Can Central Asia’s Peace Persist?
The region’s first 25 years of independence were more peaceful than many expected. Peace for the next 25 is not guaranteed.
All things considered, the past quarter-century for Central Asia has proven relatively pacific. That’s not to say that the region didn’t know armed conflagration, or bloody revolts; Tajikistan’s civil war, Uzbekistan’s civilian massacres, and Kyrgyzstan’s pogroms and revolutions have wrought tens, and potentially hundreds, of thousands of deaths during post-Soviet independence.
On the whole, though – and especially in comparison to neighboring regions – Central Asia’s quarter-century of independence has proven more peaceful than many would have otherwise assumed. Given the distinct lack of pre-Soviet regional statehood, at least in its modern guise, and the fact that the region’s borders were largely delineated by Soviet authorities in Moscow, opportunities for post-Soviet warfare were many. It’s not as if there weren’t models elsewhere of inter-state interventions in post-Soviet nations – just look at Moldova, Georgia, and Ukraine.
But those fractures, implosions, and invasions never came. There was no Arab Spring redux in Central Asia. There was no irredentist Russia, gobbling up former territories. There was no expansionist China, preying on the weak states to its West. And there was, perhaps remarkably, no follow-through on threats of war in the Ferghana Valley. To be sure, the border regions remain heavily mined, and tensely patrolled. Central Asia doesn’t appear anywhere nearer to tossing off the title of “most trade-unfriendly region” in the world. But the tensions remained just that: tensions. While they escalate into occasional border skirmishes, there’s been nothing that would mobilize the full militaries of these new nations, tossing them headlong at one another.
And yet, that quarter-century is now closed. And the tensions remain, and show no signs of dissipating. If anything, tensions – both internal and external, from the border areas to across the broader region – will almost certainly increase as the second quarter-century of Central Asian independence begins. Past pacification is no guarantee that the status quo can remain. And in Central Asia, a compendium of factors point toward security threats only increasing. As this second quarter-century begins – as the economic underpinnings of the region disintegrate and as the surrounding powers begin eyeing imperialism to sate their domestic populations – there’s little confidence in the claims that these next few years will be as calm as the preceding decades. As Afghanistan roils once more, water resources dry up, members of the Islamic State continue their recruitment, and fighters return home, Central Asia’s security looks increasingly wobbly. That’s not to say that we’ll necessarily see a Crimea or Arab Spring in the region, or state implosions that challenge the horrors in Syria. But such outcomes are significantly closer than they’ve been over the past few years – and the region’s leaders show little sign of figuring out how to avoid the calamities lurking around the corner.
Take Russia, for example. While the nominal security guarantor in the region – Moscow enjoys a military treaty with Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and Tajikistan, with substantive military bases in the latter two – the Kremlin has appeared far more interested in the appearance of stability in the region, than in the reality. Propping up a near-client-state regime in Tajikistan, Russia has only contributed to Dushanbe’s increasingly brittle hold, both through its economic recession and support for President Emomali Rahmon’s one-man rule. Moreover, while the military allocations – predicted to swell to some 9,000 troops by 2020 – would seem sufficiently positioned should inter-state warfare break out, there’s little indication Moscow is prepared for, say, the return of Central Asian militants currently in northern Afghanistan (recently expelled by Pakistani sorties over northern Waziristan). And it’s worth noting that the expansion of Russia’s military presence, while nominally assuaging Moscow’s concerns about Central Asia’s external security concerns, likewise ties to interests in tapping Tajikistan’s drug trade, which continues to present a significant equivalent of Tajikistan’s GDP.
But perhaps largest security concern unspooling from Moscow stems from the nationalist bent the Kremlin has recently taken. Not only have nationalists and officials alike cited northern Kazakhstan as traditionally Russian territory – with Russian President Vladimir Putin lifting similar rhetoric used in Ukraine to discuss Kazakhstan’s future – but there are, indeed, increasing grievances among the ethnic Russian populations in the region. As economic maelstroms batter both nations, Astana has joined Moscow in tacking toward increasing nationalist rhetoric. To wit, recent restrictions implemented now block Russian television channels from cable networks in Kazakhstan. Given the history of secession and sedition in the region – and given the fact that Putin will require increasing fodder to satisfy his nationalist base, and that no NATO threat would stem from any subterfuge in Central Asia – Kazakhstan’s northern stretch presents a prime region for Moscow’s revanchism. As Putin told a German newspaper earlier this month, “For me, it is not borders and state territories that matter, but people’s fortunes.” Given the increasing pressures on the ethnic Russian populations in northern Kazakhstan, the region will present one of the foremost security concerns in Central Asia moving forward – all the more when Kazakhstan’s 75-year-old president, Nursultan Nazarbayev, finally moves into his post-presidency career.
Speaking of septuagenarian autocrats, Uzbekistan’s Islam Karimov has remained relatively reticent recently, refraining from engaging in the fiery rhetoric for which he’s known. It’s Karimov, after all, who brayed about potential war over water resources: Downstream Uzbekistan, he said, would not abide upstream Tajikistan’s and Kyrgyzstan’s plans to create new hydroelectric dams. While financial difficulties have stalled construction for the time being, the U.S., U.K., and World Bank continue backing CASA-1000, a proposed inter-regional electricity project that, according to Rahmon, necessitates the construction of his country’s Rogun Dam. That is to say, Washington and London are continuing to push a project that one regional autocrat says requires Rogun, despite a second autocrat’s threat of war should Rogun come to fruition. Not exactly a recipe for amity. All the while, border skirmishes continue to flare through the Uzbek-Kyrgyz-Tajik enclaves – some of which have been sparked by water demands.
And then there’s Afghanistan and the Middle East. Following the overthrow of Kunduz, Afghanistan’s security concerns raced to the fore once more. While the U.S. has slowed planned troop contractions, there’s little sense that Kabul stands any nearer to securing its northern stretches – near Turkmenistan and Tajikistan, especially. And while Tajikistan can, at least nominally, claim to rely on its military treaty with Moscow, Turkmenistan does not enjoy any such luxury. Skirmishes over the past two years have called into question Ashgabat’s opaque security realities – all the more, now that Turkmenistan’s internal economic fracture is proving far more dramatic than originally expected.
All the while, the Islamic State continues its agglomeration of disaffected Central Asians, many of whom were migrant workers in Russia. While no discernible assaults in the region have been linked to ISIS – despite governmental rhetoric otherwise – that is not to say that intra-state security forces will be able to thwart any forthcoming assaults. (As Kyrgyzstan’s president recently said, “No one is safe from harm.”) Given the dramatic economic collapse through the region – in remittances, in currency rates, in inter-state trade – any attraction to external organizations offering both compensation and potential recourse for increasingly frustrated citizens would only, presumably, increase.
Thankfully, though, Central Asia isn’t there yet. Instead, the governments can look back on a prior quarter-century and realize that the myriad dire predictions for the region didn’t pan out. Borders have remained largely settled. Full-scale war between states has thus far been avoided. Neo-imperialism has remained relegated to Russia’s western fronts, rather than Central Asia. And, Kyrgyzstan aside, all threats of revolution have fizzled.
But that was then. Moving forward, any absolute guarantee of stability disappears, and any likelihood that the next few years will match the preceding decades in terms of stability appear increasingly unlikely. Central Asia’s known a quarter-century of relative calm. The next quarter-century, however, may not prove quite as fortunate.