Central Asian Migrant Workers Head Back to Russia

In April, more than a year after the pandemic began, Russia finally reopened its air borders with Tajikistan and Uzbekistan (having already done so earlier for Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan). Russia desperately needs migrant workers to return, and Central Asians desperately need the jobs. But returning isn’t so easy, and Russia isn’t so welcoming.

In mid-April, Kremlin spokesman Dmitry Peskov didn’t want to comment on a recent statement from Magomedsalam Magomedov, deputy chief of staff of the presidential administration, that attitudes toward migrants had worsened in Russia.

Instead, Peskov told reporters, “I can only speak about the real state of affairs, which suggests that, in fact, we have very few migrants remaining over the past year. Actually, we have a severe dearth of these migrants to implement our ambitious plans.”

“We have to build more than we’re building now, but we need working hands to do it.”

In late 2020, the Russian government estimated that nearly half of all migrants living in the country before the pandemic had left. Once they left, there was no way for most to return. Russia, like many countries, closed its borders as a precautionary measure and only reopened them selectively.

Among the world’s most remittance dependent countries, Tajikistan is also uniquely dependent on Russia. Many Tajiks migrate seasonally for work in low-skilled and informal sectors, including agriculture and construction. According to the Russian Ministry of Internal Affairs, in 2019 more than 1.1 million Tajiks officially entered Russia for work, plus an unknown number who entered illegally or informally, working without registration. Tajikistan’s population is estimated at 9.3 million, meaning that officially almost 12 percent of the country traveled to Russia for work in 2019.

That economic reality was all the more painful as Russia opened its borders with various countries over the past few months, but not Tajikistan. It was only on April 1 that regular flights resumed between Moscow and Dushanbe, at a starting rate of one flight a week on two airlines. Before the pandemic, there were on average five flights a day between the two capitals.

Many Tajiks are desperate for the limited seats being offered by the Tajik airline Somon Air and Russia’s Utair. Meanwhile, the agency with a monopoly on selling tickets in Tajikistan is owned by Tajik President Emomali Rahmon’s daughter, Tahmina Rahmonova and her husband, Zarifbek Davlatov. Eurasianet reported that in the opening days hundreds amassed outside the ticking agency, some literally selling their family’s only cow for a chance to get to Dushanbe and get on a flight to Moscow. In the line, security guards were taking bribes to allow people to jump the queue. And despite government assurances that the tickets would be selling for around $500, a Eurasianet reporter was offered a ticket at nearly $700.

In 2019, the average annual household income per capita in Tajikistan was just under $600. Given the disruptions of 2020, many Tajiks likely made less than that and now they’re betting it all on a single flight to Russia.

The situation is further complicated by the fact that Russia has only opened its air border to Tajik citizens; they cannot officially enter via a land border. The trip north takes more time via bus, but is cheaper.

When Tajik migrants arrive, they’ll be returning to a place both familiar and foreign.

The day before Kremlin spokesman Peskov’s plea for migrants to return, at a meeting Novosibirsk Deputy Chief of Staff Magomedov commented that in 2020, one in four in Russia had a negative attitude toward migrants and that the trend was worsening.

Magomedov said that migrants often formed ethnic enclaves and that in turn contributed to crime and created fertile ground for conflict with local populations. He simultaneously called for law enforcement to tackle the issue while also supporting efforts to integrate migrants into Russian society. In particular, he remarked that while in 2020 almost 800,000 migrant minors were registered in Russia, only 140,000 attended Russian schools. Commenting that “most of them are future citizens of our country,” Magomedov pointed to Europe and the United States as a warning: “[There] migration pressure creates big problems for the indigenous population. We must not allow this.” [Note: By “indigenous” Magomedov almost certainly is referring to American citizens, rather than the actual indigenous population of North America.]

One need look no further than the backlash against ethnic Tajik singer Manizha’s winning of Russia’s spot in the Eurovision contest in March. As I wrote previously for The Diplomat Magazine, Manizha’s victory triggered a slew of nasty xenophobic comments online. Conservative groups in Russia attempted to get her music banned because it “aims to seriously insult and humiliate the human dignity of Russian women.” It did not matter that Manizha is a Russian citizen and has lived in Russia since the 1990s.

The contributions of ethnic Tajiks, whether Russian citizens or not, in Russia are often associated with the dirty work migrants do in construction projects and fields. While Russian officials are now admitting how necessary migrants are to the economy, the stench of racism is not so easy to clear from the air. Nevertheless, Tajiks will return to work in Russia as soon as they are able to buy a ticket.