Learning From Kyrgyzstan's Local Elections

On April 11, voters in Kyrgyzstan went to the polls for the third time in six months. This time they cast votes in local elections and on a constitutional referendum, which legal experts and civil society groups have sharply criticized for slashing checks and balances on presidential power.

Only about one in three eligible voters participated in the polls. The referendum passed with about 80 percent of votes in favor, though less than 40 percent of Kyrgyzstan’s 3.6 million voters took part. The abysmally low turnout – still legally binding, per a 30 percent turnout minimum passed in a 2016 referendum – could be the result of election fatigue, disillusionment with politics in a country where the promises of consecutive revolutions have gone unfulfilled, or the inconvenience for internal migrants to return home to vote. Although Kyrgyzstanis seem to be opting out of formal mechanisms for political participation, the three decade-long game of political musical chairs continues.

The country’s party landscape has been in shambles since discontent with the results of parliamentary elections held last October spiraled into a revolution that resembled kicking down a rotting door more than a coherent national uprising. April’s local elections served as a test of viability on the national stage and the results offer some insight as to what the next few months have in store.

Local Elections and Party Consolidation

In Kyrgyzstan, where parties function more as vessels for the careers of individual politicians than coherent ideological platforms, the success of parties tends to be driven by wide recognition of the personalities at the top of the candidate list.

Take, for example, popular support for the Mekenchil party, which President Sadyr Japarov founded in 2012 with Kamchybek Tashiyev. In August 2020, 3 percent of respondents in an International Republican Institute (IRI) survey named Mekenchil as a party they were familiar with. By the time parliamentary elections rolled around in October, Mekenchil just barely failed to clear the 7 percent threshold needed to secure seats. Seemingly out of nowhere, Japarov – who up until the protests following the October election was in prison for a kidnapping charge – managed to secure interim spots as both prime minister and acting president. By February 2021, Mekenchil was not only the most widely recognized party in Kyrgyzstan, named by 42 percent of IRI survey respondents, but also the most popular choice for parliament, chosen by 10 percent of respondents.

Local elections are one mechanism for party consolidation and serve as a signal of party strength both to voters and other political elites. This year, over 8,300 local legislative positions were up for election in 28 cities and 420 villages across Kyrgyzstan. 2016 was the last time local elections were this massive, and this year there were even more races because a handful of municipalities were upgraded to official “city” status and because a slate of races were delayed from last April due to COVID-19.

There are a few ways to slice the results and get a picture of how party leaders are trying to position themselves for possible parliamentary elections later this year. The first and easiest measure is to look at the number of seats secured across the country. Ten parties won more than 30 seats countrywide, out of 796 total mandates.

Ata-Jurt Kyrgyzstan (Kyrgyz for “Fatherland,” not to be confused with Ata-Jurt, a nationalist party led by Kamchybek Tashiyev that has been part of several governing coalitions since 2010) led in this measure. Even though these were the first elections Ata-Jurt Kyrgyzstan participated in, the party took 141 seats, amounting to 17 percent of all city council positions countrywide.

The party’s origins are fuzzy. As local outlet Kloop reported, it was re-registered just last year using the certificate for the “Unity of the People Kyrgyzstan” party, headed by parliamentarian Zamirbek Esenamanov. But there are clear ties between Ata-Jurt Kyrgyzstan and Japarov and Tashiyev’s Mekenchil party. Aybek Matkerimov, who ran for parliament in 2020 with Mekenchil, is currently Ata-Jurt Kyrgyzstan’s leader. Matkerimov serves on a village council in Tashiyev’s hometown in Jalalabad province, and Tashiyev’s son ran for city council in Jalalabad City. Given Ata-Jurt Kyrgyzstan’s ties in Jalalabad, it makes sense that more than half its seats on city councils come from the southern province.

To get more nuance on Ata-Jurt Kyrgyzstan’s supposed landslide, we need to consider subnational campaign dynamics. Fifty-six total parties took part in the elections across 28 cities, and parties with bigger ambitions (not to mention larger resource pools) registered in races across the country. Ata-Jurt Kyrgyzstan dominated, running in 21 cities. It’s a numbers game: Parties that registered in races across the country would win more seats than regional parties, such as Issyk-Kul’s Tabylga party. The vast majority of parties ran in fewer than five municipalities, with 23 parties participating in just one election each.

By looking at the number of cities where parties won seats against the overall number of cities where they campaigned, we get more insight on the party consolidation mechanism. Of the parties running larger nationwide campaigns, Ata-Jurt Kyrgyzstan won 15 of the 21 races it participated in, a 71 percent success rate; it has seats in both Bishkek and Osh, Kyrgyzstan’s biggest cities. Onuguu Progress won 82 percent of the elections it took part in, securing seats in 14 city councils; its representation is the most evenly spread across the country of any party, but it did not run any candidates in Bishkek.

Some of the parties that were more conservative in how many races they participated in ended up with more consistent success; the National Democratic Party of Kyrgyzstan and Patriot Yntymagy both won in all four races they participated in.

Other parties severely overshot their efforts. The biggest surprise came from the Social Democrats, which ran in 13 council races but only won a total of 12 seats across four councils. The Social Democrats are an offshoot of the Social Democratic Party of Kyrgyzstan (SDPK), one of the country’s oldest and most prominent parties. A feud between former presidents Almazbek Atambayev and Sooronbay Jeenbekov – which ended with Atambayev in prison after a failed insurrection in August 2019 – cemented the party’s internal collapse. Atambayev’s sons carved out their own political space with the Social Democrats, a party that is now headed by 22-year old Temirlan Sultanbekov.

Butun Kyrgyzstan also had a rough ride, winning only three of the 10 races where it ran candidates. The party was one of the four that managed to secure seats in the October 2020 elections (since annulled) but was unable to translate that success in local races. Adakhan Madumarov, Butun Kyrgyzstan’s leader since 2010, supports a presidential form of government but is one of the few politicians who has openly criticized Japarov.

Zooming in on Bishkek

By far, Bishkek saw the most competitive races in the country, with 1,820 candidates vying for just 45 seats. Six parties managed to pass the 7 percent threshold to secure seats: Emgek, Ak Bata, the National Democratic Party of Kyrgyzstan (NDPK), Ata-Jurt Kyrgyzstan, Yntymak, and Nash Narod.

However, on April 19, Bishkek’s Local Election Commission announced that NDPK was disqualified for buying votes. The decision to remove NDPK followed a series of protests organized by parties that did not clear the 7 percent threshold – including a three-day hunger strike by Communist Party member Amantur Manapbayev – and concrete evidence of vote-buying.

With NDPK removed and the votes re-tallied, five parties will serve on Bishkek’s city council – the liberal Reforma party still failed to secure seats, earning 6.95 percent of votes after the recalculation of the totals.

Although this slate of parties contains no overlap from the last city council, there stands to be significant carry-over among individual representatives. Of the 45 council members, 12 are staying on from the last session with new party affiliations. Politicians from Onuguu Progress, Respublika Ata-Jurt, SDPK, and Mekenim Kyrgyzstan jumped to other parties, with Emgek and Yntymak absorbing the largest number of former deputies. Other new city council members have extensive experience in politics, including a former mayor, several former parliamentarians, and a handful of politicians who ran for parliament in 2020.

From a policy perspective, it is not clear what this particular slate of parties can offer Bishkek. Politicians made grand promises, such as Ata-Jurt Kyrgyzstan’s top candidate Babur Tolbaev’s pledge to bring the Olympics to Bishkek in 2040 or Ak-Bata’s dedication to providing pensioners with free bread, but such commitments fall short of comprehensive platforms.

One thing that seems certain is a rush of development projects in Bishkek. Given that Bishkek’s city council gets to decide how municipal land is used, it is hardly a coincidence that several of the new deputies own or are affiliated with building companies. There is a long history of city authorities misusing their position for personal gain, with several new members of city council at the center of past construction scandals. Most notably, Ak-Bata party leader Nariman Tyuleev was involved in illegal land giveaways while he was mayor of Bishkek from 2008 until 2010. Journalists found that Tyuleev transferred plots of land to Ernest Japarov (no relation to President Japarov), another Ak-Bata member who will serve on city council.

The Emgek party also has a long history mixing land and politics in Bishkek. Askar Salymbekov, who leads the party but did not run for city council, owns the massive Dordoi Bazaar, the largest market in Central Asia and a central pillar of Kyrgyzstan’s economy. Another Emgek politician, Baktybek Abdiev, has been dealing with the fallout of a scandal that pushed him to step down in February 2020 as head of the State Agency for Architecture, Construction, and Communal Services.

Given these new deputies’ histories with corruption, it will be especially important for watchdog groups to keep close tabs on land deals and construction contracts in Bishkek in the coming months.

What Do We Make of This?

Although local council elections are a mechanism for political consolidation, they are not a perfect litmus test for future electoral success. This is partly due to Kyrgyzstan’s institutional design being in flux, but also because of the persistence of ideologically-thin politics.

First, electoral rules made it more difficult to win in city races than in national ones. The recent local council elections used a prohibitively high 7 percent threshold for parties to secure seats. This threshold previously applied to Kyrgyzstan’s parliamentary elections as well, but was lowered to 3 percent following analysis that linked the high threshold to October’s messy vote, blighted by accusations of vote-buying.

Japarov has gestured toward parliamentary elections later this year, and the lower threshold offers parties another chance at national policymaking. However, the new constitution makes parliament even more of a rubber stamp than it previously was.

In particular, the liberal Reforma party stands to make it eventually into governance circles. Reforma is an exception in the ideologically-thin party landscape, and its leaders have worked hard to communicate a clear platform and build a support network in urban areas. In Bishkek, Reforma just barely missed the 7 percent threshold; while Reforma’s inability to secure seats in parliament or on Bishkek’s city council is surely a disappointment, this is not necessarily the party’s last gasp.

Second, the new constitution has majorly shifted the relationship between the executive and legislative branches. Japarov will now serve both as head of state and head of government; the parliament will still exist, though reduced from 120 deputies to 90.

This changes the electoral calculus both for party leadership and individual politicians. Fewer seats in parliament could mean more intense competition, but it could be less attractive for politicians to serve in a weakened legislative body. In this context, it makes sense that several politicians who ran in the October elections (and might have served in parliament as moderately high-ranking members of Mekenchil and Birimdik had the Electoral Commission not annulled the results) pivoted to other organs of power in the capital.

Finally, it is also uncertain whether and how the president’s Mekenchil party will participate in nation policymaking moving forward. Japarov kept Mekenchil out of local elections to avoid rumors of abuse of administrative resources; regardless of whether you interpret this choice as genuine concern for fairness or shrewd PR scheming, the wild card of Mekenchil’s political future could have big political implications. The concern that Japarov has taken lessons from autocrats in neighboring countries (and Kyrgyzstan’s history) is valid, but it will be more difficult to build a power vertical without the infrastructure of a single ruling party. Even if Mekenchil is allowed to run candidates in upcoming parliamentary elections, the proliferation of parties and the porousness of their candidate lists make it unlikely that Mekenchil will function like Putin’s United Russia or Erdogan’s Justice and Development Party.