purchased stock in a company from Batyrov. He says that this transaction took place prior to legal actions against Batyrov and his property. Back in February, the issue of Sharipov owning property formerly registered to Batyrov was raised in parliament, and President Atambaev suggested in a meeting in Osh that Sharipov, as a result of this transaction with Batyrov, might have been involved in the planning of the ethnic violence in June 2010.

There is not much to say about the substance of Joldosheva’s claims besides that there is little evidence to support them. There is as much to suggest the existence of this Congress of Uzbeks as there is for her claim of that hundreds of thousands of copies of books slandering the Kyrgyz people were printed in Finland and distributed around Russia. It does not matter that Sharipov is a Hero of Kyrgyzstan, honored on Kyrgyz postage, or anything else. This vignette illustrates the reasons to be pessimistic about Kyrgyzstan discussed earlier this week. Sharipov forgot that in the current climate, the acceptable way to accomplish a large property transfer is to not be Uzbek and have a group of jigits at your back. Nobody in Kyrgyzstan’s political establishment has any reason to try to change the situation. And that Atambaev is now playing the game of reckless, racist speculation, paving the way for more toxic actors like Joldosheva, it is hard to expect anything but increasing isolation, alienation, and abuse of Kyrgyzstan’s Uzbeks.

International Crisis Group released last week a report on the growing ethnic divide in southern Kyrgyzstan. If you happen to be, like I am, a pessimist about Kyrgyzstan, this report will probably reinforce your pessimism.

In more remote rural areas, the mood remains raw. Harking back to June 2010, some politicians refer to the brave young Jigits who came down from their mountain villages to save their native land in a time of need. Some young Osh residents speak of the “volunteers” who came in to save the city. Speaking of the young men who joined in the pogroms, a Kyrgyz observer noted that “these kids gained a lot of pride as a result of the events”, adding that “they have not had much to feel proud of for a long time”. Villagers refer to young men killed in the fighting as “shakhid” (martyrs). An independent researcher visiting a remote Kyrgyz village was told by teachers that southern Uzbeks should be sent to Uzbekistan, where, given their ethnic origins, they would be happier. The researcher was then urged not to raise the June events with village youth, as they were only too keen to return to Osh or Jalalabad and continue the fight against the Uzbeks.

The key southern Kyrgyz narratives all concur that Uzbeks of southern Kyrgyzstan have again become a dangerous “other”, a latent threat. Many voice the fear that the current situation is only a breathing space before more violence breaks out.

When the narrative dominant, even with many liberals, is that the Uzbeks brought this on themselves by trying to make a grab for power after Bakiev’s ouster in April 2010, the fear that this violence will happen again is probably well-founded.

Uzbeks, the report says, have retreated into their own communities after finding no help or refuge in Bishkek, Russia, or Uzbekistan. Increasingly, they write, Uzbeks are turning to conservative Islam, though claims that violent extremist groups like the IMU have seen significant increases in support are unfounded. There is anecdotal evidence, however, that Hizb ut-Tahrir has become more popular.

Though only briefly mentioned, the report too mentions the possibility of Uzbekistan’s intervention should a future conflict between Kyrgyz and Uzbeks break out in southern Kyrgyzstan. I agree that Karimov would resist intervention, but there is much more support for intervention on behalf of ethnic Uzbeks below the highest peaks of the Uzbek elite and among the public. New clashes in Kyrgyzstan would likely spark strong calls from the public and much of the elite to intervene. Karimov might be able to resist such calls, but his position would be weaker than it was in 2010 on the issue. All bets are off with a successor, and the conservative bet would be to count on Uzbekistan to intervene.

This is troubling and is only moreso because it is unlikely that Atambaev’s government will put much effort, let alone have any success, in easing tensions. Central Asia is sliding into a more dangerous, volatile period, and this issue will likely be one of the largest concerns for years to come.

Toronto-based Centerra Gold has slashed its forecast for output from its Kumtor mine in Kyrgyzstan’s Issyk-Kul Province from about 600,000 ounces to about 400,000 ounces. The company said that the drop is caused by increased ice movement blocking access to high grade ore, exacerbated by a 10 day strike last month over payroll deductions for Kyrgyzstan’s social fund. The collective bargaining agreement with the workers expires this year, and the company warns that additional labor stoppages will further decrease production.

While few may shed a tear for the troubles of a large mining company, the shortfall has major implications for Kyrgyzstan’s budget. Kumtor accounts for 90% of Kyrgyzstan’s gold output, 12% of GDP, and over half of exports. The state owns a large stake in the mine and receives significant revenues from the mine.

“This will mean a major decline in industrial production, GDP and tax revenues,” said Orozbek Duisheyev, president of the Kyrgyz Association of Miners and Geologists. “We’re talking enormous losses, in the region of $200 million to $250 million.”

Centerra and other foreign mining companies face significant political and social risks in Kyrgyzstan, especially following Kurmanbek Bakiev’s overthrow in April 2010. Last spring, the facilities of a South African mining company operating in Talas were attacked by young men on horseback. Officials in Bishkek, meanwhile, seemed to be trying to stoke public anger toward Kumtor in order to shake down Centerra last year, a worrisome set of moves in light of several high-profile nationalizations following Bakiev’s ouster.

Mining companies and other large investors in Kyrgyzstan must navigate thickets of local and national politics. Apparent expressions of public anger may instead be shakedowns by local elites and criminals or connected to political competition, all of which seemed to be the case in Talas, or efforts by national elites to seize control of assets at the behest of the public. The government is potentially adding additional complexity for investors, particularly in the mining sector, by proposing (ru) projects be approved based on the determination of a public commission partially consisting of local residents and the quality of a social investment package the investor plans to provide.

Responding to these hurdles and guarding against these risks is costly and difficult. It may seem glib to say that Kyrgyzstan is unique, but the socio-political environment does pose unique challenges. Linkages between elites, criminals, and public constituencies are common but obscured. Public opinion, even in very small areas, is nowhere near as monolithic as some protests may make it seem, and ongoing disputes about development of mineral deposits (ru) show there clearly is division within communities about how and whether to proceed with projects.

Kyrgyzstan’s government could smooth the path for investors by sheltering them from local politics by mediating relationships, but it seems uninterested in doing so. In fact, it’s responses to the troubles of the mining sector seemingly amount to telling investors to play politics themselves. Difficult and costly though it may be, investors need partners to help them find and invest in their own local constituencies who may be willing to go to bat for them if they want returns on their investments in Kyrgyzstan.

Photo: Kumtor Gold Mine by Mike Karavanov.

ITAR-TASS has some unkind things to say about new Kyrgyz president Almazbek Atambaev:

Russian-Kyrgyz relations have deteriorated sharply. Russia is dissatisfied with Kyrgyz plans to shut down a russian military base, and Bishkek demands to replace the General Secretary of the Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO). The new apple of discord became the Dastan torpedo producing plant, which Moscow is seeking to control.

Last year, when Atambaev threatened to shut down the U.S. base in Kyrgyzstan, analysts seemed to react in one of two ways: Atambaev was steering Kyrgyzstan toward a new, pro-Russia stance (focusing as well on his endorsement of the Eurasian Union), or he was just sort of angling for more money to coast out the last six months of 2014 until the whole question becomes moot anyway (I still lean toward the latter interpretation).

However, the latest round of tensions between Bishkek and Moscow might suggest something more: Atambaev doesn’t want any foreign domination or bases on Kyrgyz territory, including from Russia. Seeing this paired with Atambaev essentially rejecting the Russian bid to take a major share of Dastan is interesting in that sense. In 2009, Russia offered Kyrgyzstan a $300 million aid package and $2 billion in other spending, which was widely presumed to have inspired then-president Kurmanbek Bakiev to demand the U.S. leave the Manas Transit Center (he eventually agreed to a massive increase in lease payments in exchange for continued U.S. presence). But Russia also offered, as a part of that deal, to buy a 48% share in the Dastan munitions plant as part of a $198 million debt forgiveness package. It was meant to be a double-whammy: erase debt, get a hundred and fifty million dollars on top of that, all in exchange for a torpedo factory.

Atambaev doesn’t seem to consider that such a good deal. And if he’s both rejecting the Dastan deal and telling the Russians to get out of their base at Kant, and suggesting the CSTO get a new General Secretary… well things in Kyrgyzstan are getting a lot more interesting.

In a way, though, it’s not really a surprise that Atambaev is not terribly interested in being Russia’s patsy in Central Asia. No leader there really wants to be, even if Kazakhstan seems much more like Russia in many ways than it does the rest of Turkestan. One of the few constants in Central Asian politics, I think, and especially in their foreign policy, is the quest to successfully triangulate between the many foreign powers seeking to gobble up resources and access. While Russia enjoys warmer relations with most of their governments than does the U.S. China, they aren’t that much warmer, and all told the memory of being part of the USSR lingers just enough to keep any leader from selling the farm, so to speak, to Moscow.

So where does Kyrgyzstan go from here? That’s a big question. Atambaev isn’t showing his cards just yet, but we can make some speculation based on his public statements. He has requested, repeatedly, that the U.S. military leave Manas when the lease expires in June of 2014. U.S. Secretary of Defense Leon Panetta was in Kyrgyzstan just the other week trying to lay the foundation for a longer U.S. military presence there. From what we know in public, it hasn’t worked yet.

At the same time, Atambaev has also rejected Russian bids to maintain a permanent military base there, and is not enthusiastic about allowing Russia controlling ownership in that Dastan torpedo plant either. That, might mean that he’s not swining back and forth like a pendulum (US–Russia–US–Russia) but actually trying to carve out a separate, independent space from which to negotiate his external relations.

Of course, everyone wants to do that in the region. And Kyrgyzstan has famously failed to execute the so-called “multivector foreign policy” under Bakiev. So there’s no guarantee that this will stick. In all likelihood, one power or another is going to offer some outrageous amount of money and throw the system into imbalance again… which is probably what Atambaev wants anyway: more currency, more wrangling over Kyrgyzstan’s hand, more competition for influence.

At the end of the day, Kyrgyzstan can only benefit from playing hard-to-get. So long as Afghanistan remains unsettled, Kyrgyzstan (and especially access to basing in Kyrgyzstan) will be coveted by both the U.S. and Russia, and they will pay dearly for it. Figuring out how to maneuver and gain advantage in such a space is not an easy trick for U.S. or Russian policymakers, and as long as they don’t quite have congruous goals in the region it’s not likely they’ll team up to force concessions out of the Kyrgyz government.

So in a few months, let’s check back and see how all the various deals and arrangements have changed. They’ll mostly be much the same as they are now.

The U.S. Air Force has completed a lengthy investigation into the brief disappearance of Jill Metzger (remember her?) and concluded that she was abducted.

After talking to hundreds of people, canvassing areas of Kyrgyzstan and conducting a forensic analysis of the evidence, investigators determined that all of the evidence supported Metzger’s account of what had happened, Bunko said in an email.

“By analysis of all of the available information, the OSI eliminated multiple alternate scenarios and concluded the information uncovered is consistent with Maj. Metzger’s account of the events,” Bunko said.

Metzger went missing on Sept. 5, 2006, after visiting a department store in the Kyrgyz capital Bishkek.

“A detailed review of surveillance tapes of the shopping center from which Maj. Metzger was abducted depicts an apparent organized surveillance effort against her on 5 September by at least two unidentified persons,” Bunko said. “As Maj. Metzger departed the mall, one of the individuals conducting the surveillance closely followed her.”

Back in 2006, Metzger’s story seemed impossible to verify. There was also a major online campaign to paint her as lying about the incident, including some accusations of a terminated pregnancy and an Air Force cover up.

But the Air Force has concluded that she was indeed abducted by criminals who mistook her for a victim of similar appearance. There’s no word on whether the Air Force confirmed her captors were European, as Metzger claimed at the time, though that can probably be assumed given their endorsement of her version of events.

Metzger reportedly stabbed one of her captors with a stick she had sharpened into a shiv and then locked him in a room, escaping into the city where she got a local couple to bring her to the police. As of October, 2010, Metzger was back on active duty.

Results from last week’s municipal elections in Osh have not yet been certified. The Central Elections Committee has said it is still investigating reports of violations and that results in some precincts may yet be invalidated. Regardless, it says that possible invalidation of results will not change the outcome of vote that saw Uluttar Birimdigi, a party supporting current mayor Melisbek Myrzakmatov and formed out of a union between Ata Jurt and Butun Kyrgyzstan, two parties primarily supported in Kyrgyzstan’s southern provinces. The CEC has said that Uluttar Birimdigi will receive 22 of the 45 seats on Osh’s city council with one yet to be distributed pending final results of the vote counting. This means that Myrzakmatov is all but certain to continue as Osh’s mayor.

At the macro-level, Kyrgyzstan is often characterized as politically divided between north and south. As close watchers of the country know, however, this over-generalizes the social and economic divisions that manifest in Kyrgyzstan’s politics. Nevertheless, there is evidence that it is an accurate characterization of national politics. After last year’s presidential election, Fredrik Sjoberg mapped Almazbek Atambaev’s performance at the rayon level, showing an abundantly clear difference in his performance in northern and southern regions.

The same approach can be used at lower levels, highlighting the geography of political divisions within cities and rayons and providing a richer picture of political competition in Kyrgyzstan. The map below shows the city of Osh and surrounding villages in Kara-Suu rayon.¹ Red areas are villages and electoral precincts within the city of Osh and villages that fall under the jurisdiction of city, which, like Bishkek, is essentially a province-level entity.² The orange areas are villages in Kara-Suu rayon.

Osh city electoral precincts (red) and provincial Osh villages surrounding the city (orange). Map imagery (c) Google Imagery and TerraMetrics 2012.

The distinction between provincial Osh and the city of Osh is important, as the inclusion of rural villages southwest of the city and exclusion of other nearby villages generally puts Kyrgyz who live in villages near the city in the Osh city electorate and generally puts Uzbeks outside of it. The map below shows the ethnic composition of the city and surrounding villages.³

Ethnic composition of Osh and surrounding Kara-Suu Rayon. Darker reds indicate higher proportions of ethnic Kyrgyz while blues indicate ethnic minorities, almost exclusively Uzbeks. Territories under the jurisdiction of Osh city are bordered in yellow. Map imagery (c) Google Imagery and TerraMetrics 2012.

During the 2010 parliamentary and 2011 presidential elections, there was a close relationship between ethnicity, specifically Uzbeks, and results of voting in and around Osh.⁴ In 2010, the performance of Ar Namys looks very similar to a map of ethnic distribution.

Performance of Ar Namys in 2010 Parliamentary Voting in Osh. Reds represent lower performance while blues indicate higher performance. Map imagery (c) 2012 Google Imagery and TerraMetrics.

In 2011, Atambaev received some of his highest concentrations of votes in Uzbek villages and the heavily Uzbek Amir Timur and Turan sections of Osh.

Performance of Almazbek Atambaev during the 2011 Presidential voting in Osh. High performance is in blue and low performance is in red. Map imagery (c) 2012 Google Imagery and TerraMetrics

These last two maps show that, at least over the course of a couple years, the electoral geography of Osh and its vicinity is fairly stable. Uzbek neighborhoods in Osh — Turan, Amir Timur, and the areas surrounding Suleyman-Too — and Uzbek villages surrounding Osh tended to vote together in 2010 and 2011, first for Ar Namys, then for Almazbek Atambaev. In fact, these relationships are strong enough that the results of voting in Osh city precincts in Alymbek Datka and Manas Ata, the two districts extending to the north east along the M41, may be an indirect indication either of changes in ethnic composition of these neighborhoods since data was last collected or of the unreliability of the data.

Meanwhile, the neighborhoods of Ak-Tilek and Kerme-Too as well as the villages under municipal jurisdiction to the southwest of the city were consistently the least likely to support what might be called “northern” politicians. SDPK, Ata Meken, and Ar Namys all performed poorly in these areas in 2010, as did Atambaev in 2011. Ata Jurt and Kamchibek Tashiev performed fairly well in these areas in 2010 and 2011 respectively, but Adakhan Madumarov and his Butun Kyrgyzstan party were the strongest performers in those elections.

In 2012′s Osh city council election, there is a now familiar geography to the outcome of the vote. Areas where Ar Namys did well in 2010 and Atambaev did well in 2011 are the same areas where Uluttar Birimdigi, the political union of Tashiev’s Ata Jurt, Madumarov’s Butun Kyrgyzstan, and Osh Mayor Melisbek Myrzakmatov, performed most poorly.

Performace of Uluttar Birimdigi in the 2012 Osh Kenesh election. Red indicates higher performance. Map imagery (c) 2012 Google Imagery and TerraMetrics.

Similarly, those areas that had rejected “northern” politicians in the previous two elections, did so again in 2012, especially in the southwestern villages.

Combined performance of parties that are in government in Kyrgyzstan's parliament -- SDPK, Ata Meken, and Respublika -- in the 2012 Osh Kenesh election. Blue indicates higher performance. Map imagery (c) 2012 Google Imagery and TerraMetrics.

It’s worth nothing the ambiguous identity of Respublika, at least in the vicinity of Osh. While it never really dominates in any precinct or village in any election, there isn’t a very clear pattern to the geography of its support the way there is with support for more stereotypically northern or southern parties. It was competitive with Butun Kyrgyzstan and Ata Jurt in 2010 and with both Uluttar Birimdigi and SDPK in 2012. While not an overwhelmingly popular party, it appears to have a strong base of support in Osh that cuts across both the ethnic and urban-rural divide. Looking at its results in 2012 show that its inclusion in the above map as a member of government makes some areas appear to have softened in their opposition to “northern” parties.

Performance of the Respublika party in the 2012 Osh Kenesh elections. Blue indicates higher performance. Map imagery (c) 2012 Google Imagery and TerraMetrics.

While these results may not be entirely unexpected, mapping them clarifies the political and ethnic dynamics of Osh and its vicinity. It demonstrates that at least since the ethnic violence of 2010, there is a stable and distinct geography to the distribution of political constituencies in Osh and that ethnic minorities, and perhaps rural Kyrgyz as well, are fairly cohesive political units.

However, it highlights the importance of what is and is not Osh and who controls its destiny. The city, Kyrgyzstan’s “southern capital,” is incredibly important. Until the closure of Uzbekistan’s borders greatly curtailed trade, it was the economic heart of Southern Kyrgyzstan and an important source of consumer goods for Uzbekistan’s Ferghana Valley. It was an important staging point for the protests that eventually overthrew Askar Akaev, and bringing the city under control was one of the post-Bakiev transitional government’s major and ever-present headaches. Melisbek Myrzakmatov, who will continue on as mayor as a result of the March 4 election, is widely rumored to have played a role in planning and executing violence against Uzbeks in June 2010 and of profiting from the reconstruction of the city. He is, unfortunately, also fairly adept at playing political games. He has consistently been able to find and exert the limits of independence Bishkek will tolerate of him.

And so, the victory of Myrzakmatov’s party is extremely important to Kyrgyzstan’s immediate political future. While most of Kyrgyzstan’s political establishment seems to be buying into the idea of competing for resources through the parliament made more powerful by the 2010 constitution (even Tashiev has one foot in on playing by the new rules), Myrzakmatov’s victory is a potential blow to the parliamentary experiment. Both Madumarov and Myrzakmatov have every incentive to play politics by the old rules and invest in public constituencies to mobilize against the government and their rivals, and Tashiev, as their friend in parliament, can play things both ways. Whether they intended it or not, their electoral coalition bought them political space and have kept one corner of the post-Bakiev political order still unconsolidated.

They benefit, however, from the boundaries that define Osh’s electorate. Were the Uzbek villages on the immediate outskirts of Osh under municipal jurisdiction, the outcome would likely have been quite different, with an SDPK-Ata Meken-Respublika coalition government all but assured. It will be interesting to see how, if at all, these parties respond to this election. By banding together, they would likely be a far more potent political force, at least in Osh, though it is unknown whether or not past Respublika supporters would carry over to such a coalition. Or, if Osh is the prize most worth winning in the south, these parties, which are also in control of the national parliament, could always adopt a trick developed to its perhaps highest form in U.S. state legislatures, and just redraw Osh’s electoral boundaries.

Update

Protesters in Osh are disputing the outcome of the vote saying that Uluttar Birimdigi won 23 of 45 seats on the city council. The Central Election Committee says that they are sorely mistaken and that the party only won 21 seats. Additionally, the CEC says that it invalidated the results of three precincts, and protesters are demanding voting be conducted again in these areas. Uluttar Birimdigi won more than 50% of the vote in two of these precincts and took about 40% in the third, so voting again likely would help the party reach the goal of a majority on the council.

In the comments, there is some discussion about being able to follow the maps. Hopefully the animated map below is a bit easier to follow. Click to view the animation.

Voting for Ar-Namys in 2010, Atambaev in 2011, and Uluttar Birimdigi in 2012 showing geographic stability in the electorate. Areas in which over 50% of the population is Uzbek are highlighted. Click to view animation.

Additionally, there is discussion about turnout levels. This map shows the changes 2010-2012.

Turnout in the 2010, 2011, and 2012 elections. Higher turnout is blue. Lower turnout is red. Click to view animation.

Image at top shows performance of Almazbek Atambaev during the 2011 presidential election in Osh city and Kara Suu rayon. Blue indicates higher performance. Map imagery (c) 2012 Google.