The Kyrgyz Pendulum

On July 21, Temir Sariyev, the Kyrgyz prime minister, signed a decree denouncing a cooperation treaty with the United States almost as old as independent Kyrgyzstan itself. The scrapping of the 1993 treaty (set to take effect August 20, 2015, as of this writing) is a relatively small thing – it defines the tax breaks enjoyed by U.S. aid programs and non-Kyrgyz working with them in-country – but it is a strong indicator of the mood in Bishkek. Central Asia’s only democracy – albeit a troubled one – was once the darling of the West. But the pendulum has been swinging.

In the past few years the swing has been toward Russia. While conspiracy-theorists whisper in Bishkek about Washington’s supposedly nefarious intentions, Moscow has been busily coaxing the Kyrgyz back into its fold. The latest diplomatic kerfuffle between the U.S. and Kyrgyzstan – sparked by the State Department granting Azimjan Askarov, an activist serving a life sentence in a Kyrgyz prison, a human rights defender award – is illustrative of the existing fissures between the West and Central Asia’s self-named “Switzerland.”

Alexander Cooley notes in his 2012 book, Great Games, Local Rules: The New Great Power Contest in Central Asia, that Bishkek has never been a passive bystander, simply watching Russia, the United States, and China vie for influence in a new Great Game. Instead, he argues that “Central Asian states, even the weaker ones, are not passive pawns in the strategic maneuverings of the great powers, but important actors in their own right.” Bishkek has always been conscious of its options, and its decisions certainly reflect the interests of the ruling elites. While Moscow and Washington provide powerful incentives, Bishkek is largely responsible for its own fate – a fact elites are quick to declare before immediately accusing outsiders of meddling.

The classic example is former President Kurmanbek Bakiyev’s 2009 double-cross of Moscow. In February 2009, Bakiyev accepted a massive aid package from Russia – worth an estimated $2.15 billion, including $150 million in direct aid with no repayment necessary and a heavily concessional $300 million loan. The Kyrgyz parliament also voted to close the U.S. airbase at Manas, at that point a key part of supporting the war in Afghanistan and a major irritant to Russia.

A few months later – with the first disbursement of Russian aid in the bank – Bakiyev backtracked and renegotiated the U.S. lease on Manas. Though diplomatic cables that began leaking in late 2010 indicate that Bakiyev’s reneging on Moscow was more akin to selling out to the highest bidder and less orchestrated malice on the part of Bishkek, it nonetheless demonstrates that Kyrgyzstan is not wedded to any of its partners beyond the demands of the moment. Bakiyev was building an election slush fund – and he won the fall 2009 election by 76 percent. But his machinations ultimately backfired. In 2010, Bakiyev was deposed by a popular revolution of the same flavor that had brought him into power.

Toward Moscow

His successor, Almazbek Atambayev, has led the swing toward Moscow. In summer 2013, the Kyrgyz parliament voted to close Manas, giving a deadline of June 11, 2014. Though perhaps earlier than the U.S. may have wished, the December 2014 deadline for the end of the coalition combat mission in Afghanistan made a summer 2014 closure less burdensome than a 2009 closure would have been.

Then Atambayev steered Kyrgyzstan into the Russian-led Eurasian Economic Union (EEU). Though the country appeared to drag its heels – delaying joining the union until May 2015 – Russia’s gravity was inescapable in this regard. Kyrgyzstan has an estimated million migrant workers in Russia and about 30 percent of its GDP comes from remittances. New laws were set to disadvantage workers from outside the union: higher fees, language and history tests, and taxes.

Kyrgyzstan also began emulating Russian legislative maneuvers aimed at tamping down on Western influences – the much-discussed “anti-gay propaganda” and “foreign agent” draft laws are modeled on Russian laws. Both measures seek to strike at areas of perceived Western influence, namely nongovernmental organizations and human rights activists. NGOs in particular are seen in Central Asia with a suspicious eye: Cooley wrote that in the wake of Ukraine’s 2004-2005 Orange Revolution “Western NGOs were perceived to have played a critical role in training and mobilizing political opposition,” and so “Moscow acted decisively to curtail their activities domestically and to publically denounce them as political agents.” Central Asia, now as in 2005, has followed Russia’s lead. “Even in Kyrgyzstan,” Cooley wrote three years ago, “with one of the most vibrant of Central Asia’s civil societies, state investigations into NGOs increased.”

The clear division between Central Asia and the United States on human rights prompted the latest dip in relations between Bishkek and Washington. Put simply, the Kyrgyz say Askarov is a dangerous criminal and the U.S. and assorted rights groups say he is a victim of an oppressive state bent on pretending the ethnic violence that happened in 2010 was not the result of virulent nationalism and state-scapegoating.

During his June visit, UN General Secretary Ban Ki-moon encouraged Kyrgyzstan to actually put plans to promote interethnic harmony into practice. “Root causes,” Ban stressed, “must be addressed fully and impartially investigated and prosecuted.” As far as the Kyrgyz state is concerned, however, the masterminds of the violence – mostly Uzbeks like Askarov – have been dealt with.

On the same day Sariyev signed the decree scrapping the 1993 treaty, Atambayev commented that “there are forces that want to destabilize the situation in Kyrgyzstan, disrupt order in the republic.” The president’s words, when viewed beside comments made by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in relation to the Askarov award help draw a conspiratorial eye to the timing, unambiguously implicating the United States:

Even more surprising is that such an award was never given to any human rights activist of the Kyrgyz Republic during the rule of former presidents A.Akaev and K.Bakiyev. In such context, this award will be associated with the withdrawal of the Transit Center from the International airport “Manas” in Bishkek and the appointment of Richard Miles as interim head of the American mission.

This language, both from the president and the ministry’s statements, feeds into the popular conspiracy theory that the United States is bent on orchestrating a “color revolution” in Kyrgyzstan. Richard Miles was ambassador to Georgia in 2003 when that country experienced its Rose Revolution and had served in Belgrade when Yugoslavia began breaking apart. In early 2015 he was appointed chargé d'affaires in Bishkek, as the titular head of the U.S. embassy while the nominated ambassador, Sheila Gwaltney, awaits confirmation by the U.S Senate (where it is being held up by Senate Republicans). Rumors mills in Bishkek went wild at the Miles appointment.

Western analysts, predictably, point at Moscow’s own machinations, but the government in Bishkek is hardly a sympathetic ear. With the end of the U.S. combat mission in Afghanistan, the overarching motivation for dealing with Bishkek no matter the cost has faded. Meanwhile, Russia’s influence in the region – which arguably never really diminished – remains intact. Russia retains cultural and media influence, but most importantly is an important business partner to a great number of Kyrgyz elites. In Great Games, Cooley argues that the security goals and strategic purposes of the great powers in Central Asia have differed markedly, allowing them to pursue their interests in the region simultaneously without too much friction. As the United States’ interest in the region shifts away from Afghanistan, Bishkek and Moscow rightfully conclude that the Americans are less likely to pay to play in the region.