Central Asia the Caucasus

CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

Journal of Social and Political Studies

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Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

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Giuli ALASANIA Doctor of History, professor, Vice Rector of the International Black Sea University (Georgia) Bülent ARAS Doctor, Chair, Department of International Relations, Fatih University (Turkey) Mariam ARUNOVA Doctor of Political Science, leading research associate, Institute of Oriental Studies, RAS (Russian Federation) Garnik ASATRIAN Doctor of Philology, professor, head of the Department of Iranian Studies, Erevan State University (Armenia) Bakyt BESHIMOV Doctor of History, professor, Vice President, American University-Central Asia (Kyrgyzstan) Ariel COHEN Doctor, leading analyst, The Heritage Foundation, U.S.A. (U.S.A.) William FIERMAN Doctor of Political Science, Professor of Indiana University (U.S.A.) Paul GOBLE Senior Advisor, Voice of America (U.S.A.) Sergei GRETSKY Doctor, Chair of Central Asian Studies, Foreign Service Institute, U.S. Department of State (U.S.A.) Xing GUANGCHENG Doctor of Political Science, professor, Deputy Director of the Institute for East European, Russian and Central Asian Studies, Chinese Academy of Social Sciences (China) Alexander IGNATENKO President, Institute of Religion and Politics, Doctor of Philosophy, specialist in Islamic studies, leading expert of the Institute of Social Systems, Moscow State University, member of the Council for Cooperation with Religious Associations under the Russian Federation President (Russian Federation) Ashurboi IMOMOV Ph.D. (Law), assistant professor, head of the Department of Constitutional Law, Tajik National University (Tajikistan) Lena JONSON Doctor, senior researcher, Swedish Institute of International Affairs (Sweden) Klara KHAFIZOVA Doctor of History, Director, Center for Strategic and International Studies, professor at the International Relations and Foreign Policy Department, Kainar University (Kazakhstan) Jacob M. LANDAU Professor of Political Science, The Hebrew University of Jerusalem (Israel) S. Neil MACFARLANE Professor, Director, Center for International Studies, The University of Oxford (Great Britain) Alexei MALASHENKO Doctor of History, professor, Scholar-in-Residence, Ethnicity and Nation-Building Program Co-Chair, The Carnegie Moscow Center (Russian Federation) Abbas MALEKI Dr., Director General, International Institute for Caspian Studies (Iran) Akira Ph.D., History of Central Asia and the Caucasus, Program Officer, The Sasakawa Peace MATSUNAGA Foundation (Japan) Roger N. McDERMOTT Honorary Senior Research Fellow, Department of Politics and International Relations, University of Kent at Canterbury (UK) Vitaly NAUMKIN Doctor of History, professor, Director, Center for Strategic and International Studies of RF (Russian Federation) Yerengaip OMAROV Professor, Rector of Kainar University, President of the Academy of Natural Sciences, Republic of Kazakhstan (Kazakhstan) Vladimer PAPAVA Doctor of Economics, professor, Corresponding member of the Georgian Academy of Sciences, Senior Fellow of the Georgian Foundation for Strategic and International Studies (Georgia) S. Frederick STARR Professor, Chairman, The Central Asia-Caucasus Institute, The Johns Hopkins University (U.S.A.)

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CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Journal of Social and Political Studies Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

IN THIS ISSUE:

ENERGY POLICY

Arbakhan OIL AND RUSSIA’S POLITICAL REGIME Magomedov. AT STAGES IN POST-COMMUNIST DEVELOPMENT: CONTINUITY OF RENT SEEKING WITHIN THE RAW-MATERIAL PARADIGM …….…………………………. 7

REGIONAL POLITICS

Abdolreza Farajirad, RUSSIA’S FOREIGN POLICY TOWARD Asaad THE CAUCASUS UNDER Khezerzade. VLADIMIR PUTIN ………...... …………………………. 20 4 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

Murat U.S. CENTRAL ASIAN POLICY Laumulin. UNDER PRESIDENT BARACK OBAMA ………...... …...... ……………………. 41

David SOME OF Babayan. CHINA’S GEOPOLITICAL VECTORS IN CENTRAL ASIA ………...... …………………………. 54

Vladimir Paramonov, Alexey Strokov, Oleg Stolpovskiy. CHINA IN CENTRAL ASIA ………...... …………………………. 66

Vladimir U.S. MIDDLE Karyakin. EASTERN POLICY: NEW APPROACHES AND OLD PROBLEMS ………...... …………………………. 79

Maya TURKEY AND SECURITY Manchkhashvili. IN THE SOUTHERN CAUCASUS: THE CAUCASUS STABILITY AND COOPERATION PLATFORM ………....……………………. 87

MASS MEDIA

Eric Freedman, TWO DECADES OF REPRESSION: Richard THE PERSISTENCE OF Shafer, AUTHORITARIAN CONTROLS ON Slavka THE MASS MEDIA Antonova. IN CENTRAL ASIA ………...... …………………………. 94

Navbahor Imamova, Richard CONTROVERSY ON THE AIRWAVES: Schaefer, PUBLIC DIPLOMACY, Richard PORTRAYING AMERICA, Shafer, AND PUBLIC OUTREACH THROUGH Eric THE VOICE OF Freedman. AMERICA UZBEK SERVICE ……...... …………………………. 110

5 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

REGIONAL STUDIES

Ashot POST-SOVIET SOCIAL PARTNERSHIP: Alexanyan. THE POLITICAL AND CIVILIARCHIC DIMENSIONS OF SOCIAL RESPONSIBILITY ………...... …………………………. 126

Contents of the Central Asia and the Caucasus Issues Volume 11, 2010 ……….……. 139

FOR YOUR INFORMATION The Special Feature section in the next issue will discuss:

n Central Eurasia: Politics Today

n Central Eurasia: Religion in the Sociopolitical Context

n Energy Policy and Energy Projects in Central Eurasia

6 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

ENERGY POLICY

OIL AND RUSSIA’S POLITICAL REGIME AT STAGES IN POST-COMMUNIST DEVELOPMENT: CONTINUITY OF RENT SEEKING WITHIN THE RAW-MATERIAL PARADIGM

Arbakhan MAGOMEDOV D.Sc. (Political Science), Professor, Head of the Public Relations Chair, Ulyanovsk State University (Ulyanovsk, Russian Federation)

Introduction

n 28 April, 2010, during a business trip to It should be said that the rent-seeking angle Astrakhan on the Caspian, Russian Prime throws the most typical features of Russia’s po- O Minister Vladimir Putin personally pushed litical regime into bolder relief. the button to start the region’s first drilling unit Here I have examined the rent-seeking phe- on the Korchagin platform. This moved Russia nomenon of Russian power at various stages of offshore in its sector of the Caspian and confirmed post-communist development in the oil sphere, that the Kremlin was as determined as ever to the country’s key resource, and the correlation remain within the raw-material paradigm; the between the raw-material opportunities and the nature of the political stimuli in the corridors of principles of political organization in Putin’s power became much clearer. Russia.

7 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Preamble: Oil and Russia

In the last fifteen years, the oil and gas factor has been responsible for impressive economic and political changes in Russia. Put in a nutshell, they can be described as follows:

1. Russia’s economy has become geared toward raw materials, the oil and gas sphere in particular, which has developed into the most successful branch of the post-Soviet economy. Whereas in 2000, the share of oil and gas in Russia’s export was 30%, by 2008 it had increased to 54%.1 Prominent economist Sergey Glaziev has pointed out that in recent years Russia’s economy has been demonstrating a “raw-material bias” unacceptable for any developed country: trade in mineral resources is responsible for over three quarters of the federal budget revenues.2 In the post-Soviet period, oil in Russia has become the most coveted natural resource with the largest income potential and a target of stiff competition. 2. The chaotic social decentralization of the 1990s invested the regions with a lot of power over their natural resources; continued regionalization of the state, which gave the regions real power, added fuel to the flames of the political rivalry already raging over local economic and natural resources. President Putin’s centralization of power designed to suppress local egoisms pushed this resource-related rivalry up to the national level. 3. The market reforms in Russia polarized the regions and reshuffled, at an unprecedented rate, the national wages fund.3 4. The banking elite, which in the early half of the 1990s represented the power and the glory of Russia’s business community, preserved its power by migrating into the oil sector to become a real elite of wealth.4 The raw-material dependence of Russia’s economy at all levels created a lot of concern in the country’s analytical community about the future of modernization in Russia.5

1 See: Rossia v tsifrakh, Goskomstat Rossii, Moscow, 2000, pp. 356, 368-369; V. Inozemtsev, “Porvat s traditsiey,” Ekstra tekst, Issue 2, Part 4, 2009, available at [http://www.politstudies.ru/extratext/lm/flm009.htm]. 2 See: S. Glaziev, “Diskussia ‘Mezhdu vyborami.’ Ekspertny opros gazety Zavtra,” Zavtra, 30 January, 2008, p. 1.The situation continued into 2010 when oil and gas brought 3.194 trillion rubles to the federal budget out of total revenues of 6.95 trillion, or 32.3% of budget spending in 2010. It was calculated that even if only direct oil- and gas-produced revenues (severance tax and export dues) are taken into account, 62% of the 2010 federal budget depends on oil prices, available at [http://rusanalit.livejournal.com/814654.html]. 3 See: K. Ivanov, “Propast mezhdu regionami—ugroza tselostnosti Rossii,” Ekobomika i zhizn, No. 8, February 1997, p. 1. This trend was obvious in the 2000s. In the last 10 years, the regions (as well as urban and rural communities inside the regions) have been demonstrating obvious inequality in revenues. The stunning oil prices (and oil revenues) of 2000- 2008 merely intensified the trend. 4 See: E. Khartukov pioneered investigations of this new phenomenon in his “Bankers Becoming New Masters of Oil Companies,” Petroleum Economist (London), Vol. 64, No. 2, February 1997, pp. 6-8. 5 This concern was obvious even before the “petroleum era” habitually identified with Putin (see, for example: E. Kvitko, “Neft vmesto reform. Interview s ispolnitelnym direktorom Ekspertnogo instituta A. Neshchadinym,” Moskovskie novosti, 4-10 April, 2000, p. 10). 8 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 The Rent-Seeking Phenomenon: My Analysis

For the purposes of my analysis, rent-seeking should be further specified since it has different interpretations: I relied on “rent seeking” as described by Anders Åslund to clarify the political interests in transition societies (a Russian case study).6 On the whole, there are economic (profit-seeking) and political (rent-seeking) investments; here I shall dwell on the political aspect of the rent-seeking phenomenon developing in the context of Russia’s (as a transition society) shaky stabilization moving toward a market economy. Rent seeking is realized as the usurped right to distribute and redistribute resources. It should be said that rent seeking in a fairly complicated transition context can be described as an unproductive form of social stabilization which allows certain groups to block off market competition to be free to pursue their own interests. Rent seeking in Russia can be divided into two stages with forms and scales of their own. n The first stage coincided with the 1990s when the stormy fragmentation of the Russian political field inevitably decentralized rent seeking: groups with specific interests and rent-seeking practices were taking shape at the regional level. n The second stage covered the 2000s when rent-seeking behavior survived, albeit in a different vector: rent-seeking practices became centralized and “Kremlin-ized” to arrive at a rentier state. In both cases, rent was extracted through complicated combinations in which the state and business were involved at different levels and in different combinations; politization of the oil business shows that the state has recognized “black gold” as a much more promising alternative than many others to be used to address numerous social problems.

1. Yeltsin’s Epoch: Social Fragmentation and Regionalization of Rent-Seeking Practices (Caspian Oil and the Russian Regions: the Nature and Directions of Local Political Stimuli)

I have posed myself the task of tracing the route that brought the regional elites to transportation of Caspian oil. The process began in the first half of the 1990s when a grandiose oil project, the Caspian Pipeline Consortium (CPC), was launched in the south of Russia intended to move Ka- zakhstan oil from Tengiz (on the northern Caspian shore) to Novorossiisk (on the Russian Black Sea coast). The following describes how the regional ruling groups became involved in distributing resources. The political decentralization of the 1990s caused a rush for control over economic property and resources; regional leaders were setting up, with gusto, a system of “administrative racket” and what

6 See: A. Åslund, “Reform versus ‘Rent-Seeking’ in Russia’s Economic Transformation,” Transistion, Vol. 2, No. 2, 26 January, 1996, pp. 12-16. 9 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS became known as governor’s economics to consolidate their political basis. The man-in-the-street habitually expected a “better future” from the local authorities. Unrestricted and mutually uncoordinated, the regional elites were free to pursue their own political interests. The gaps between the regions created tension and political conflicts; in the absence of investments and a labor market, the regions found it hard to identify their economic niches and relied on their natural resources and geographic location for competitive advantages. The 1998 default, a product of the chronic budget deficit, was interpreted in the regions as an end to federal subsidies; from that time on, rent and the struggle for it became the main driving force behind the economy. The above is best illustrated by three regions with unique agricultural specializations: the Astra- khan Region (fishing in general and the sturgeon-related industry); Kalmykia (sheep breeding), and the Krasnodar Territory (developed agriculture and the recreation industry). In the late 1990s, when the three regions became transit territories for the CPC, the local leaders developed oil-and-gas priorities. The regional rulers, city administrations, and the public found themselves in the heat of a public political struggle for transit fees in favor of the regional and local budgets.7 This suggests an answer to the question: What did the regional elites intend to gain from the expected oil boom? The elites of the three regions were guided by the same desire: they wanted to control the transit and raw-material resources to secure their political goals. This is best described as rent-seeking behavior. The oil and transit factors created new stimuli and readjusted the behavior of the regional economic and political players: they intended to use transit fees to resolve some of the local problems. In the economically deficient regions, these expectations made political battles for control over raw materials and transit flows inevitable. The political leaders of the Astrakhan Region, the Krasnodar Territory and, to an even greater extent, Kalmykia, behaved as rentier elites prepared to “skim” oil exports; severe political rivalry could no longer be avoided. The acute territorial conflict between the Astrakhan Region and Kalmykia was caused by the ardent desire of their political elites to grab as much money as possible in the form of transit fees through the disputed lands. The people were lavished with promises of fantastic future prosperity and incred- ible wealth. Former President of Kalmykia Kirsan Iliumzhinov said that the country should become a petroleum republic and added “with oil production of up to 3 million tons there will be no need for people to work”; normally very restrained former governor of the Astrakhan Region A. Guzhvin joined in the chorus.8 The change in power in the Kremlin created a multitude of questions; the regional leaders won- dered how the end of the Yeltsin era would affect their positions and whether they would be allowed to draw “pipeline” rent and keep oil production and oil transit in the political field. The first months of Putin’s presidency created cautious comments about the limited federal impact on the regional leaders. The most perspicacious of analysts, however, spoke about radical changes on the political arena. In his Introduction to The Political Economy of Russian Oil (which appeared in 1999 while Yeltsin was still president), David Lane offered a much more correct forecast: “There is a potential … for the

7 For more detail, see: A. Magomedov, R. Nikerov, Bolshoy Kaspiy. Energeticheskaia geopolitika i tranzitnye voy- ny na etapakh postkommunizma, Ulaynovsk, UlGU, 2010, pp. 36-94. 8 See: NG-Regiony, No. 15, 1998, p. 4; Obshchaia gazeta, 7-13 September, 2000, p. 6. 10 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 president to gain greater control and probably to move toward a self-generating form of capitalism with the energy industry at its center.”9 The president alone, as the key factor and driving force, could implement this scenario, which the then dominating export-orientated private oil companies could not accept since it contradicted their interests. David Lane concluded his Introduction with “further internal dislocation and a new nationalist or Communist president could well turn the country in the direction of a more corporate state capitalism.”

2. From Yeltsin to Putin: Kremlin-ization of Rent Seeking and the Establishment of a Rentier State

With Putin’s advent to power, the idea of a national state moved to the fore to become the strongest political emotion in Russia in the 21st century. Here I shall analyze the impact of the oil and resource factor in general on Russia’s domestic policy in the 2000s. Yeltsin’s regime survived in the 1990s by decentralizing power; this was the time of highly personalized regional regimes seeking short-term priorities (classical rent-seeking behavior) amid political turmoil. Putin, on the other hand, steered a course toward centralized power and depersonalized political processes in the regions; the time had come to suppress local egoisms, centralize financial and raw- material resources, and put on more pressure in line with the “resource accumulation” obvious all over the world. Under the new law, 100 percent of severance tax went to the federal treasury; the local leaders left out in the cold grumbled. The Astrakhan Regional Duma, for example, described the new budget policy of the federal center as “destructive for the territories;” a boycott of the elections to the State Duma in December 2003 was also suggested. Elista (the capital of Kalmykia) reacted very much in the same line: the government’s decision to take 100 percent of the transit fee for using Kalmykia’s territory was described as a “gross violation of the principles of federalism and elementary fairness.”10 So Putin’s state centralization policy and efforts to keep the political influence of the regional centers in check led to the regional authorities being deprived of the opportunity to draw rent from the pipelines in the form of CPC revenue and keep oil production and oil transit in the political field, as they had wanted.

The Putin Factor in the Development of Russian Energy Policy

At the beginning of the 21st century, an oil boom decade began in Russia prompted by the unprecedented increase in world oil prices; beginning in 1996, the cost of one barrel of oil rose almost ten-fold.

9 D. Lane, Introduction, in: The Political Economy of Russian Oil, ed. by D. Lane, Rowman & Littlefield Publish- ers, Inc., Lanham, Boulder, New York, Oxford, 1999, p. 10. 10 Vecherniaia Elista, 26 January, 2002 11 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

It should be said that the new policy was Putin’s brainchild, an opinion shared by the analyst community and top managers of oil companies. “Vladimir Putin has proved that he is master of the economics, politics and technical details of the energy business,” wrote American observer Andrew Kramer. He added that the Russian president had emerged as a politician deeply interested in his country’s most important economic branch.11 According to Lord Browne, former BP president, “Putin was well briefed and knew a lot about BP and about me. He was very impressive. I remember thinking to myself: regardless of what this man stands for, he is exceedingly competent.”12 From his very first days in the Kremlin (2000), Putin remained convinced that the state could be revived by exporting natural resources, energy resources in particular. This allowed Marshall I. Gold- man, an American expert in Russia, to write: “Russia has emerged—even if inadvertently—as a different breed of a superpower, one whose power rests on economics and energy.”13 During his eight years as president, Putin coped with the task of setting up a system capable of profiting from the market economy and its advantages and keeping private business riveted to the state’s strategic interests. The state “pacified” Mikhail Khodorkovsky, a well-known oil magnate, who intended to sell his YUKOS Company to ExxonMobil and Chevron.14 Vladimir Putin changed the Product Sharing Agreement for Sakhalin (which he dismissed as “colonial”) in Russia’s favor. As distinct from the Western press, which treated Putin’s economic strategy superficially and crudely as “nationalization,” Marshall Goldman in his Petrostate deemed it necessary to point out, “In all fairness, the way the Russian government reacts when foreign investors attempt to buy their energy resources is not that atypical of how most countries react in a similar situation.”15 It is commonly believed that after the federal reform and “equidistance for the oligarchs” (the YUKOS case is the most graphic example), the state became autonomous of external influence groups. The truth is that, even in the new context, there were competing clans which used state resources, while the state was disintegrating into groups. Gazprom’s attempt to become an energy mammoth, Gosneft, by swallowing Rosneft serves as the best example. It took several months of behind-the-scenes fracas to stop the pressure.16 Later, in November 2005, Gazprom was allowed to buy Roman Abramovich’s Sibneft for $13.1 billion, which made Gazprom and Rosneft the key players in Russia’s oil and gas context. These two largest companies supplied Putin’s critics and the experts with their thesis about “nationalization” of Russia’s oil industry. The expert community differed on its assessments of the power, property, and political system shaped by Putin. Some experts talked about authoritarianism, others about “sovereign” democracy, while the majority used the terms “nationalist authoritarianism,” “centralized corporate etatism,” “situational bureaucratic-authoritarian statehood,” etc.

11 The International Herald Tribune, 30 January, 2009. 12 J. Browne, “Regardless of What Putin Stands for, He is Exceedingly Competent,” The Times, 5 February, 2010. 13 M.I. Goldman, Petrostate: Putin, Power, and the New Russia, Oxford University Press, USA, 2008, p. 16. 14 Well-known analyst William Engdahl offers the details and preliminaries of this court case in: W.F. Engdahl, “The Emerging Russian Giant Plays its Cards Strategically,” Global Research, Canada, 20 October, 2006. 15 M.I. Goldman, op. cit., p. 87. 16 The fact that the heavyweights from the Kremlin and the Cabinet: from Gazprom (A. Kudrin, D. Medvedev, A. Miller, V. Khristenko); S. Oganesian (who headed the Federal Energy Agency); and from Rosneft (S. Bogdanchikov and I. Sechin) were involved in the conflict, which lasted from December 2004 to February 2005, shows that the victory was hard won. The battle was accompanied by both sides’ numerous public commentaries in the media (see: D. Skorobogatko, D. Butrin, I. Rybalchenko, E. Kiseleva, “Gosudarstvo raskololos na neft i gaz. Borba za control nad ‘Rosneftiu’ pereshla v otkrytuiu fazu,” Kommersant, 2 February, 2005, pp. 1, 13). 12 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

It is commonly believed that the Russian state system is corporate; this means that the country is ruled as a big corporation with the help of corporate-clan structures. Andrey Illarionov, Putin’s political advisor and later one of his most vehement critics, supplied the most colorful arguments to prove that Russia under Putin had become a “corporate-police” state. On 28 November, 2005, he was invited to the Russian State Humanities University to give an open lecture on “The Venezuela-zation of Russia.” To prove his point, he ascribed the symptoms of so-called Dutch disease (an inflow of foreign currency, rapid increase in the money supply, growth of import, decline of national industry, and galloping inflation) to what he called the Venezuelan disease. Later he went even further to com- pare Russia’s corporate state of Putin’s time with the corporate state of Benito Mussolini, who spoke a lot yet said very little. Later, more Putin critics (from Kasparov to Brzezinski)17 joined in the game with no less colorful epithets. The above can be described as the extreme opinion about Putin’s Russia, a product of ideological bias and fanning of passions. Prof. Peregudov, on the other hand, has offered his opinion of the corporate state conception which, he argued, simplified and rectified the intricacies of political relations in Russia.18 Emotions and assessments apart, the facts speak for themselves: the share of state companies in oil production in the “early Putin era” (2000-2005) was 26%, which is not a lot.19 In 2003, these companies accounted for 24%, in 2007 their share increased to 37.3% (see Table 1), and by the mid-2008, it had reached 43%.20 This means that after 2003 the state merely increased its direct control over the oil and gas industry, which cannot be described as “nationalization.” It should be said that privately controlled companies are responsible for over half of the oil produced. The above disproves the thesis that “under Putin, privatization moved backwards” even to the point of “full state revenge” and that those who think the oil industry was completely or almost completely nationalized in Putin’s Russia are wrong. This is what Thomas Gomart of the Institut français des relations internationales (IFRI) has to say on the matter: Under Putin, energy-related policy based on re-nationalization of assets became the most important and obvious factor of Russia’s power. This factor inspired Russia in its race for prestige, which developed into the Kremlin’s internal and external obsession.21 Before the financial crisis of 2008, state-owned enterprises and companies with predominant state involvement accounted for about half of Russia’s capital stock, Gazprom being the best example of the arrangement. It is a “hybrid,” a state-private corporation. According to Kommersant, the state’s share in Gazprom (in October 2009) was 49.773 percent.22

17 See: A. Illarionov, “Drugaia strana,” Kommersant, 23 January, 2006; G. Kasparov, “Vykhoda net. Kakoy stroy segodnia v Rossii?” Interview at Echo of Moscow radio, 2 May, 2008; Z. Brzezinski, “Putin’s Choice,” The Washington Quarterly, Vol. 31, No. 2, Spring 2008, pp. 95-116. 18 See: S. Peregudov, “Biznes i biurokratia: osobennosti simbioza. Mozhno li schitat Rossiiu korporativnym gos- udarstvom?” Nezavisimaia gazeta, 11 March, 2006; idem, “Politicheskaia sistema Rossii posle vyborov 2007-2008 godov: factory stabilizatsii i destabilizatsii,” Part 2, Polis, No. 3, 2009, pp. 158-159. 19 See: P. Orekhin, E. Samedova, “Korporatsia ‘Kreml’ uspeshno porabotala,” Nezavisimaia gazeta, 26 July, 2005, pp. 1, 3; O. Vinogradova, “ ‘Puting’ v deystvii,” Neftegazovaia vertikal, No. 15, 2007. 20 See: Vedomosti, 9 June, 2008; S. Peregudov, “Politicheskaia sistema Rossii posle vyborov 2007-2008 godov: factory stabilizatsii i destabilizatsii,” Part 2, p. 150. 21 See: T. Gomart, “Russia Alone Forever? The Kremlin’s Strategic Solitude,” Politique Etrangere, Vol. 73, Issue SPECI, 2008, pp. 23-34. 22 See: O. Mordiushenko, D. Rebrov, “‘Gazpromu’ predlagaiut sdat aktsii. Chtoby vosstanovit kontrol gosudarstva nad monopoliey,” Kommersant, 22 October, 2009. 13 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

Table 1 Oil and Gas Condensate Produced in Russia in 2007 (million tons)

Company Production

I. State-controlled (federal and sub-national)

1) Rosneft* 101.2

2) Gazpromneft 45.3

3) Tatneft 25.7

4) Bashneft 10.7

II. Privately owned:

1) LUKoil** 91.1

2) TNK-BP 89.6

3) Surgutneftegaz 63.8

4) Russneft 14.2

III. Others 50.0

Total 491.0

The Share of State-controlled companies (%) 37.3

* In 2008, Rosneft’s share increased slightly compared to 2007 from 101.2 to 106.1 million tons. ** LUKoil’s production of crude oil in Russia (without its involvement in international cooperation and its place in world’s production).

S o u r c e s: Ph. Hanson, “The Resistible Rise of State Control in the Russian Oil Industry,” Eurasian Geography and Economics, No. 1, 2009, p. 15; Vedomosti, 22 July, 2008 (figures for Gazpromneft); [http://www.gks.ru/bgd/B08_11/lssWWW.exe/ Stg/d02/14-09.htm; http://www.Rosneft.com/Upstream/ProductionAnd Development; http://www.lukoil.com/static_6_5id.25k_html; http://www.tnk-bp. com/company; http://www.surgutneftegas.ru/eng/about.xpml; http://eng. russneft.ru/community; http://www.tatneft.ru/eng/dobycha.htm; http://www.anrb. ru/ise/banks/eng/branches/neftedob/bashneft/index.htm].

A new stage of property redistribution in the oil and gas sector began when Rosneft bought YUKOS, while Gazprom bought Sibneft. It claimed new victims. Large-scale projects with a large share of foreign money, such as Sakhalin-1, Sakhalin-2, Sakhalin-3, and Sakhalin-5, and administrative pressure on the Shell-headed consortium in the form of ecology-related fines and fines for the failure to stick to the construction schedule made Gazprom the owner of the controlling share in Sa- khalin Energy.

14 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

This above testifies to the fact that the state was never unscrupulous when it came to administrative pressure. This instrument was applied selectively; everyone realized that the “rules of the game” had changed. Indeed, in the past (the 1990s), the state had been driven by business considerations. It remained to be seen what rules would appear in the country once the state captured business. Indeed, was it merely a hint that anyone bold enough to clash with the government would lose his property? It is impossible to specify the role and nature of the stimuli behind the mounting state control as part of the strategy of “resource accumulation.” It is the political stimuli which belong to the inner structure of the political system rather than the form of property that count. Russia is currently exhibiting the rent seeking at the federal level that was obvious at the regional level in the 1990s. It seems that the firm grip of the group now in power on the country’s economy and the rent- seeking behavior of some of its members account for the processes described above. In Russia, the channels of anonymous “siphoning-off” rent from private or state-controlled companies are virtually the same. The correlation between private and state interests in the process can hardly be established; it is indistinguishable in the Russian discourse. In other words, in the corrupt political context, the private/ state property distinctions are not as clear as it is normally believed. Ph. Hanson of Great Britain has argued that “in current Russian circumstances the political elite’s objectives of maintaining a monopoly on power and siphoning off resource rents may be served as well or better by private companies controlled by allies than by state concerns.”23 The property of many Russian companies is far from transparent; some of them controlled by the state are registered offshore, which makes the borders between business and politics hazy or even nonexistent. Property of this sort can be concealed; there is any number of reliable and intricate methods in Russia today. The world’s third largest oil trader, the Gunvor Group founded in 1997, serves as the most graphic example of such practices. Half of it is owned by Gennady Timchenko, Putin’s friend and business partner; Törbjörn Törnquist from Sweden is another owner, while the name of the third owner remains unknown.24 Gunvor International BV set up by a Cypriot company (Gunvor Cyprus Holding Limited) is registered in Amsterdam; several Gunvor companies belonging to Timchenko are found on the Brit- ish Virgin Islands; both structures have offices in Geneva.25 It is not my task to sort out the Gunvor Group’s offshore connections; I just want to demonstrate the present Russian government’s obsession with business interests and its determination to keep the channels of their realization under cover. It remains unclear why large, and even state-controlled, companies sell huge amounts of oil to Timchenko’s company (his structure accounts for 60 percent of Rosneft’s oil exports). Novaia gazeta told a story by A. Navalniy, a minority shareholder of three companies (Gazprom, Rosneft, and Surgutneftegaz) who went to court to obtain information about their deals with the Gun- vor Group. He got nowhere and lost every case.26

23 Ph. Hanson, “The Resistible Rise of State Control in the Russian Oil Industry,” Eurasian Geography and Econom- ics, No. 1, 2009, pp. 14-27. 24 See: R. Shleynov, “Kto tretiy vladelets ‘Gunvora’?” Novaia gazeta, 12 October, 2009, pp. 2-3. 25 See: R. Shleynov, “Neftetreyder ‘prozrachnoy vody’,” Novaia gazeta, 24 August, 2009, pp. 2-3. 26 See: Ibidem. 15 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

Here is another example. In 2003, Surgutneftegaz of Russia refused to submit its GAAP (Gen- eral Accepted Accounting Principles) financial reports to conceal information about property.27 Russ- neft, Russia’s eighth largest company in terms of oil production, likewise does not publicize its GAAP reports. The Gunvor Group did not make its business structure public until 2007. There is no detailed information about the mechanisms of NOVATEK, Russia’s second largest gas company after Gazprom. We should admit that the ruling class of the Putin era is following in the footsteps of the oligarchs of the previous, Yeltsin, period. Oksana Gaman-Golutvina, who has made a name for herself by studying the Russian political elite, wrote that “for the first time in Russian history the 1990s became a period of a symbiosis of sorts between power and business. Today it is not easy to detach one from the other.”28 In these conditions, the state’s stronger control should be interpreted as stronger positions of certain groups of civil servants. According to head of the Center for Elite Studies at the Institute of Sociology, RAS, Olga Kry- shtanovskaia, in the first two years of Putin’s presidency, the upper echelon of power changed a quarter of its member. The new leader, however, preserved the oligarchic model of property and power he inherited from the 1990s. I am not going to quarrel with the comment, albeit inaccurate, that under Putin “the Yeltsin oligarchs either disappeared or prefer to keep low profile.”29 It is not my intention to discuss personal- ities—I am going to analyze the government that reproduced oligarchic leechlike behavior and that Putin preserved intact. While holding forth about a “strong state,” Putin’s closest circle adapted the oligarchic mechanisms of redistribution of the 1990s to the new reality. Very much as before, the new interest groups were geared toward grabbing and rent seeking as the principal form of their existence and management. This is largely responsible for the inefficiency of Putin’s state. Putin’s law-enforcement colleagues did a lot to shape Russia’s political image; they changed the regime, but remaining within the bounds of the 1990s, and transformed the Yeltsin anarchic autocracy with its carnival undertones into a hierarchical paternalist state based, very much as before, on rent- seeking and oligarchic stimuli and short-term interests. The split inside Putin’s elite within the Yeltsin model is nothing more than a form of redistribution of power and property among the individual cells of the same system. This is best shown by the shocking details of the “CHEKA infighting” Victor Cherkessov, former head of the Fed- eral Drug Control Service and one of Putin’s comrades-in-arms, revealed in his article “Nelzia dopustit, chtoby voiny prevratilis v torgovtsev” (We Cannot Allow Fighters to Degenerate into Petty Traders). Co-owner of the industrial-financial Finansgroup Company O. Shvarzman said practically the same thing in his interview “Partiiu dlia nas olitsetvoriaet silovoy blok, kotory vozglavliaet Igor Ivano-

27 See: C. Belton, N. Buckley, “On the Offensive: How Gunvor Rose to the Top of Russian Oil Trading,” Financial Times, 14 May, 2008; Ph. Hanson, op. cit., p. 25. The same happens in other branches. The Arbitrary Court in Zurich recognized former RF minister for information technologies and communications L. Reyman as the only beneficiary owner of the Bermuda IPOC fund and owner of a number of offshore companies registered under several jurisdictions and connected with IPOC business. The Russian authorities refrained from any comments; they merely blocked this information for the Russian media (see: I. Tsukanov, R. Dorokhov, “Svidetel No. 7. Arbitrazh Zurikha priznal ego benefitsiarom POC,” Vedo- mosti, 23 May, 2006). 28 O. Gaman-Golutvina, “So-doklad k dokladu A. Evina, ‘Dilemmy evropeizatsii v svete sopernichestva vnutri elit. Na sravnitelnom opyte Turtsii i Rossii’,” in: Russkie chtenia, Issue 1, December 2004-June 2005, Gruppa ekspert, Moscow, 2006, p. 83. 29 A. Samarina, “Pervaia desiatiletka V. Putina. Evolutsia ot agonii separatizma k gosudarstvu-mifu,” Nezavisimaia gazeta, 7 August, 2009. 16 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 vich Sechin” (In Our Eyes the Power-wielding Bloc, headed by Igor Ivanovich Sechin, is the Very Embodiment of the Party). These two articles, which appeared in the Kommersant newspaper,30 told about an intertwining of political and business interests at the level of the presidential administration and the special services. The “Putin-Khodorkovsky” and “the Kremlin-YUKOS” relationships prove that the nature of the political stimuli and responses demonstrated by the Russian elite today can be described as political continuity rather than a sign of radical changes. There is not much difference between the way Khodorkovsky treated his business partners and rivals and the way the oligarchs in the Kremlin treated YUKOS. William F. Engdahl had the following to say on this score: “Subsequent Western media and official protest about Russia’s return to communist methods and raw power politics conveniently ignored the fact that Khodorkovsky was hardly Snow White himself.”31 At one time, Khodorkovsky unilaterally cancelled a contract with BP and deprived it of considerable investments. As a one-time partner of YUKOS, BP had invested $300 million in exploration drilling at the Priobskoe oil fields in Siberia. As soon as drilling was over, Khodorkovsky unseated it ways that most countries of the developed world would consider lawless. Prof. Michael McFaul of Stanford University, expert on Russia and currently President’s Obama Top Advisor on Russia, poured a lot of irony into his story of how Sechin and other heads of Rosneft bought, through a counterfeit company, the basic assets of YUKOS with their public flotation (IPOs) at the London Stock Exchange; they copied Mikhail Khodorkovsky’s tactics. Here is his story: “These guys [from the Kremlin] are using his strategy, complete with hiring PR people in Washington, who are spinning people like me and telling me why the offering is not such a bad thing. It seems like they’re following a similar trajectory: They used political power to steal assets and now they are trying to legitimate those assets in the West, which was exactly what Khodor- kovsky was trying to do.”32 The methods are practically identical, even if the tables were turned in 2006: the RF leaders were looking at the West in the hope of developing Russian companies into big international players. In other words, they tried to exchange expropriated property for money and invited large Western financial institutions to invest in Russia’s oil industry. Under Putin, the political regime changed to a great extent, but rent seeking and the redistribution stimuli of the political elite survived into the 2000s. According to Sergey Kurginian, the state is not viewed as an instrument through which the nation “extends and develops its historical predestina- tion,” but as an instrument of division and redivision of property and legalization of the results. In fact, Putin’s state, an heir to the Yeltsin system, has preserved the post-Soviet model, the main objective of which is to extend the transition period. This is why it is inefficient and oligarchic in nature. There is no talk about a greater share of business in the state33 and the nature of the relations between corporate business and politics. A system of stimuli behind the rent-seeking model of Rus-

30 See: V. Cherkessov, “Nelzia dopustit, chtoby voiny prevratilis v torgovtsev,” Kommersant, 9 October, 2007; O. Shvarzman, “Partiu dlia nas olitsetvoriaet silovoy blok, kotory vozglavliaet Igor Ivanovich Sechin,” Kommersant, 30 No- vember, 2007. 31 This is confirmed by former BP head who described his meeting with Khodorkovsky in the following words: “Bespectacled, soft-spoken Khodorkovsky could at first glance be mistaken as unassuming… He began to talk about get- ting people elected to the Duma, about how he could make sure oil companies did not pay much tax, and about how he had many influential people under his control… But there was something untoward about his approach” (J. Browne, op. cit.). 32 The Washington Post, 27 June, 2006. 33 See: S. Peregudov, who relied on information supplied by “elitologists,” wrote about the increasingly important role the business elite played in state governance. In 1993, only 1.6% of civil servants had previous experience in business;

17 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS sia’s economy and politics is on the agenda. The Kremlin invariably retreats in the face of groups seeking a firmer grip on rent to the detriment of creative and innovation interests.

Conclusion

The rent-seeking concept brings us closer to a more profound understanding of the nature of political stimuli in Russia at all levels of power. The political and economic players are spending too much of their energy on dividing the pork barrel rather than concentrating on productive efforts to create added value and new knowledge. I have written above that rent seeking should not be mistaken for a purely economic phenomenon; it creates a context in which the quality of the political system and state institutions (used either to curb or encourage rent seekers) comes to the fore. In the 1990s, the local and regional authorities set up “protectionist racket” in their regions; Vladimir Putin and the new Kremlin leaders opted for centralized protectionist control. In the 2000s, the center monopolized the rent-seeking model. Russian analyst Sergey Markedonov has written: “The 1990s were the decade of the regional ‘political raiders,’ the turn of the ‘central power raiders’ came in the 2000s.”34 This is what brings the Yeltsin and the Putin eras closer together. In the 2000s, Putin and Medvedev were forced to adjust the strategic oligarchic line of the 1990s with the help of petrodollars. Russia was growing rich on the skyrocketing world oil prices: between 1998 and July 2008, the price of one barrel increased from $10 to $147.27; between 2000 and 2008, Russia’s GDP more than doubled; its international reserves increased 60-fold to reach $600 billion on the eve of the 2008-2009 world financial crisis. Here is another impressive fact: in the second quarter of 2009, Russia outstripped Saudi Arabia, the leader of the world’s oil sector, in terms of crude oil supplies and petroleum products, producing 7.4 million barrels a day compared to Saudi Arabia’s 7 million. This confirms the thesis of rent seeking as an unproductive model of social stabilization in a transition society (Russia). Despite manifesting the obvious faults of a corrupt state, the Putin era doubled real incomes, decreased the poverty level by 50%, and increased GDP by 70%; the Stabilization Fund received $157 billion. In 2007, the country acquired $1 billion petrodollars every week.35 In the early 21st century (after the 1998 August crisis), the developing energy sector was behind Russia’s obvious stronger economic health; it improved thanks to much more efficient taxation of the much higher oil- and gas-created rent incomes. State revenues doubled, while the share of those living below the poverty level dropped from 30% to 14% of the total population. According to Australian expert Robert Cameron, real wages in Russia grew at the rate of about 12% a year; the middle class under Putin swelled from 8 to 55 million.36 in 2002 their share increased to11.3%; in 2008, to 39.8%. The economic and political elites are intertwining even more: big business is invited to elaborate the “party line” of the United Russia Party, which incorporates business into the power system (see: S.P. Peregudov, “Politicheskaia sistema v Rossii posle vyborov 2007-2008 godov: factory stabilizatsii i destabilizatsii,” Part 2, p. 146). 34 S. Markedonov, “Trikolor separatizma,” Gazeta, 1 April, 2009. 35 See: V. Volkov, Lecture: “Transformatsia rossiiskogo gosudarstva posle 2000 goda,” Polit.RU. Public lectures. 36 See: R. Cameron, “Putin Marks 10 Years of Extraordinary Achievement,” The Sydney Morning Herald, 11 Janu- ary, 2010. 18 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

Under Putin, the country surged forward on old resources and infrastructure. The fact that rent distribution and redistribution, a favorite game of the political elite, remains in the center of Russia’s politics is very disturbing. Dmitry Badovskiy has written that, while talking about innovation priorities, the Russian elite prefers to remain within the familiar and cozy logic of rent distribution.37 The man-in-the-street, who had enough of the “survival struggle” of the 1990s, acquired his share of the rent in the last “prosperous” decade. This fanned the “fire of consumerism:” people learned to regard themselves as part of a “consumer society.” Practiced under Putin, the rentier strategy (centralization and redistribution of the rent through the state budget) improved the nation’s material standards. The people at the helm, riding high in the saddle, encouraged consumerism, thus opting for stability rather than dynamism and modernization.

37 See: D. Badovskiy, “Problema bezbiltenika,” Gazeta, 23 June, 2008.

19 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

REGIONAL POLITICS

RUSSIA’S FOREIGN POLICY TOWARD THE CAUCASUS UNDER VLADIMIR PUTIN

Dr. Abdolreza FARAJIRAD Professor at Tehran Azad University and E.C.O. College (Tehran, IRI)

Asaad KHEZERZADE M.A Student, Area Studies Department at the Allameh Tabatabaei University (Tehran, IRI)

Introduction

his paper seeks to examine Russia’s foreign When examining states’ foreign policy, a policy toward the Caucasus during Vladimir number of different variables should be included T Putin’s presidency. Moreover, the period be- in the analysis and this makes it difficult to explain tween 2000 and 2008 was one of the most impor- the foreign policy of one state in particular. Be- tant eras for Russian-Caucasian relations under low we have tried to explore Russia’s foreign Vladimir Putin in Russia, since his presidency policy and foreign aims by means of psycholog- brought about significant changes in Russia’s ical and other non-material factors. foreign policy. However, this study will not ana- Each foreign policy is derived from the lyze pre-2000; instead, it will concentrate on cer- state’s and people’s normative system, which is tain facts and events that are important for under- primarily presented in the state constitution or standing the period between 2000 and 2008. other official documents, or even in states’ histo-

20 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 ry presentations. In Russia’s case, these values are strongly against this view; they (Eurasianists) strictly linked to Russian history, when Russia claimed that Russia was, is, and will always be was a great nation that decided all world affairs Eurasian and a super power. Putin belonged to the and Russians interpreted the position of the Rus- latter group that tried to restore Russia’s Great sian state from this perspective. Power status. Russia’s instability after the collapse of the Putin shifted Russia’s foreign policy to a Soviet Union in the 1990s created great turmoil strong and certain one aimed at gaining maxi- in Russia’s foreign policy. This was because the mum economic benefits. As Freedman says, Russian political elites were unable to form a clear Putin’s foreign policy was aimed at strengthen- national identity or define the state’s national in- ing the Russian economy in the hope that in the terests. They were unable to answer the old/new not-too-distant future Russia might regain its question of whether Russia belongs to the West status as a great power.1 Putin brought political or to the East. and economic stability to Russia with his new The first group of Russian political elites foreign and domestic policy. So many Russians under Yeltsin (Westernizers) chose a pro-West- began referring to Putin as the New Russian ern foreign policy and defined Russia’s national Czar. identity as a Western country. According to this definition, Russia tried to build good relations 1 See: R. Freedman, “Russian Policy Toward the with the Western countries, especially the U.S, Middle East under Putin: The Impact of 9/11 and the War in and forget the Cold War. The other wing was Iraq,” Alternatives, Vol. 2, No. 2, 2003.

The Roots of Russia’s Foreign Policy

The Russian state was historically not constructed as a state of the Russian nation understood as a political community in itself, but rather as an imperial aggregation of territories and people who were expected to show loyalty to the Czar. In contrast to the experience of most other empires, where formation of the national identity of the metropolis preceded empire-building, the formation of the modern Russia nation coincided with colonial expansion. The image that most Russians had of their homeland was based on the conception of Russia as a multiethnic, rather than specifically Russian empire. This ideology was deeply enforced during Soviet times as well and Russians were encouraged to identify the Soviet Union as their homeland.2 In 1919, when Russia was in the midst of its Civil War, developments in the country in many ways followed the 1990s scenario. The main difference was that they were much more rapid and catastrophic than during the 1990s. In February 1917, the imperial government collapsed almost over- night, with practically no resistance. The communist regime ended in a similar way in 1991. In both of these cases, the events were celebrated as the beginning of a new era, an era of happiness and ideal democracy, with success following in all directions.3 When the Soviet Union fell apart in December 1991, the Russian political elites were faced with the question of whether new Russia would cast off the legacy of the Soviet and czarist past or

2 See: G. Smith, “The Masks of Proteus: Russia, Geopolitical Shift and the New Eurasianism,” Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers, Vol. 24, 1999. 3 See: A. Dugin, “Russian Nationalism Today,” Contemporary Review, Vol. 279, 2001, pp. 29-37. 21 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS carry that legacy forward in whole or in part. The significance of Russian Question is commonly understood as a set of dilemmas about the nature of Russia’s identity and its relationship to the Russian state.4 The question of Russia’s identity—what sort of state should Russia be and what does it want?— pervaded the political discourse. Should Russia seek to “return to Europe,” as many of its post-communist neighbors sought to do? Should it rebuild the Soviet Union? Should Russia be a liberal market democracy, or a post-authoritarian regime attempting to modernize along Chinese lines? To address these questions, this study argues that national identity is a key factor in determining foreign policy behavior. Members of the political elite develop aspirations based on common historical memories. Motivated by value rationality and the need for collective self-esteem, they introduce competing national self-images into the political discourse. National self-images are sets of ideas about the country’s political purpose and international status. Members of the political elite propagate national self-images in an effort to define national identity and national interests. National self-images are candidate national identities at play in the political debate at any given time. Like national identities, national self-images consist of ideas regarding a state’s international status and its political purpose. They entail prescriptions regarding what the country should be and do, in other words, the country’s substantive national interests and its desire to behave in a particular way in its external relations.5 National identity is impossible to separate from history; but even more so, it is impossible to separate from what each country chooses to focus upon within its history. Selection and interpretation of history, used to bolster national identity, greatly affects how each country orients its foreign policy; while foreign policy, in turn, is very much about protecting national interests and projecting them on an international scale. Foreign policy depends upon a shared sense of national identity which, in turn, determines other important issues, such as which states are viewed as friends or enemies, what national interests are, and what the state’s aspirations are. States act as “power projectors.” These actors act outside of their legal territory with the goal of affecting the world order and are laden with ideological assumptions.6 If one national self-image succeeds in dominating public discourse over time, it becomes institutionalized not only in the form of domestic laws, regulations, and symbolic and governmental structures, but also as stable expectations of rights, privileges, jurisdictions, obligations, and norms of behavior in relations with other states and among domestic societal actors. The ideas it entails about the state’s international status and political purpose become national interests—values to be upheld, defended, and projected. Other national self-images will continue to exist and be debated in the political discourse, but unless they displace the dominant national self-image in appearing to offer historically appropriate and practical means to fulfill aspirations, and thus enhance collective self-esteem, they are unlikely to be salient for the majority and therefore unlikely to shape national interests.7

4 See: A. Ingram, “Broadening Russia’s Border? The Nationalist Challenge of the Congress of Russian Communi- ties,” Political Geography, No. 20, 2001, pp. 197-219. 5 See: J. Legro, “The Transformation of Policy Ideas,” American Journal of Political Science, Vol. 44, No. 3, 2000, pp. 419-432. 6 See: H. Houweling, M.P. Amineh, “The Crisis in IR-Theory: Towards a Critical Geopolitics Approach,” in: Cen- tral Eurasia in Global Politics: Conflict, Security and Development, ed. by H. Houweling, M.P. Amineh, Brill Academic Publishers, Leiden, Boston, 2005, pp. 9-16 7 See: W. Citrin, B. Duff, “The Meaning of American National Identity: Patterns of Ethnic Conflict and Consensus,” in: Social Identity, Intergroup Conflict, and Conflict Reduction, ed. by R.D. Ashmore, L.J. Jussim, D. Wilder, Oxford Uni- versity Press, Oxford, 2001, pp. 71-100. 22 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

National identities and interests rest on two pillars, political purpose and international status.8 These pillars consist of sets of ideas, one referring primarily to the internal features and mission of a state and the other to its external position, rights, and obligations. Political purpose encompasses beliefs about the appropriate system of political and economic governance for one’s country and whether this system is also universally appropriate. Political purpose includes ideas about what values, principles, traits, and symbols characterize the country and what values and principles should govern relations between countries. It also involves ideas about what the country’s national mission is, if there is one. For instance the United States might have the political purpose of “promoting political and economic freedom at home and abroad.” The Russian Feder- ation might have the political purpose of “becoming a Western country” or “protecting all Slavs” or “restoring the Soviet Empire.” The second pillar on which national identity rests is international status. International status includes questions of ranking and of the positioning of one’s country in an imagined international hierarchy of political, military, social, and economic power. Such ranking involves evaluations of the material power possessed by oneself and all other parties. Status includes immaterial factors as well. For example, citizens of the United States often claim that their country is the “leader of the free world.” International status involves ideas about the proper position, respect, deference, rights, and obligations that one’s country should be accorded, based on the groups one believes it belongs to; not only the amount of material power it does or does not have, but also its purpose indicates whether a country is a status-seeker or a status-maintainer with regard to a particular issue or a group. A country that seeks to join the group of advanced industrial countries or the group of “civilized countries” is a status-seeker, whereas a state that recognizes itself as being an advanced industrial country or a civilized country is a status-maintainer.9 The collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991 inflicted great damage on the prevailing Soviet identity and produced for many a sense of loss. According to constructivism, this period of identity crisis should have motivated the Russian political elites to find new bases of collective self-esteem in ways that promote their particular values and yield multiple ideas of the post-Soviet national self-image.10 The post-Soviet period offers ample evidence of the Russian political elites’ search for a new basis for national self-esteem. The majority of Russians regretted the collapse of the Soviet Union and the independence of the Soviet republics from Soviet/Russian rule,11 setting them up to view their current position as one of loss and to aspire to regain what had been lost. Russia’s quest for a great power status has a long historical pedigree. Shared memories of Rus- sia’s past status as a great power—whether global, European, or Eurasian—created a core aspiration among most political elites to retain or regain that status. The U.S.S.R.’s status as a great power was not discredited. Almost all the political elites viewed Russia’s past status as a great power positively and as a core facet of the Russian identity.12 Post-Soviet Russian political elites were clearly split over what Russia’s national identity should be in the aftermath of the collapse of the Soviet Union. They evinced little agreement about Russia’s

8 See: J.G. Ruggie, “International Regimes, Transactions, and Change: Embedded Liberalism in the Postwar Economic Order,” International Organization, Vol. 36, No. 2, 1982, pp. 379-415. 9 See: A.L. Clunan, The Social Construction of Russia’s Resurgence, Aspirations, Identity, and Security Interests, The Johns Hopkins University Press, Baltimore, 2009. 10 See: Ibid, pp. 39-50. 11 See: P. Escobar, “Russia’s Liberal Empire,” available at: [Asia Times.com], 2005. 12 See: J.S. Kullberg, The End of New Thinking Elite Ideologies and the Future of Russian Foreign Policy, Mershon Center at Ohio State University, Columbus, 1993. 23 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS political purpose or sources of national self-esteem beyond the great power status. Russian political elites proposed a myriad of new types of social order for post-Soviet Russia. Many have characterized this split as a renewal of the nineteenth century debate in the Russian intelligentsia between the West- ernizers and the Slavophiles.

The Westernizers

The Westernizers were a group of intellectuals that followed a school of thought with a much longer tradition in Russian history. They emerged at the beginning of the 19th century as a reflection of the French Revolution and Napoleonic wars. It should not come as a surprise that many Russian army officers who were exposed to the West by the nature of their service during the Napoleonic wars admired liberalism and were followers of enlightenment and romanticism. The most visible political manifestation of Westernization was the Decembrists’ coup attempt in 1825. The philosophical origins of the Westernizers were in rationalism, the notion of modernization, and belief in progress. Their goal was to modernize Russia along the lines of other European state. Westernizers shared a belief in the need for radical social change and argued in favor of political ac- tivism. They demanded liberalism and secularism. Petr Chaadaev was one of the founding fathers of this school of thought.13 In terms of its thinking about political systems, Russia was perceived as a backward Eastern despotic state which should reject despotism and develop a parliamentarian political system with civil rights. While other schools—the Slavophiles and Eurasianists—glorified the past, the Westernizers neglected it as empirical. Between 1990 and 1993, multiple national self-images came into being. The first among them was the Western national self-image, liberal internationalism. When Russia appeared as an independent entity in 1991, the new political leadership led by Boris Yeltsin, Egor Gaidar, and Andrei Kozyrev resoundingly embraced a Western and liberal internationalist self-image for Russia. However, this national self-image was not the only one available to the political elites. The Liberal Westerners conception was the official political discourse from 1990 to 1992. This typology accepts the boundaries of Russia’s new political homeland and is based on the idea of promoting a civic nation and creating a united identity and commitment to Russia as a political community.14 The Western national self-image blames Russia’s negative status in the group of great powers on an internal failure; Russia’s lack of Western political and economic credentials and the destructive legacy of the Soviet militarized economy and its messianic mission. However, it shares with all the other self-images the belief that the West, particularly the United States, does not treat Russia in keeping with its status.15 For Westernizers, the aspiration is to more fully join the West and Europe, including its military alliances, and to be part of the club of Western market democracies. Russia’s great power status is dependent on its transformation into a stable, prosperous democracy.

13 See: N. Pirumova, V. Antonov, Russia and the West: 19th Century, Progress Publishers, Moscow, 1990. 14 See: G. Smith, The Post-Soviet States: Mapping the Politics of Transition, Oxford University Press Inc., New York, 1999. 15 See: G.W. Breslauer, Personalism versus Proceduralism: Boris Yeltsin and the Institutional Fragility of the Rus- sian System, ed. by V.E. Bonnell, G.W. Breslauer, Westview Press, 2000, pp. 35-58. 24 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 Slavophilism

Slavophilism developed during the nineteen century and represented the Russian theoretical response to Western liberalism.16 The philosophical foundation of Slavophilism was built as a reaction to the Western experiences. This school of thought consequently wanted to avoid the mistakes that the West made in its development, and not necessarily to reject everything Western; from that perspective they argued that Russia should pursue a different development path—a third way.17 Slavophiles argued that the West does not share the historical path that Russia is following. It was argued that Russian people “preferred the road of inner truth—the Christian moral organization of life within the framework of the peasant community—to the external truth—Western-type political and legal organization of society.”18 Precisely due to these differences Slavophiles did not see the world as one, but as divided. Therefore, Russia was not part of the West, but a counterpart to it. This positioning of Russia based on the older theological concept of Russia as the third Rome.19 In this concept, Russia was perceived as the only truly Christian state, the heir of Jerusalem, Rome, and Constantinople. The Slavophiles thought that this gap between Russia and the West existed due to different spiritual principles. They believe that Russia’s mission is to lead the Slavic or Eastern Slavic world in reviving and preserving its cultural autonomy vis-à-vis both the secular West and the non-Christian world. Therefore Russia’s role is that of a moral great power, a counterweight to the secular European great powers, and the leading power in the Eastern Slavic lands. Russia should also assume the role of protecting the Slavic brethren. The proper role and mission are found in the czarist past, when “Orthodox messianic” (Moscow is the Third Rome) was the spirit of the state system. This type of self-image views the post-Soviet lands outside of Russia where Russian-speakers predominate to be Russian territory, while the other self-images characterize the entire Near Abroad as Russia’s rightful sphere of influence.

Eurasianism

The theoretical framework examined in this study of Russia’s political culture and foreign policy grew out of opposition to the Westernizers and is known as the school of Eurasianism. This school of thought emerged in 1920. Although opposed to communism, they held out hope for the new Soviet regime, since it had reconstructed the Russian empire after the long civil war.20 Eurasians argued for the emergence of a Eurasian federation and for the adoption of dual identities. This school of thought has its philosophical origins in German idealism, although not in Kan- tian, since they were against cosmopolitanism, but specifically for Hegelian idealism, which advocates the concept of a governing state. Therefore statism is one of the main features of Eurasianism. This patrimonial authoritarianism spilled over into Russia’s foreign policy and Russia is only inter-

16 See: A History of Russian Philosophy: From the Tenth through the Twentieth Centuries, ed. by V. Kuvakin, Vol. 1, Prometheus Books, New York, 1994. 17 See: V.V. Zenkovski, Russian Thinkers and Europe, J.W. Edwards’ Publishers, Michigan, 1953, p. 48. 18 A History of Russian Philosophy: From the Tenth through the Twentieth Centuries, Vol. 1, p. 152. 19 It was with the marriage of Ivan III with Zoe Paleologus, the niece of the last emperor of Constantinople on 1 June, 1472 that Muscovy began to think of itself as the only true heir of Byzantium (see: M.B. Petrovich, The Emergence of Russian Panslavism 1856-1870, Columbia University Press, New York, 1956, p. 5). 20 See: J.H. Billington, Russia in Search of Itself, Woodrow Willson Center Press, Washington DC, 2004. 25 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS ested in participating in the international community if relations can be managed by the Russian government. The strong component of this school presented its critique of the West. The Eurasians were against a communist government in the U.S.S.R., but they were also against that the policy the West was pursuing. They argued that the West was only interested in subordinating and exploiting Russia. Therefore the West would not confront communism, but should help Russia become more like the West.21 According to the Eurasianists, Russia’s battle for world domination is not over. The essential prerequisite is that Russia should not think of itself as a regional power or as a nation state, but as a new Eurasian empire. The new empire would be fighting to lead a planetary and supranational system based on fundamental solidarity of the third world with that part of second world that rejects the program of the “rich north” and its globalizing processes.22 With respect to its responsibilities, Russia should be Eurasia’s regional policeman. Its lack of presence in the Near Abroad, specifically with respect to the growing hostilities in the Caucasian region, has created the existence of a potential threat to Russia’s own internal security. Above all, it was felt that Russia should intervene to ensure de-escalation of the conflicts that could imperil Russian interests or spill over into Russia proper. This included concern over the escalation of disputes in civil-war-torn Georgia, in particular the secessionist struggles in South Ossetia and Abkhazia. In keeping with this line, Moscow began talking about the need to deploy Russian troops in the Near Abroad for the purpose of peacekeeping.23 This school of thought tends to focus on military might, diplomatic skill, and cultural attractive- ness and contains a quasi-messianic national mission that goes beyond building state power. Most commonly, Russia’s Eurasian mission is to act as the bridge between East and West. All of these ideas are built upon a notion that is central to Eurasianism, which is Russia being a distinct culture, neither East nor West, with a stabilizing role as a bridge state between the two. In order to maintain this equilibrium, Russia must retain its derzhava or great power status. This, in turn, is directly impacted by re-integration with the Near Abroad, so Russia can reacquire its historical borders.24 This self-image is a blend of orthodox communist and Russian nationalist programs. Therefore history forms the primary baseline for Russia’s national identity and its national mission. Restoration of the former Russian and Soviet Empire is the core aspiration entailed in this self-image. According to this messianic national self-image, Russia’s borders should at a minimum be restored to those of the Soviet Union. The preferred methods of restoration are economic and political coercion. Unlike the neo-communist type, membership is ethnically ascribed and ethnic Russians are the natural and rightful leaders of Russia, while other nationalities should assimilate. The Russian leadership is very adamant that Russia was, is, and will remain a great power in world affairs. This great power status is achieved primarily in relation to the former Soviet republics; particularly those that are now members of the Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS). For Russia, the CIS is within Russia’s sphere of influence as close neighbors who share a very deep historical relationship.25

21 See: N.S. Trubetzkoy, The Legacy of Genghis Khan and Other Essays on Russia’s Identity, Slavic Publications, Michigan, 1991, p. 244. 22 See: A. Dugin, op. cit., pp. 80-85. 23 See: G. Smith, “The Masks of Proteus: Russia, Geopolitical Shift and the New Eurasianism,” pp. 65-75. 24 See: A.P. Tsygankov, “From International Institutionalism to Revolutionary Expansionism: The Foreign Policy Discourse of Contemporary Russia,” Mershon International Studies Review, Vol. 41, No. 2, 1997, pp. 247-268. 25 See: I. Oldberg, Great Power Ambitions under Putin, ed. by R.E. Kanet, Palagrave Macmillan, New York, 2007, pp. 13-30. 26 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

Russia’s foreign policy under Putin toward the Near Abroad proves that he was following the Eurasian idea. His pressure on the Caucasus and Central Asian countries to become more integrated and dependent on Russia, disagreement with the presence of the rest of the world in the region, especially the Western countries and NATO, and trying to use three-dimensional tools (economic, political, and military) to punish countries which have tried to be more independent of Russia, are all indicators of Putin’s Eurasian school of thought, which is combined with pragmatism.

From Yeltsin to Putin: A Shift in Russia’s Foreign Policy

In 1999, Yeltsin rapidly moved Putin up the ladder, from Director of the FSB to Secretary of the Security Council, to acting Prime Minister in August 1999 and, finally, to acting President when he resigned in December 1999. The young, vigorous, sober Putin, such a contrast to the aging, sick, and at times drunk Yeltsin, campaigned as a patriot and stabilizer, promising to restore Russians’ pride in their nation and military, to win the war in Chechnia, to enhance Russia’s place in the world, and to improve daily life by revitalizing the economy. To a population made poorer by the August 1998 economic collapse, frustrated by NATO’s expansion and the actions in Kosovo, and scared by terrorist bombings, Putin’s message was what they were looking for and he won his first term as President in March 2000. In their struggle to define Russia’s post-Soviet identity and interests, the Russian political elites shared the aspiration of retaining the historical great power status of czarist and then Soviet Russia. They never settled, however, on the key element of national identity—the question of Russia’s political purpose. This lack of agreement centered on a marked ambivalence about the extent to which one source of Russia’s national self-esteem—its historical status as a global great power—was commen- surable with a political purpose that entailed becoming more Western rather than maintaining a “unique- ly” Russian identity. As a result, what passed for Russian national identity in the 1990s and through the first Putin administration remained largely based on status-maintenance vis-à-vis the United States rather than a more rational assessment of Russia’s capabilities and opportunities in the post-Cold War world. During the first and crucial phase, 1991 to 1993, of the Russian political elites’ struggle to define their country’s new identity and set of national interests, the initially dominant Western national self-image—liberal internationalism—fell from grace, primarily because its prescription for Russia’s international role did not correspond to the great power aspirations that the majority of the Russian political elites accepted as historically legitimate. Even though most of the political elites remained positively inclined toward the West and favored markets and democracy, they rejected the second- class status and negative depiction of Russia’s historical distinctiveness implicit in the liberal internationalist self-image.26 From the perspective of most of the Russian political elites, the liberal internationalist Western- izers failed to pass history and this damaged the legitimacy of the Western national self-images and prevented them from dominating the political discourse long enough to become Russia’s national

26 See: A. Rahr, “Atlanticists versus Eurasians in Russian Foreign Policy,” RFE/RL Research Report, 29 May, 1992, pp. 17-22. 27 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS identity. Their perceived failures led to personnel and policy changes as well as to strengthened advocates of statism. Advocates of Eurasian statism gained increasing influence, especially with regard to foreign policy, but Westernizers, particularly democrats, remained vocal in the political discourse and influential in economic policy throughout the post-Soviet period. After 1998, clear signs of Russia’s policy failures highlighted the policy failures of the Westernizers and shifted the political discourse in favor of the Eurasian statists. The triple shock of Russia’s financial default in August 1998, Russia’s marginalization in the 1999 Kosovo war, and the 1999 incursion of Chechen rebels in Dagestan focused the elites’ attention on the correspondence between competing national self-images and current conditions. From 1999 to 2008, even before Putin moved to limit opposition after 2004, his national self- image of statist began dominating the political discourse and defining Russia’s national interests. Its dominance lay in its correlation with the elites’ aspirations and the perceived success Putin was able to achieve in carrying it out, success that owed much to the rising price of oil, the 1998 devaluation of the ruble, and the consequent swelling of government coffers and increase in domestic import substi- tution. Policy toward the former Soviet republics emerged as one of two key tests of the historical legitimacy of liberal internationalism, the other being policy toward the West. The Westernizers were criticized on all sides for being slow to realize that the former Soviet republics, as new entities of international relations, should be the top priority of the Russian Foreign Ministry, since they formed the historical basis for Russia’s status as a great power and its distinctiveness as a Eurasian, rather than Western or Eastern, power.

Putin and the Great Power Status

Recognizing the limits of available resources, Putin reduced the country’s unnecessary and costly presence around the world and concentrated on its immediate neighborhood. Perceiving itself as a regional superpower, Russia strived to stop degradation of its influence and rebuild its power position across the ex-Soviet periphery via economic, political and military instruments, since the Kremlin considered regional predominance to be vital for the maintenance of its great power status in the world. Therefore Putin closed the bases in Vietnam and Cuba and emphasized the vital importance of economic growth in consolidating and strengthening the Russian state as a great power. A system of “guided democracy” emerged in Russia. The state became the focal point of all the decision-making processes. The market economy was to develop under the supervision of the state. Large corporations were forced to subordinate themselves to national and state interests. There was to be no government takeover of the industrial and financial groups of the oligarchs, the state, however, attempted to replace the directors of the oligarchs’ corporations with loyal managers. In the energy sector, the state was also to secure the largest part of the profits from the export business. A kind of state-capitalism was emerging in Russia. Only in this manner did Putin think he could master the problem of corruption, develop social programs to protect the poor, secure long-term economic growth, and strengthen the country outwardly.27

27 See: A. Rahr, “Between Reform and Restoration: Putin on the Eve of His Second Term,” CIS-Barometer (Korber Department, Berlin), No. 35, February 2004, pp. 2-5, available at [www.dgap.org.]. 28 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

In contrast to Yeltsin, the Eurasian statists, including most prominently Vladimir Putin, sought with some success to put forward economic criteria as the basis for Russia’s comparison with the West. For a statist like Putin, the goal of global great power status required Russia’s integration into global economic and political institutions, but not its subordination to the West. The statists therefore advocated a national interest in cooperating with the West in order to join the global economy and maintain Russia’s great power status on that scale. Many observers considered that the post-9/11 cooperation between Russia and the U.S. in removing the Taliban regime from Afghanistan and Putin’s apparently Europe-first approach was a strategic option for Moscow that was meant to close a “black chapter” in relations with the West. In line with this stream of thought, President Putin’s policies in 2001 indicated that he wanted to reconstruct Russia’s identity and foreign policy.28 While unveiling Putin’s strong desire for inclusion in the international community and selective engagement with the West, this approach fails to capture the aspects of great power thinking which guided his strategy from the very beginning. In his “manifesto,” Putin mentioned Derzhavnost29 as one of the traditional values on which Russia’s revival in the 21st century should be based. Therefore, for Putin, Russia can be revived and successfully developed only as a great power recognized and respected in the world. With this in mind, integration and internationalization began playing a double role in Putin’s strategy. The “public diplomacy” tool was designed to prove Russian “normality” and defuse any suspicion of the international community with regard to the possibility of facing a resur- gent and very aggressive Russia; it was to facilitate Russia’s economic modernization and be used as a means to recover the ground the country had lost in some sectors of the world economy.30 Along with the already mentioned rhetoric of integration and particular course of internationalization, Putin vigorously pursued a strategy of power concentration. Russia’s main foreign policy preoccupation was preserving the statute of a freestanding actor in the international system and recognizing the CIS space as a sphere of its vital interests. Adopting this perspective, the post-9/11 cooperation with the U.S. was regarded rather as a tactical move in order to tackle security problems on its southern flank and gain more leverage across the entire CIS space than a long-term strategy to align with the West. Putin could not prevent U.S. military deployment in Cen- tral Asia, therefore it was easier to adopt a cooperative attitude rather than to oppose it. In this regard, some commentators expressed the opinion that Putin’s performance after the 11 September attacks was praised perhaps beyond merit, because it was the quickness of response rather than the quality of cooperative effort that made the difference. Putin, preoccupied with his country’s great power status, instantly saw a chance to increase international ratings by making a few symbolic gestures and did not spoil this chance by untimely bargaining.31 More than that, by assuming a cooperative attitude toward U.S. intervention in Afghanistan, Russia sought to position itself as a great power in the “global war on terror,” presumably by fighting inter-

28 See: I. Zevelev, “Russian and American National Identity, Foreign Policy, and Bilateral Relations,” International Politics, Vol. 39, No. 4, December 2002, pp. 447-465. 29 Great-Powerness, this means that Russia was and despite temporary difficulties will remain a great power. 30 This is a strategy very similar to the one promoted by minister of foreign affairs in czarist Russia Aleksandr Gor- chakov. In a report addressed to Alexander II, Gorchakov presented the main priorities of Russian foreign policy between 1856 and 1867; they included overcoming isolation, creating favorable conditions for internal reforms, and minimizing the risks of Russia’s involvement in wide-scale war operations. For more on the similarities between Gorchakov’s and Putin’s foreign policy approaches, see: F. Splidsboel-Hansen, “Past and Future Meet: Aleksandr Gorchakov and Russian Foreign Policy,” Europe-Asia Studies, Vol. 54, No. 3, May 2002, pp. 389-390. 31 See: P. Baev, “Putin Reconstitutes Russia’s Great Power Status,” PONARS Policy Memo, No. 318, November 2003, pp. 2-3. 29 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS national terrorism in the Northern Caucasus. From the Kremlin’s perspective, such a move was to provide international legitimacy and support for the so-called “anti-terrorist campaign” in Chechnia and the future Russian government’s tough responses to terrorist threats inside the country, as well as beyond its borders. In addition, the U.S. operation against the Taliban regime and terrorist networks opened a window of opportunity for Russia to diminish, if not totally neutralize, the threat of radical Islam spreading from Afghanistan to Central Asia and the Caucasus. By supplying the U.S. with information and the Northern Alliance with arms and other equipment, Russia contributed to the removal of a significant source of threats and in this way managed to improve the fragile security in its soft underbelly.

Russia’s Foreign Policy Toward Armenia and Azerbaijan

As noted above, Russia under Putin tried to regain its great power status as its national identity. To do this, Russia has to retain its influence within the former Soviet Union borders, especially in the Caucasus; in contrast, the top priority of the countries in the region is striving to retain their independence. These two types of national identity, independence and great power status, determine the type of relations between Russia and the three South Caucasian countries. Georgia seeks its independence by establishing close relations with the West and joining NATO, Armenia is trying to remain on Russia’s side because of its conflicts with Azerbaijan, and Azerbaijan is trying to balance between the West and Russia and is more or less inclined toward the West and Turkey. Russia’s self-perception has been influential in defining Russia’s foreign policy toward the Near Abroad. For centuries, Russia has considered its mission to be unification of a vast Eurasian land mass under the dominance of a unique Russian civilization. As a natural extension of this consideration, almost all Russians seem to have the visceral feeling that the Southern Caucasus is and ought to remain politically inseparable from Russia.32 Regarding these aims, Russia has tried to control the region by means of a three-dimensional tool comprised of the following components: economic—an energy; military—peacekeeping mandate; political—support of ex-Soviet leaders and maintenance of the status-quo. Intervening in the Near Abroad to ensure that conflicts do not spill over into Russia, peacekeeping troops are a particularly important tool used by the Russian Federation in neighboring countries that have active conflicts. The peacekeeping mandate also ensures that Russia is able to strategically promote its own interests and meddle in the affairs of sovereign states.33 Under Putin, Russia’s relations with the states in the region were strongly colored by “spillo- vers” of the Chechnia war and the emerging U.S. engagement and support of a Caucasus more independent of Russia. In October 2003, Putin said that “the transformation of the Caucasus region into an area of stability and economic cooperation is our most important common goal” and that “Russia is willing to continue acting as a peacekeeper in the settlement of conflicts in the Transcaucasus region together with its partners in the CIS.”34

32 See: D.E. Mark, “Eurasia Letter: Russia and the New Transcaucasus,” Foreign Policy, No. 105, Winter 1996-1997, pp. 144-145. 33 See: H.H. Almond, Peacekeeping: Russia’s Emerging Practice, A Return to Imperialism? ed. by U. Ra’anan, K. Martin, St. Martin’s Press, New York, 1995, pp. 33-65. 34 Y.E. Daniel, “Armenia, Azerbaijan Appear to Edge Closer to Karabakh Peace,” Eurasia Insight, 20 May 2005. 30 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

Overcoming an epoch of normative disarray, Russia under Putin adopted the role of an autonomous and self-asserted international actor struggling to rebuild its faded greatness. In these circumstances, the CIS space not only has enough substance, but also significant psychological value for the Russian ruling elite. The rebirth of the “CIS project” meant, from the normative point of view, the reproduction of Russia’s centuries-old great power identity and the desire to maintain strategic independence in relations with other power centers. In practical terms, the renewal of the CIS initiatives implied Russia’s pro-active engagement to maintain the highly challenged status-quo on its periphery. While fortifying its position, the Kremlin intended to keep its own backyard safe from “unauthor- ized” interference of outside powers in the CIS space. Suppressing the almighty oligarchs of the Yeltsin era and placing trustworthy people in large state or even private companies, Putin backed Russian business’s major takeovers of strategic sectors in the CIS space and often used state monopolies to punish disloyal leaders of the ex-Soviet republics. Rapid “militarization” of the power elites under Putin also influenced Russia’s military strategy in the CIS space. In response to the West’s major interference in Russia’s sphere of influence (the Color Rev- olutions, NATO expansion…), the administration resorted to one longstanding Russian diplomatic practice from Soviet foreign policy known as linkage. Linkage contends to compensate for weak- ness in one area by applying pressure in other areas where they have an advantage. For example, Russia saw Western support as a threat to Russian interests. Western arguments about democracy were seen as simple rationalization for engineering an intolerable geopolitical shift in its sphere of influence. Unable to respond in Ukraine, the Russians immediately responded with providing weapons assistance to Syria, which the U.S declared a state sponsor of terrorism and a looming threat to Israel.35

Nagorno-Karabakh Conflict, the Main Factor in Russia’s Relations with Azerbaijan and Armenia

Russia’s relations with Azerbaijan and Armenia have been strongly affected by the Nagorno- Karabakh conflict. Both Armenia and Azerbaijan are aware of Russia’s important role in this matter, which is of top priority for both countries because of their independent status after the demise of the Soviet Union; therefore each of them has tried to enlist Russia’s support on this issue. Russia’s foreign policy toward these countries is determined by its great power status and economic factors, especially energy transformation. Russia sees energy domination in the region as one of the most important factors for its re-emergence as a great power on the international arena. On the other hand, Azerbaijan has tried to use energy resources and transformation as a leverage for achiev- ing greater independence from Russia and drawing closer to the West. The Nagorno-Karabakh conflict has been one of the most persistent violent ethnic conflicts since the demise of the U.S.S.R. (of course an analysis of the reasons for this conflict is beyond the scope of this paper). In 1988, large demonstrations followed in Armenia after the U.S.S.R. refused to trans-

35 See: G. Friedman, “Moscow’s Missile Message,” New York Post, No. 27, 2005. 31 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS fer Nagorno-Karabakh to Armenia. Initially, Russia took the Azeri side but later switched its support to the Armenians. The Nationalist Popular Front of Azerbaijan was established as a response to the Armenian claims to have the Nagorno-Karabakh Autonomous Region transferred to Armenia. The Elchibey government gave prior importance to developing relations with Turkey. The government and the population in general tried hard to dissociate themselves from Russia and the Russian legacy. Un- derstandably, the policy of “Turkification” angered Russia and Iran, inducing them to seek rapprochement with each other and to improve bilateral relations with Armenia. This situation led to Russia’s support of Armenia. The Azerbaijani government rejected ratification of Azerbaijan joining the CIS. During this period, Azerbaijan’s relations with Russia were at their worst, for which Elchibey and his weak government had to pay a high price. The day after Elchibey refused to join the CIS Treaty on Col- lective Security, as a result of double attacks from Karabakh and Armenia, the so-called Lachin corridor was opened and the whole region outside the disputed region was occupied, which meant the unification of Karabakh with Armenia. Russia’s second response was its support of the coup the Elchibey government. Elchibey’s collapse was helped by the coup led by renegade military commander Surat Huseynov, which, according to many sources, received direct military support from Russia. Unlike his predecessor, Aliev considered establishing good relations with Russia, joining the CIS, satisfying Russia’s interests to be the only realistic means of coping with the situation. Shortly after coming to power, Aliev stopped all talks with foreign companies regarding the exploitation of Caspian oil (while assuring representatives of the companies that a contract would be signed soon and inviting Russian oil companies to take part in the consortium). As a result of the negotiations, Azerbaijan gave ten percent of its share in the consortium to the Russian oil company, LUKoil. The Parliament of Azerbaijan, with a vote of 30 against 13, ratified the country’s membership in the CIS on 20 September, 1993.36 Russia’s discontent over the nationalist government’s (Popular Front) and Azerbaijan’s close relations with Turkey and its anti-Russian discourse and policies encouraged Russia to support Arme- nia regarding the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict. The best known case of Russian covert military aid to Armenia concerns the transfer of missile and anti-aircraft systems, multiple rocket launchers, and ammunition worth a total of about $1 billion between 1992 and 1997.37 In addition, another reason behind Russia’s continuing rejection was Azerbaijan’s rejection of Russian military peacekeeping in Nagorno-Karabakh. Russia’s position toward the issue changed under the Putin. Early in 2000, Putin made several mediation attempts to move the issue forward (under the slogan “without victors or vanquished”)38 and promised that Russia would be the guarantor of a peace agreement, but in vain. Putin himself assured that Russia would not pressure either of the two conflicting parties.39 In January 2003, Putin stressed the importance of maintaining balanced relations with Armenia and Azerbaijan and looked for a solution to the Karabakh conflict “based on compromise and justice that will suit both countries.”40

36 See: N. Nassibli, Azerbaijan: Oil and Politics in the Country’s Future, Praeger, Westport and London, 1999, p. 106. 37 See: S.W. Itzkoff, “Russia as a Superpower,” The Journal of Social, Political and Economic Studies, Summer 2004, p. 218. 38 News Line, 10 January, 2001. 39 See: Putin’s press conference, 25 May, 2001. 40 News Line, 21 January, 2003. 32 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

In conclusion, Putin’s more neutral stand toward the conflicting parties (in comparison to the Yeltsin period) helped to defuse the conflict between Armenia and Azerbaijan over Nagorno-Kara- bakh. This new Russian stand—as a real mediator rather than a party to the conflict—could have been the result of the U.S.’s and EU’s growing interest in the Caucasus, as well as Russia’s realization that it had nothing to gain from the continued conflict. After all, Putin’s choice encompassed all of the Caucasus, not just parts of it.

Armenia

Since the fall of the U.S.S.R., Armenia and Russia have sealed a strategic pact within the framework of the Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO), the military arm of the Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS). This political, military, and economic alliance represents a strategic alliance in the Southern Caucasus. Russia counts on Armenia to maintain its influence in the region. Armenia sees Russia as an ally capable of ensuring its security in a hostile environment. Relations between Armenia and Russia are rooted in a history of rivalry between the Rus- sian and Ottoman empires. They are founded on a common vision of security issues aimed at thwarting the influence of Turkey in a key region of the Southern Caucasus. Christianity was something both Russia and Armenia had in common at that time, which opposed them to the Muslim Ottoman Empire. Armenia has been Russia’s main ally in the Caucasus since the breakup of the U.S.S.R. Throughout the 1990s, Russian-Armenian military relations were close. In 1997, Yeltsin signed a Treaty of Friend- ship, Cooperation and Security with “substantial military cooperative content.”41 In 2000, Armenia allowed Russian troops to stay in Armenia until 2025. When Vladimir Putin came to power, Russian-Armenian partnership was transformed into a strategic alliance within the Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO).42 Since 2000, in response to increased U.S. influence, Moscow has regarded Armenia as Russia’s outpost in the region.43 Armenia characterized Russia’s presence in Armenia as a “strong stabilizing factor.”44 Since 1996, Russia has also had a military base in Armenia (free of charge), which was further strengthened when the joint military unit was set up; a new Russian military base was also considered (as compensation for the Russian bases to be closed in Georgia). The main changes in relations under Putin occurred in the economic sphere. Armenia imports all of its gas and oil, mostly from Russia. Much of Armenia’s electricity and nuclear infrastructure was acquired by Russia’s RAO-UES to cover outstanding debts. Consequently, some changes have occurred in Russia’s relations with Armenia since Putin came to power, first in the “economization” of relations, as well as in increased military cooperation. During the 1990s, Russia, due to its unstable economy, tried to use the separatism in Transnis- tria (Moldova), the Crimea (Ukraine), Abkhazia and South Ossetia (Georgia), and Nagorno-Karabakh (Armenia-Azerbaijan) to preserve its influence over its former neighborhood. But under Putin, due to

41 J.L. Black, Vladimir Putin and the New World Order, Looking East, Looking West? Rowman & Little?eld Pub- lishers, Lanham, MD, 2004, pp. 228. 42 The CSTO is made up of Russia, Belarus, Armenia, Turkmenistan, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, and Tajikistan. 43 See: Press agency, 22 December, 2004, available at [panarmenia.net]. 44 S. Blagov, “Kocharian’s Moscow Visit Underscores Strengthening Armenian-Russian Security Cooperation,” Eurasia Insight, 21 January, 2003. 33 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

Russia’s economic recovery, Russia tried to use the economy as a lever more than the other factors. The high price of oil and gas and the Soviet Union’s legacy in energy sector (supply and transfer) in the region paved the way for Putin to do so. Not that the traditionally close relations themselves have deteriorated, but they have definitely changed in the economic sphere. At the same time, Russia’s closer relations with Azerbaijan did not seem to inflict damage on Russian-Armenian relations. Russia under Putin tried to use energy (oil and gas) as a lever for putting pressure on the Near Abroad countries to make them accept its domination. In this respect, energy did not belong to the economic sector for Russia, rather it used energy resources in particular as a political tool. Putin implemented an energy policy based on his vision of exerting heavier state control on the energy sector and limiting the role of the oil oligarchs, who he saw as having amassed both economic and political leverage during Yeltsin’s rule. Putin saw the exploitation of energy resources as a guarantee of social and economic stability in the country and its global position, a notion that stands in contrast to the Soviet approach, which emphasized military supremacy. This vision supported Russia’s view of itself as a great power.

Russia’s Foreign Policy Toward Georgia

In the post-communist era, the relations between Russia and Georgia were very tense and sensitive due to many factors. Georgia’s refusal to join the Russian-led Commonwealth of Inde- pendent States (CIS) and its demand for Russia to withdraw its military forces from Georgian territory were burning issues in bilateral relations in the initial years right after the disintegration of the Soviet Union. Russia, however, adamantly resisted such a withdrawal of the Russian forces from Georgia. Of course there are many factors that have made Russia and Georgia’s relations problematic, including Russia’s bases in the region and ethnic conflicts, but among them Georgia’s trying to gain more independence from Russia and its positive view of the West, especially its striving to join NATO, is the main factor complicating these relations. The recent crisis in relations between Moscow and Tbilisi originates in Georgia’s Rose Revolu- tion of late 2003, which brought President Saakashvili to power. His policy was aimed at bringing his country closer to the EU and NATO. He pledged to close Russian military bases in Georgia, and wants to make the most of Georgia’s position on the route of new pipelines taking gas and oil from the Cas- pian Sea region to the West. This would give Western companies a route that bypassed Russia. For Saakashvili, the models to follow were the Baltic states.45 From a strategic perspective, Georgia’s border with Turkey and its location on the Black Sea made the country very significant in Russia’s eyes. Russia has been more worried about Turkish than Iranian influence in the Caucasus and perceived Turkey as a threat to its dominant position in the political, economic, and military fields. Therefore, the Russian military bases controlling the Geor- gian-Turkish border were of vital concern to Moscow. As far as the Black Sea was concerned, Russia was in need of control over the Georgian coast- line. When Georgian officials managed to clinch a deal whereby Russian troops would withdraw from

45 See: M. Vashakmadze, “The EU and Russian Hegemony in Georgia,” in: An Enlarged Europe and its Neighbour- hood Policy, The Eastern Dimension, Latvian Institute of International Affairs, Riga, 2004, p. 17. 34 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 the Turkish border by 1994 and from Georgia totally by 1995, Russian Defense Minister General Pavel Grachev stated that this deal would lead to loss of Russian control over the Black Sea. Therefore every measure to ensure that Russian troops remain there should be taken.46 One area where Russia is able to interfere in Georgian affairs successfully is via the separatist regions of Abkhazia and South Ossetia. These conflicts are Russia’s key chip for meddling in Geor- gian affairs. Support of these areas has taken many forms, including political. For example, when South Ossetia held a referendum for independence, the Russian government passed a resolution acknowl- edging the results. Russian officials also attended the inauguration of the de-facto president of the region after internationally unrecognized elections were held in South Ossetia. Russia also granted Russian citizenship to people in both separatist regions.47 Abkhazia and South Ossetia broke away from Georgia in the early 1990s when the Abkhazian and Ossetian ethnic groups revolted against central Georgian rule, resulting in the mass expulsion of ethnic Georgians. Russia warned that it would defend the separatist territories if the Georgian government launched an assault to win back control.48 Saakashvili has re-established Tbilisi’s authority over one of the three problem regions—Ajar- ia, a Black Sea province bordering on Turkey. But South Ossetia and Abkhazia, located next to Rus- sia, have proven more difficult. Unlike the Ajarians, the Ossetians and the Abkhazians are ethnically different from Georgians. Both were involved in wars with Tbilisi in the early 1990s when they established de facto autonomy. Specific problems for Russia’s security played an important role in Russia’s involvement in Georgia’s conflict with South Ossetia. In the case of South Ossetia, the patterns of Russian involvement were more evident due to the numerous Russian interests in the conflict. The possibility that the conflict in South Ossetia could have serious repercussions in the Russian Republic of North Ossetia has alarmed Russian policymakers. The North Ossetian people were not happy with the political developments in South Ossetia; they were in favor of unification with South Ossetia. To this end, they were not only enthusiastic about becoming involved in the conflict militarily, but also about lobbying for Russia’s active involvement in the conflict in Moscow.49 Abkhazia, in particular, represents an area of strategic interest for Russia. Russia will continue to expand communications with Abkhazia; a more obvious and strategic reason for Abkhazia’s importance to Russia is the country’s location on the Black Sea coast. Russia only has one port with access to the Black Sea at Novorossiysk, and the future prospect of Ukraine joining NATO severely limit the options of the Russian Black Sea Fleet, because NATO members would surround the entire Black Sea. This would severely limit Russia’s naval capabilities.50 Besides being a peacekeeper in the region, Russia also economically supports the separatist regions. During the Soviet period, Abkhazia was famous for tourism and agriculture. After its split with Georgia, the economy completely collapsed, leaving Abkhazia wholly dependent on the Russian ruble, Russian economic aid, and the Russian market. In response to the increased U.S. political military engagement in the South Caucasian countries, Moscow, in line with the aforementioned pragmatist view, took some steps to prevent its posi-

46 See: S.E. Cornell, Small Nations and Great Powers: A Study of Ethnopolitical Conflict in the Caucasus, Curzon Press, Caucasus World, 2001, p. 345. 47 See: K. Jibladze, “Russia’s Opposition to Georgia’s Quest for NATO Membership,” China and Eurasia Forum Quarterly, Vol. 5, No. 1, 2007, p. 46. 48 See: A. Chepurin, “Seven Subjects on Russian-Georgian Agenda,” International Affairs, Vol. 50, Issue 3, 2004, p. 3. 49 See: E.A. Pain, “Contagious Ethnic Conflicts and Border Disputes along Russia’s Southern Flank,” in: Russia, The Caucasus, and Central Asia, ed. by R. Menon, Yu.E. Fedorov, G. Nodia, EastWest Institute, New York, 1999, pp. 185-186. 50 See: K. Bendelingi, “Two Dynamics of Georgia in NATO,” Inter Press News, 15 March, 2008. 35 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS tion from eroding in the region.51 Russia’s vast energy resources became an important tool for exerting Russia’s influence in the region under Putin. The Southern Caucasus has emerged as the proving ground for a new Kremlin strategy that seeks to utilize Russia’s abundant energy resources to increase its leverage over countries in the Southern Caucasus and Central Asia.52 Since Georgia is quite heavily dependent on bilateral economic relations with Russia, especially considering the negative trade balance and dependence on Russian natural gas exported by Russia’s state monopoly Gazprom, the first action this enterprise took was to increase gas prices, announcing in the fall of 2005 that the new gas price for Georgia would be raised from 63 dollars to 110 dollars for the same quantity (1,000 cu m) from 2006.53

Russian-Georgian Relations in Terms of NATO Expansion

The heightened tension between the U.S. and U.S.S.R. in the late 1940s prompted the establishment of NATO as a collective security organization to counter what was perceived as an impeding Soviet military threat to Europe. To consolidate their commitment to collective security, the U.S., Canada, and ten Western European states (Belgium, Denmark, France, Iceland, Italy, Luxembourg, the Netherlands, Norway, Portugal, and the United Kingdom) signed the North Atlantic Treaty in Washington DC on 4 April, 1949. In response to West Germany’s accession to NATO in 1955, the Eastern European countries, at the behest of Moscow, joined the Soviet Union in signing the Treaty on Friendship, Cooperation and Mutual Assistance, commonly known as the Warsaw Pact Treaty Organization. Throughout much of the Cold War, NATO and the Warsaw Pact remained entrenched on their respective sides of the so-called Iron Curtain, meticulously planning for a possible military confrontation. Fortunately, a militarized dispute never materialized. The end of the Cold War also saw the demise of the Warsaw Pact together with the U.S.S.R. NATO, however, managed to remain intact and began to construct a new role for itself in international relations.54 While NATO-Russian relations were formally launched in 1997, the need for cooperation between these two entities was discussed even before the final dissolution of the U.S.S.R. in December 1991. In one of his first major foreign policy statements, Russian President Boris Yeltsin pledged Russia’s participation in the North Atlantic Cooperation Council. Yeltsin even suggested that Russia might someday become a NATO member.55 In Yeltsin’s eyes, the fall of the Berlin wall spurred dramatic shifts in the European security architecture, and it was therefore important that Russia not be excluded from such developments. Yeltsin calculated that, no matter how difficult, Russia ultimately stood to gain a steady policy of cooperation

51 See: F. Douglas, “Russia’s Firm Hand on Heating Gas Worries Its Neighbors,” The New York Times, 8 January, 2001. 52 See: I. Torbakov, “Russia Seeks to Use Energy Abundance to Increase Political Leverage,” Eurasianet, 19 Novem- ber, 2003, available at [www.eurasianet.org]. 53 See: Ibidem. 54 See: F. Kaplan, “NATO in a Changing Europe, Searching for a Reason to Stay,” The Boston Globe, 7 July, 1990. 55 See: M.A. Smith, G. Timmins, “Russia, NATO and the EU in Era of Enlargement: Vulnerability or Opportunity?” Geopolitics, Vol. 6, Issue 1, Summer 2001, p. 73. 36 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 and engagement with NATO. In 1993, when Yeltsin accepted the first round of NATO enlargement (the Czech Republic and Poland), he faced fierce criticism, especially from the Russian parliament and military officers. We can trace early post-Cold War friction between NATO and Russia as far back as the reuni- fication of Germany. In 1990, the immediate question for Soviet policymakers was whether newly unified Germany would stay in NATO or not. During intensive diplomatic bargaining, Moscow is said to have accepted Germany’s membership in NATO in exchange for the promise of not deploying troops or nuclear weapons eastwards.56 Therefore, when NATO began contemplating possible expansion into Central Europe, Russia viewed this policy as NATO’s broken promise.57 Faced with mounting opposition from nationalists and communists in the Russian Duma, Yeltsin and his pro- Western Foreign Minister Andrey Kozyrev were pressured to pursue a more confrontational policy toward NATO. Instead of adapting to the new environment in Europe and the new definition of security and calculating their interests on the basis of material threats and capabilities, the Russian political elites defined Russia’s European security interests in terms of their historical aspirations to reclaim Rus- sia’s global status as a great power. As a result, European security, for the Russian political elites, was reduced to the effect NATO had on Russia’s standing as a great power. Russian security policy toward Europe (and globally) throughout the post-Soviet period was driven by this status. Russia’s identity and interests regarding Europe were formed in response to Russia’s own history. As with the general debate over Russia’s post-Soviet identity, two questions animated the political elite debate over Russia’s interests in European security: Was Russia Western? What was Rus- sia’s international role? Russia’s identity and interests regarding Europe were based on historical aspirations to maintain Russia’s past international status as a global great power and acceptance, albeit sometimes reluctant, that this status could only be achieved through inclusion in the West. Russian aspirations produced a desire to compete for social recognition in the West of Russia’s great power status; they also produced a nineteenth-century view in the Russian political elites of a global great power status regarding Russia’s position in Europe. The Russian elites interpreted Western behavior through this nineteenth-century lens, in which world politics was based on a great power concert. Russian policy on European security became reactive to perceive Western efforts to undermine Russia’s aspirations regarding its global status. Histor- ical aspirations disposed the Russian political elites toward favoring competition with the United States and NATO for recognition of Russia’s proper status. “Moscow’s view is that Russia’s entry into Western institutions should not be made at the expense of losing its major power status.” NATO should not therefore “attempt to put Russia (with its potential for considerable influence on world events) in the position of an ‘equal among equals’.”58 For Russians, NATO came to symbolize a threat to Russia’s identity as a global great power rather than as a genuine military threat, as it represented a challenge to the Russian elites’ perception of their special role in stabilizing European, and thereby global, security. This, in turn, implied that Russia no longer had the positive distinctiveness it had previously possessed, a huge blow to national self-esteem, as this was the single shared positive distinction the Russian elites took from their past. By increasing the role of the United States and reducing Russia’s role, the expansion of NATO’s membership and missions challenged the elites’ historical aspirations for a great power status on a par with the United States.

56 See: D. Averre, “NATO Expansion and Russian National Interests,” European Security, 7 March, 1998, pp. 10-54. 57 See: D. Polikanov, “NATO-Russia Relations: Present and Future,” Contemporary Security Policy, 25 December, 2004, pp. 479-497. 58 S.V. Chasnikov, “Sifting through the Relics of Confrontation,” Comparative Strategy, No. 14, 1995, pp. 91-93. 37 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

The Kosovo conflict had the basic role of formulating Russia’s perception of NATO. As Dmitri Trenin wrote in 1998, “the Kosovo conflict is not primarily about the Serbs and Albanians, but about the U.S. role in the world.59 This nineteenth-century interpretation of Kosovo reinforced the view that the Russians and Europeans perceived European security crises, such as Kosovo, in radically different terms. As Max Jakobson, former Finnish ambassador to the United Nations, wrote in 1999, the Kosovo conflict revealed a fundamental gap between Western and Russian perceptions of the evolution of international relations. The concept of humanitarian intervention was alien to Russian thinking. It was dismissed by Russian politicians and generals as a disguise for America’s geopolitical ambitions... The primacy of human rights in Western policy is a function of the profound integration that has taken place between open societies. Russia has not yet been transformed by that process.60 NATO and Western involvement in the former Soviet republics was the most serious crisis in Russian relations with the West that arose over Western assistance to the democratic forces in the former Soviet republics in 2003 and 2004 during the Color Revolutions. In Moscow, this assistance was viewed not as assistance to democratization, but as an effort to undercut Russia’s position as the leading power in its own backyard and reduce Russia’s global status still further. The reactive nature of Russia’s status-driven foreign policy prompted the Westernizers and moderate statists to denounce the appearance of such anti-Western rhetoric under Putin. The Western- izers sharply criticized the Putin administration, as well as conservatives and hardliners, in 2003 and 2004 for risking Russia’s relations with the United States and the West over the Orange Revolution in Ukraine.61 Georgia’s desire to join NATO is viewed with suspicion by Moscow, which sees NATO expansion into former Soviet territory, and onto Russia’s borders, as antagonistic policies inherited from the Cold War which ultimately serve to threaten Russian security, especially Russia’s great power status, and its regional and international role. For Russia, it is difficult to simply disengage from territories which were historically part of Russia and then part of the Soviet Union, particularly when these territories are defecting to the West. Russia believes that NATO expansion is not about increasing security. Rather, Moscow views NATO expansion as a means to exclude Russia from the international and European arenas. NATO is seen as a means to limit Russia’s influence in the region and to curb Russia’s rise as a regional and international power. NATO expansion is also humiliating for Russia because it denies Russia space to act in the changing European security context. Another important aspect is that Russia views NATO expansion as reneging upon the promise NATO General Secretary Woerner made in 1990 when he stated that NATO would not expand beyond Germany. When Georgia entered into the Intensified Dialog (ID) stage with NATO, Russia quickly reacted by imposing economic and diplomatic sanctions on Georgia. This included banning Georgian wine and mineral water, which constituted the major Georgian exports to Russia. Russia stopped issuing visas for Georgian migrant workers in an attempt to economically punish the country. Many ethnic Georgians were also deported from Russia.62 Georgia was also wary of Russia’s role as peacekeeper in the separatist regions, which Russia will not allow to be internationalized. Under the CIS mandate, Russian peacekeepers are the only troops

59 See: D. Trenin, Russia’s Security Relations with the West after Kosovo and Chechnya, Paris, 2000. 60 See: M. Jakobson, “Russia Heads Off Toward a Solution of Its Own,” International Herald Tribune, 12 Novem- ber, 1999, p. 10. 61 See: G. Golan, “Russia and the Iraq War: Was Putin’s Policy a Failure?” Communist and Post-Communist Stud- ies, Vol. 37, Issue 4, 2004, pp. 429-459. 62 See: K. Jibladze, op. cit., pp. 35-51. 38 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 who are actively involved in the mission in Abkhazia, while South Ossetia is monitored by Georgian, Ossetian, and Russian peacekeepers. Russia’s military presence in the regions allows the separatists to refuse to negotiate a political settlement with Georgia.63 Besides this growing dependency, it has become clear that the energy instrument is an essential part of Russia’s external security policy. This was further evident after it used this to force Ukraine to pay a higher gas price at the end of 2005. The geopolitical importance of the Southern Caucasus is based on the presence of energy resources. Stability in the Caucasus is a vital requirement for the uninterrupted transport of Caspian oil and gas. The Caspian Sea region (the Southern Caucasus and Central Asia) has about 3-4 percent of the world’s oil reserves and 4-6 percent of the world’s gas reserves. In itself, the Caucasian share of global oil and gas reserves is not considerable. However, in light of the uncertainty over the reliability of Persian Gulf supplies, as well as the possibility that Russia may use energy delivery as a power tool, the transportation of Caspian and Central Asian (Kazakhstan and Turkmenistan) energy supplies to the West via the Caucasus has gained vital importance.64 The importance of the region has also grown as a result of the energy policies of consumer states in the West that want to decrease their dependence on resources from Russia and the Middle East. A number of states and organizations are making efforts to end Russia’s near monopoly on the transportation of energy supplies in the Eurasian region by creating alternative pipeline routes to transport these supplies.65 Thus, the Atasu-Alashankou (China and Kazakhstan) and Baku-Tbilisi-Ceyhan (BTC) oil pipelines, and the Baku-Tbilisi-Erzurum (BTE) (Georgia, Azerbaijan, Turkey, and Kazakhstan) and Nabucco gas pipelines (European Union, Turkey, Bulgaria, Rumania, Hungary, and Austria) are operating, under construction, or planned.

Conclusion

Russian foreign policy in the late 1990s was built on fake history and mythical poetic represen- tations of traditional alliances. Foreign policy in this period was imbued not so much with an “essential ambiguity” as with a fatal dualism and appeared to operate at two levels: what Russia really wanted and what it was forced to do. After Putin came to power, Russia’s national identity discourse shifted to Eurasianism. Accord- ing to the Eurasianists, Russia is, was, and always will be a Great Power. In order to secure this status at the international level, Russia is seeking to establish an informal empire and dominate over countries that were once part of both Imperial Russia and the Soviet Union, but are now deemed independent by the international community. The integration of Eurasia into the Euro-Atlantic community is unacceptable and Russia will ensure that this does not happen. Russia’s location on the cusp of three distinct civilizations, Russia’s own uncertainty about where exactly the country fits, and being sur- rounded by weak countries which could not prevent Russia’s expansion for centuries have been important elements of Russia’s self-definition as an unquestionable Great Power. Russia’s foreign policy under Putin is best encapsulated by Eurasianism, which is driven by geopolitical considerations. This concept encompasses key assumptions about Russia as a civilization

63 See: V. Socor, “The Frozen Conflicts: A Challenge to Euro-Atlantic Interests,” Jamestown Foundation, 2004, available at [www.gamestown.org]. 64 See: A. Stulberg, “Moving Beyond the Great Game: The Geo-economics of Russian Influence in the Caspian Energy Bonanza,” Geopolitics, No. 10, 2005. 65 See: Ibid., p. 25. 39 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS that is unique because of its position between Europe and Asia. As such, Russia is a Eurasian power, the strategic goal of which is to stabilize the heartland and act as a buffer between the East and the West. Within this assumption is the belief that Russia has the rightful hegemony in the region, and the country is pursuing policies to this effect. Therefore, the idea of Russia’s great power status is intrin- sically tied to restoring Russia’s influence in the Near Abroad. Putin was a pragmatic Eurasianist who tried to reassert Russia’s great power status, particularly through economic development. To do this Russia needed to have cooperation with the West- ern countries, particularly the U.S. The focus of Russia’s foreign policy was post-imperial state- building. Like in all post-imperial states, however, relations with former partners and subordinates are uneasy. Putin’s new Foreign Policy Concept, replacing Yeltsin’s document that some consider to be imbued with excessive idealism, stressed that Russia’s policy should be rational and realistic and designed to serve Russian economic and political interests; and Russia should pay special attention to its Near Abroad. The emphasis in relations with the CIS shifted from multilateralism to bilateralism, a change that Putin adhered to throughout his leadership, while the need to protect Russian ethnic minorities in the former Soviet states was regarded as a tool for Russia to preserve its influence and its presence in the region. The great strategic problem facing Russia was the challenge of foreign policy diversification by its former fraternal Soviet states. Some of them, like Georgia, are driven by an intense desire to sever the connection between themselves and Russia. Therefore, it became apparent that the CIS had failed to become the great counter-European institution that some in Moscow had anticipated, but it was far less clear what would take its place. Fear of Russian domination from the very beginning prompted countries like Ukraine to impede the institutional and political development of the CIS, while all (with the exception of Bela- rus) actively diversified links away from Russia toward the West and regional powers. In security affairs, NATO membership became the open aspiration of countries such as Georgia, Ukraine, and Azerbaijan. Russia’s reaction to NATO expansion can be explained by the indirect security threat this poses to Russia. Russia’s conquest of the Northern Caucasus (its sovereignty borders) depended on Russia controlling the Southern Caucasus. When the Soviet Union collapsed, a similar pattern emerged; before attempting to subdue the Chechen separatists, Russia first secured its position in Georgia. During his presidency, Putin tried to convince the rest of the world that the Near Abroad is still Russia’s sphere of influence and that they should recognize it. Pursuing this goal as a fundamental aim of its foreign policy, Russia has tried to use three-dimensional tools: economic (as an energy supplier), political (support the Soviet elites in the Central Asia and Caucasus countries), and military presence (as peacekeeper) to keep these countries under its influence. It seems that Putin was successful about Russia’s foreign policy goals.

40 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 U.S. CENTRAL ASIAN POLICY UNDER PRESIDENT BARACK OBAMA

Murat LAUMULIN D.Sc. (Political Science), Chief Fellow at the Kazakhstan Institute of Strategic Studies (Almaty, Kazakhstan)

Introduction

here can be no doubt that during the eight- This means that the foreign policy strategy of the een months it has been in power, the Obama present-day American Democrats hinges on the T Administration has in due course defined the geopolitical situation in Central Asia, while also main vectors and priorities of U.S. foreign poli- keeping in mind Russia’s interests. cy, determined the country’s key geopolitical in- The current U.S. administration is keeping terests, drawn up and adopted a National Securi- a close strategic eye on the Central Asian region, ty Strategy, and compiled a Nuclear Policy Re- particularly after the events in Kyrgyzstan. This view. is posing both new threats and new opportunities The following factors are having an impact for the CA countries in the context of reinforcing on U.S. policy in the post-Soviet expanse, which the geopolitical balance in the region. includes Central Asia (CA): relations with Rus- A decision was adopted recently to reduce sia, the PRC, the Islamic Republic of Iran (IRI), the level of the U.S.’s military presence in Af- Turkey, Pakistan, and India; the military opera- ghanistan with subsequent withdrawal from this tion in Afghanistan; NATO’s enlargement; the country (presumably between 2011 and 2014). If energy factor; the coordination strategy between this happens, the security situation in CA, Afghan- the West and the European Union (EU); and the istan, and Pakistan could drastically change for the problem of radical Islam. worse. Since the beginning of his presidency, Barack It appears that the U.S. is no longer making Obama has designated intensification of the U.S.’s democratization the fundamental principle of its influence in the Asia Pacific Region (APR) and foreign policy. The Obama Administration real- further development of relations with China as the izes that establishing democracy does not boil priority vectors of his foreign policy. down to perfunctorily introducing election proce- In order to help the American economy re- dures into a country, but depends on the conditions cover from its severe crisis, the U.S. tried to cre- within the country itself being ripe for such chang- ate a geopolitical alliance with the PRC (a duum- es and on creating a socioeconomic and political virate of world administration), but Beijing reject- infrastructure, which requires many years of ef- ed this proposal. fort. The U.S. intends to make use of “intelligent” Another main issue (apart from recovery power (which presumes a combination of “hard” from the crisis) for the Obama Administration is and “soft” power). Today preference is being giv- bringing the war on so-called international terror- en not to combat action, but to political and eco- ism (meaning the military operation in Afghani- nomic methods, as well as to diplomacy and cul- stan in particular) to its successful conclusion. tural ties.

41 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

On the whole, experts characterize the for- lack of experience in international affairs and, eign policy of the Obama Administration as con- more importantly, the very unfavorable situation tradictory and inconsistent. The main reasons for in the U.S. with respect to the national and global this, in their opinion, are the current president’s economy.

Principles, Methods, and Tasks of Barack Obama’s Central Asian Policy

According to the Central Asian policymakers in the Obama Administration, the U.S. must overcome the internal structural contradiction in its policy in the new circumstances, as well as resolve three vitally important problems: 1. Mistrust of the CA states regarding the U.S.’s efforts to establish democracy in the region’s republics. Before launching its Central Asian policy, the White House, in order to improve its image, would do well to strengthen its contacts with the governments of the region’s countries. 2. Russia’s opposition, which does not suit U.S. policy. 3. The situation in Afghanistan. On the whole, American experts are very skeptical about the prospects for implementing the Greater Central Asia (GCA) concept Barack Obama inherited from the George Bush Administra- tion. Washington has determined the objectives and tasks that form the foundation of GCA for the mid and long term. So, although implementation of the project is encountering all kinds of problems, this does not mean that this vital geopolitical matter should be removed from the agenda. Today, the U.S.’s interests in the region go beyond the framework of GCA, and in the foresee- able future they will be implemented on the basis of existing projects and bilateral agreements with the CA states. On the whole, the GCA project is only part of Washington’s strategic plans aimed at transforming the whole of Eurasia into an extensive U.S.-controlled geo-economic expanse that includes the Caspian region, CA, the Middle East, and South Asia (SA). So, in theory, a “sanitary cordon” could be created along Russia’s and China’s borders. This scenario would enlarge the geopolitical field of the region’s rivals, which fully meets the White House’s interests. The main adjustments in U.S. policy amount to restoring several posts and subdivisions in the administration and creating an SA and CA department, strengthening Afghanistan’s role in integration of the Asian countries and formation of GCA, using the North-South transportation corridor to diversify export of energy resources from CA, applying different strategic approaches, and turning Kazakhstan into a regional leader and so-called corridor of reform. In addition, there are also plans to focus greater attention on the role of education and nongovernmental organizations in promoting democracy in CA (this process is still arousing a certain amount of concern in the region). The U.S. is adjusting its Central Asian policy in light of the mistakes made by the former White House administration. American experts point to three serious mistakes of the U.S.’s CA policy in the past:

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1. When resolving various problems of the region’s states, the U.S. did not even attempt to coordinate the positions of different government departments. 2. The specifics of the CA countries and people, as well as of the region as a whole were not taken into account. 3. The U.S. did not coordinate its actions with the activity of other external actors. After the Democrats headed by Barack Obama came to power, it was expected that Washington would begin actively revising its strategy in CA and, in particular, reject the GCA concept. In order to continue the war and equip the American contingent in Afghanistan, Washington needs a reliable route through the territory of the CIS countries (including the CA states), otherwise the transit of cargo will be impossible from the security point of view (due to the political instability in Paki- stan and aggravation of its relations with India). So we are talking about further enlargement of the American military presence in the Central Asian countries, which, it is hoped, will play a vitally important role in supporting the U.S.’s military operation in Afghanistan. The U.S.’s plans for Afghanistan have led several CA countries to hope for a significant increase in American aid and investments. But they were also worried that Washington would use the antiterrorist operation to provide a more permanent base for its military contingents in the region (a similar situation existed in 2001-2002). Another vector of American policy in need of adjustment in the region is the U.S.’s attitude toward the Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO). The White House believes that this organization is controlled by Russia and establishing relations with it will mean recognizing the CSTO as a legitimate member of the international community. So Washington needs to maintain at least minimum contact with the Russian Federation and PRC regarding the most important problems arising in the CA countries, since this will help to promote the development of relations with the region’s countries, as well as eliminate the possibility of criticism from Moscow and Beijing about the U.S. exclusively pursuing its own interests. It stands to reason that Barack Obama’s policy in the Central Asian region should correct the mistakes of the White House’s former administration. First of all, there must be stronger coordination among the U.S.’s various government departments (the State Department and Pentagon in particular). On the whole, however, the Obama Administration has inherited sufficiently powerful levers from its predecessors that ensure its strong and regular impact on the CA countries from the position of so-called soft power. This implies the many different funds and their branches, information and cultural centers, American “corners” and councils, and so on that have appeared in the region. There are 22 of them in Kazakhstan, 15 in Kyrgyzstan, 9 in Tajikistan, 5 in Turkmenistan, and 1 in Uzbekistan (not to mention the programs broadcast by Voice of America in Uzbek). But as it transpired, the Obama Administration does not have a clear conception of its policy in CA. U.S. interests in the region are primarily related to ensuring the transit of military cargo for the U.S. and NATO coalition troops in Afghanistan. Barack Obama’s attention was drawn once more to the Central Asian region when the turmoil broke out in Kyrgyzstan in April 2010. The White House assumed a position that implied that such countries as Russia (the CSTO leader) and Kazakhstan (chairman of the OSCE) should take responsibility for stability in this republic (and in the region as a whole). The new landlord of the White House is still placing top priority on strengthening cooperation between the U.S. (along with the EU) and the CA states in the energy industry. The stakes are being placed on further Americanization of the Caspian and on reorienting the flows of Caspian oil and gas resources toward Europe. The U.S. and its partners in the EU will continue to exert efforts to ensure

43 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS that the main oil and gas pipelines link the Central Asian region and the European markets without passing through Russia. The global financial crisis and drop in world energy prices could lead to the curtailment of several energy projects lobbied by Washington in the Caspian. Despite this, however, the Central Asian region will remain an arena for playing out the intense competitive struggle between the U.S. and Russia.

The U.S. and Kazakhstan

At present, the U.S. is developing contacts most successfully with Kazakhstan (largely because the republic is the chairman of the OSCE). The U.S. regards Kazakhstan as an ambitious, influential, and predictable political player (in contrast to some of the other CA countries) not only in the Central Asian region, but also throughout the post-Soviet expanse. On the basis of the industrial-innovative strategy being implemented in the republic, U.S. investment companies and banks that regard Kazakhstan as a promising developing market have stepped up their activity. Washington also thinks that Kazakhstan’s membership in the Customs Union should not prevent its possible future membership in the WTO. At present, American agroindustrial companies and enterprises engaged in the delivery of med- ical equipment and educational institutions that would like to invest in projects being implemented in the republic are actively developing cooperation with Kazakhstan. But it should be presumed that the current share of funds going into the oil industry and that being allotted to other branches of Kazakh- stan’s economy will not change; oil, gas, and affiliated transport routes will continue to account, as before, for 65% of American investments. During the years bilateral economic relations have been developing (since 1993), the U.S. has invested $14.3 billion in the Kazakhstan economy (mainly in the oil and gas industry and affiliated services). But at present, export from the U.S. to Kazakhstan has fallen to the 2005 level; in 2009 it amounted to $600 million, although there was a time when it reached $1 billion. Equipment for the oil industry accounts for 40% of this sum, transport technology for 25%, and computers, telecommunications, electronics, and the chemical industry for the rest. American analysts regard Kazakhstan as the most influential state in the region, but its territory (the largest among the CA countries) is too extensive for the small population to control. Moreover, Kazakhstan borders on Russia and depends on it for oil and natural gas transit to the West. Perhaps over time, when the infrastructure projects begin working, the situation will change. On the eve of the Russian-Georgian war, Kazakhstan tried to find export alternatives for its rich energy resources, including pipelines via the Caspian Sea and to China. However, the construction of these routes is not complete, and this means that any agreements between Kazakhstan and the U.S. must be approved by Russia. As American analysts believe, the republic will not take the risk and act on its own. When the U.S. and NATO leadership succeeded in coming to terms with essentially all the main states that border on Afghanistan about the transit of non-military cargo for the coalition forces mission, the question was raised of inviting new countries and military contingents to participate in this operation. Kazakhstan’s candidacy was examined as early as the beginning of 2008 (during the term of the George Bush administration), before the decision to enlarge the coalition military operation in Afghanistan had been made. American representatives regularly used diplomatic channels to explore the possibility of Ka- zakhstan’s participation in such an operation, highly evaluating the part the republic’s servicemen played

44 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 in the Iraqi mission. It was tentatively suggested that similar cooperation might also be pursued in Afghanistan. This cooperation implied recruiting Kazakh servicemen as staff officers, army medics, and field engineers for training Afghans to demine their own territory (just as the Kazakh servicemen had done in Iraq). This makes us wonder why Astana in particular was offered this opportunity. NATO correctly presumed that the armed forces of other CA states would not be able to interact efficiently with NATO structures in Afghanistan, since not one of them, apart from Kazakhstan, has had experience with working jointly with the alliance. In addition, it is Kazakhstan of all the region’s countries that is carrying out an active pro-Western policy. Astana is participating much more actively in NATO’s Partnership for Peace program than its closest regional neighbors. Some Russian experts think that the possible participation of Kazakhstan’s armed forces in the Afghan operation is a prerequisite for closer cooperation between this country and NATO. By conducting an independent military policy, Astana is considered to be departing from its pro-Rus- sian course. The question of an independent state participating in military operations lies entirely within the competence of its parliament and president; there is nothing extraordinary in the possibility of sending Kazakh servicemen to Afghanistan (particularly since the presence of the coalition forces there is legalized by U.N. mandate). Moreover, this development of events would make Kazakh diplomacy even more multivectoral. Nevertheless, Russia and the CSTO structures might react very negatively to Kazakhstan’s participation in the Afghan operation being implemented under NATO’s leadership. It is very likely that by following its foreign political interests to strengthen cooperation with the West and raise its international prestige, Kazakhstan will join the operation in Afghanistan. But the possible negative consequences of such a step must also be kept in mind: loss of personnel, the Af- ghan population’s displeasure at the direct presence of Kazakh servicemen in the country’s territory, and a negative public opinion being formed with respect to Astana’s military policy. So Kazakhstan signing an agreement on transit to Afghanistan will raise Moscow’s role. This also applies to the CA countries. By activating its policy with respect to Afghanistan, Kazakhstan should be ready for changes in Russia’s position. There is no doubt that relations with the U.S. traditionally occupy an important place among Kazakhstan’s foreign policy priorities. Despite all the changes in the world balance of forces, Amer- ica will long remain the most powerful global power. The U.S.’s active policy in energy security directly affects the interests of CA and the Caspian region. Washington is insistently pushing through the idea of diversifying export routes and opposing the appearance of monopolies in this sphere. Further development of the CA countries, including Kazakhstan, greatly depends on how the problem of Iran’s nuclear program is resolved. Astana recognizes Tehran’s right to the peaceful atom and is in favor of a diplomatic solution to all problems. In this respect, the Obama Administration was quite positive about the idea of creating a nuclear fuel bank in Kazakhstan. The U.S. is also an important partner of Kazakhstan in the investment sphere (the total amount of American investments in the republic’s economy, as well as in the fuel and energy complex and high technology has already topped $15 billion). In this respect, the Kazakh-American initiative on state-private partnership could play an important role. Kazakhstan, as the U.S.’s key partner in Central Asia, should continue to maintain friendly and constructive relations with Washington, developing a strategic dialog with respect to all the main vectors of cooperation (political, economic, and military), as well as regarding security and the development of democracy.

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On the whole, Kazakhstan is a predictable and understandable partner for Washington, cooperation with which can be characterized as an important and key link in U.S. foreign policy on the Cen- tral Asian region. A confidential and constructive dialog has long been established between the two states. At present, Kazakhstan’s main goal is to ensure the U.S.’s participation in the OSCE summit to be held in December 2010, which will make it possible to promote Kazakh-American relations to a new level.

The U.S. and Kyrgyzstan

The Kyrgyz authorities’ decision to close the American airbase at Manas came as a surprise to the Obama Administration. Washington regarded this airbase as a key transit point through which additional contingents of troops could be sent to Afghanistan. Moreover, Manas was to be used to compensate for the decrease in shipments via the Pakistani route. The U.S. expert community was the first to react to the situation that developed around the Manas base, seeing Moscow’s hand in Bishkek’s actions. This conclusion was drawn on the basis of the fact that Kurmanbek Bakiev’s statement on closing the base came at the same time as Kyrgyzstan entered an unprecedented agreement on Russian financial and economic aid to the republic. Head of the Pentagon Robert Gates was more reticent about this. He noted in particular that Russia was trying to take advantage of everything associated with closing the American airbase in Kyrgyzstan, the base being of immense importance for sending troops and cargo to Afghanistan, particularly since there are plans to double the U.S. military presence in this country next year. In the context of the Great Game, the decision to close the Manas base was not at all accidental. In the context of the rivalry between the U.S. and Russia in the post-Soviet expanse and other regions of Eurasia, measures to curtail America’s permanent presence in Kyrgyzstan are quite logical; they reveal the depth of the contradictions between the sides that were manifested with particular clarity during George Bush’s second presidential term. As we know, at that time, Kyrgyz President Kurmanbek Bakiev confirmed that Bishkek was willing to discuss with Washington ways to further use the Manas airbase, for example, for transport- ing non-military freight for the needs of the antiterrorist coalition in Afghanistan. In principle, this decision suited both the new U.S. administration (since it made it possible for it to “save face” and not look like the losing side) and Russia, which, in the final analysis, is not interested in undermining the position of the Western coalition in Afghanistan. And finally, the version proposed by Kurmanbek Bakiev was also very acceptable for Kyrgyzstan itself; it means that the republic was maintaining its relations with the U.S. and not losing money by foregoing the base in Manas. China has also been showing an interest in this kind of compromise, which, keeping in mind the vulnerability of the U.S.’s position in CA, could put a certain amount of pressure on it. The question of opening a U.S. military facility in the republic was considered even before the events in April 2010 that led to the overthrow of President Bakiev. A center for training Kyrgyz special forces costing $5.5 million was to be established in the Batken Region. The American side had previously allotted several million dollars to build similar training centers. In May 2010, U.S. Deputy Assistant Secretary for South and Central Asian Affairs George Krol visited the region. He held consultations in which representatives of the new Kyrgyz leadership and Russian officials participated. This visit demonstrated Washington’s visible concern about the development of the situation in Kyrgyzstan, since it threatened U.S. interests in the region.

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The U.S. intends to cooperate with international organizations—the U.N., OSCE, IMF, and World Bank—with respect to rendering economic aid to Bishkek. At the same time, the U.S. is continuing to implement programs that were launched before the revolution; they are aimed at supporting the development of democracy, the economy, as well as the free and independent media. Moreover, the U.S. rendered technical support to holding the referendum and latest elections, including via American nongovernmental organizations. It is worth noting that in June of 2010 the Pentagon temporarily stopped its refueling planes, which support the military operation in Afghanistan, from filling up at the Manas airport. At that time, NATO Special Representative for Central Asia and the Caucasus Robert Simmons also visited the country. It appears that the American command is concerned about the development of the situation in Kyrgyzstan and does not exclude the possibility of closing the Transit Center at Manas.

The U.S. and Uzbekistan

A slightly different situation is developing in relations between the U.S. and Uzbekistan, which is still theoretically an important link in the entire Central Asian security system. Despite the fact that Uzbekistan’s officials have been making loud statements about the joint fight against international terrorism and assistance to the coalition forces in carrying out the operation in Afghanistan, Washing- ton has long lost confidence in Tashkent’s policy. Washington regards Uzbekistan as the central and most significant player in the region. This state has regional hegemonic ambitions and has more opportunity than other states to stand up to Moscow. There are large Uzbek diasporas in all the neighboring states, which makes it possible for Tashkent to intervene in their policy. In contrast to other post-Soviet states of the region (apart from Kazakhstan), Uzbekistan is self-sufficient in terms of food and energy. Uzbekistan is the most important potential partner for the U.S.; in contrast to Kazakhstan, it borders not on Russia, but on Afghanistan, with which it has road and railway connections. There is also a Soviet military base in the republic, which the Americans have already used. The events of recent months have shown that, despite the Russian-Georgian war, Uzbekistan is not worried about Russia making any abrupt moves. American analysts are taking particular note of this fact. At present, Uzbekistan is potentially growing in importance for the U.S. It provides the shortest and most reliable routes for shipping cargo. But here too the U.S. is showing a certain amount of caution, not convinced that the Uzbek side will act as predicted in any given situation. In principle, the Uzbek and U.S. presidents have still not managed to establish a stable and reliable dialog and personal contacts, but they intend to develop their relations further to the extent possible. Washington is very well aware that Islam Karimov is unpredictable not only for the U.S., but also for the other leading world players in this region, Russia, China, and the EU countries. Since the Americans have decided to lay their Afghan route in the direction of the so-called Northern Corridor (through the territory of Russia, Kazakhstan, and Uzbekistan), Uzbekistan has become a key link in carrying out NATO’s military operation. In addition, the Americans have made the tactical decision to replace the Manas airbase with the Navoi aerodrome (with Tashkent’s consent), the necessary reconstruction of which will be done by South Korean specialists. At present, the U.S. is using its runways for carrying out non-military shipments.

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In principle, the Uzbek leadership has also given the go-ahead to NATO’s more intensive use of this route, even if the latter continues to take advantage of the Manas airbase. It appears that Uzbek President Islam Karimov has recently been considering withdrawing from alliances with Russia—the Eurasian Economic Community (EurAsEC) and CSTO. Uzbekistan’s orientation toward the U.S. and the West might have an impact on the geopolitical balance of forces existing in the region (primarily undermining Russia’s position) and launch the republic into the next round of the struggle for regional leadership. In 2009, a warming trend was felt in the relations between the two states. In 2010, the U.S. offered to cooperate with Uzbekistan in programs to support the American troops in Afghanistan, and Tashkent offered Washington the services of the Navoi airport for supplying its troops. But experts believe that these moves cannot be classified as an ultimate change in Tashkent’s geopolitical orientation. The matter more likely concerns a tactical move by Islam Karimov, who finds it more beneficial to engage in closer cooperation with the EU and U.S. At the end of January 2010, after the first round of Uzbek-American political consultations (they were initiated by U.S. Assistant Secretary of State Robert Blake, who visited Tashkent in October 2009), Islam Karimov signed a Cooperation Plan with the U.S. for 2010 that envisages interaction in the political, social, and economic spheres, as well as in security matters. The paragraph that concerns cooperation in security calls for organizing training and retraining of Uzbekistan’s officers (study courses and training sessions) at the U.S.’s leading military education institutions, including within the framework of the International Military Education and Training Program (IMET). In addition to ensuring security of borders and combating the spread of terrorism, the sides will cooperate within the Foreign Military Financing and Excess Defense Articles Transfer programs. Moreover, Uzbekistan and the U.S. will exchange information and undertake corresponding measures to prevent threats associated with the transit of non-military shipments through the Northern Distribution Network (NDN). There are also plans to join forces to build the Khairaton–Mazari-Shar- if railroad. Uzbek companies have already built 11 bridges along the Mazari-Sharif–Kabul route and are finishing the construction of a 275-mile high-voltage transmission line capable of transmitting 150 MW of electricity from Termez to Kabul. During the second half of the year, there were plans to carry out a special undertaking with the Atlantic Council to implement Uzbekistan’s regional security initiatives and create a “6+3” Contact Group for Afghanistan under the auspices of the U.N. Implement- ing various projects in agriculture, industry, and power engineering have also been included in the cooperation plan. In the economic sphere, the U.S. has plans to increase assistance to Uzbekistan to modernize its irrigation systems, restore degraded land, and use new technology to raise the harvest yield of farm crops. It should be noted that the main reason for the foreign policy rapprochement between Islam Karimov’s government and the Obama Administration is the Trans-Afghan Transport Corridor project, which will give Uzbekistan access to the ports of the Indian Ocean. At present, Uzbekistan is emphasizing its key role in peaceful settlement of the situation in Afghanistan. Nevertheless, the republic has no intentions of becoming a U.S. vassal. The Uzbeks are pragmatically prompting American representatives to cooperate, while keeping a reasonable distance. It should also be noted that Washington is worried about Tashkent becoming too involved in the ongoing ethnic conflict in South Kyrgyzstan with the aim of helping its fellow countrymen and pre- venting export of the revolution to Uzbekistan. At the same time, in the event of large-scale destabilization of the region, the U.S. is not excluding Tashkent’s more active role as the most influence military force in the Ferghana Valley.

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The U.S. and Turkmenistan

As Western observers note, Turkmenistan has recently become a new arena of rivalry between Russia and the U.S. in the CA region. The matter primarily concerns the fight over the direction of the main gas pipeline (meaning the competition between Nabucco and the Caspian pipeline). Moreover, there is competition over the training of servicemen and delivery of hardware. Russia is still trying to draw Turkmenistan into military relations by means of its participation in the Joint CIS Air Defense System, for example. In turn, the U.S is continuing to show an interest in establishing its air bases in Turkmenistan, the territory of which, being a transportation-transit corridor, is important for continuing the coalition operation in Afghanistan. By increasing its cooperation with Turkmenistan, the U.S. is guided not only by its own interests, but is primarily trying to ensure Europe’s energy security. For this purpose, American companies intend to increase their participation in developing Turkmen fields. In March of this year, an International Business Forum on the problems of hydrocarbon production in Turkmenistan was held in Ashghabad, which promoted further strengthening of economic contacts between the two countries. American analysts believe (drawing a parallel with Georgia) that Turkmenistan’s geographic location makes it possible for it to break away from Russia owing to the following circumstances: 1. Turkmenistan does not border on Russia (moreover, most of its population is concentrated in the far south of the country, that is, as far away as possible from Russia). 2. The country has a border with one of the major regional powers—Iran. 3. The infrastructure that joins Turkmenistan with Russia passes through two states. 4. Russia depends on the export of Turkmen gas (and not vice versa), which greatly complicates its attempts to strengthen its influence in the republic. Turkmenistan will be able to play one of the main roles in implementing America’s plans, which envisage building new routes for making deliveries to Afghanistan without passing through Russia. But it will be very difficult to ship cargo and personnel by rail from Turkey through Georgia and Azerbaijan and then send them across the Caspian Sea to a Turkmen port and on by land to Afghan- istan. Nevertheless, Turkmenistan is not showing any particular desire to establish closer ties with the U.S. The situation may change only if personal contact can be established between the presidents of the two countries. In this respect, it should be noted that Turkmenistan’s new president, Gurbanguly Berdymukhammedov, has shown himself to be quite active in foreign policy, visiting NATO headquarters in Brussels for the first time, where the sides agreed to intensify relations in several key spheres. The Pentagon continues to hope that cooperation will develop with Ashghabad. In June 2008, Commander of U.S. Naval Forces Central Command Vice Admiral Kevin J. Cosgriff and Rear Admi- ral William Gortney visited Ashghabad where they met with the republic’s Defense Minister and Head of the State Border Service. But Turkmenistan’s leadership has never taken any decisive steps toward establishing military cooperation with the U.S., since it is still probably worried about preserving its power. Turkmenistan is of interest to the U.S. not only because it has a common border with Afghani- stan, but also because there are abandoned military facilities in its territory not far from the Afghan border which could be a potential replacement for the Manas base. However, Ashghabad still does not

49 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS fully trust the West and is not entering any transactions with it (in 2008, some voiced the opinion that the West might have been involved in the attempted coup). The U.S. and EU hope that under the current leader Ashghabad will become much more pro- Western oriented and will develop the European vector in its foreign policy. As before, the West has its sights set on reorienting the gas flows from Turkmenistan to Eu- rope and making this republic less dependent on the pipelines that pass through Russian territory. Special U.S. State Department Envoy Richard Morningstar, who regularly visits Ashghabad, has repeatedly tried to convince the Turkmen president of the importance of partnership with Washing- ton, primarily in the energy sphere (he cites energy cooperation between the U.S. and Kazakhstan as an example). The American side repeatedly emphasizes that the more actively the Turkmen leadership permits U.S. companies to enter the republic, the more intensively the political and military ties between the two states will develop. The Afghan coalition operation and Turkmenistan’s indirect participation in it (meaning rendering the NATO troops all kinds of transit and supply services) will make it possible for the republic to count on increasing business and investment partnership with the U.S. The Turkmen leadership asked the EU to examine the possibility of gas delivery from Turkmen- istan to Europe through Iran (using the recently built gas pipeline from Dovletabad, which has a through- put capacity of 12 bcm of gas a year), bypassing Azerbaijan, but the U.S. was categorically against such an alternative.

The U.S. and Tajikistan

A new round in the U.S.’s political activity in Tajikistan began after former ambassador to the U.S. Khamrokhon Zarifi was appointed Minister of Foreign Affairs of the republic in December 2006. This showed Dushanbe’s willingness to step up bilateral cooperation. In May 2007, NATO made a decision to increase the transit of shipments through Tajikistan (for the ongoing military campaign of the coalition forces in Afghanistan). In so doing, Russia was assured that there was no intention of increasing the actual size of the North Atlantic Alliance’s contingent in Tajikistan. NATO representative Robert Simmons, who visited Dushanbe in May 2007, took part in this discussion. With respect to enlargement of the Afghan operation, Tajikistan could essentially become the U.S.’s main partner and ally in CA. It should be noted that cooperation between Washington and Dushanbe has become much more active recently, although the Tajik side has still not made any specific statements that make it possible for the U.S. to regard Emomali Rakhmon as a reliable and predictable partner. By the time the Americans made it understood that they were open to talks with all interested CA countries on matters of transit of military and non-military shipments, as well as creating temporary bases, the Tajik leadership had expressed its clear dissatisfaction with Russia’s policy regarding the already long planned building of the Rogun Hydropower Plant. The U.S. has long stopped criticizing Emomali Rakhmon’s domestic policy; it prefers to wait until it becomes clear how events will further develop around the coalition forces’ Afghan mission. Nor should we forget that at the current stage Tajikistan is important for the U.S. not as a target of beneficial economic investments, but as a strategic springboard against the Taliban in Afghanistan. And whether Tajikistan becomes one of the U.S.’s new partners in CA (including the possible deploy-

50 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 ment of military bases in the republic) will depend on how cooperation between Washington and Dushanbe develops in the future. The U.S. has already been rendering Tajikistan significant economic aid; for example, two bridges were built across the border river Panj, as well as two other bridges linking the republic with Afghanistan. For Tajikistan, which has long been in the grips of a transportation blockade imposed by Uzbekistan, direct access to the shores of the Indian ocean (via Afghanistan) is of immense importance. The situation currently developing in cooperation between the U.S. and Tajikistan is radically changing, since bringing the Afghan operation to its logical conclusion is one of the foreign policy priorities of the Obama Administration. As of today, the Americans can offer this kind of expanded cooperation (including the creation of U.S. military bases) to any of the CA states. Dushanbe has the opportunity to make its support of the Afghan campaign of the coalition forces hinge on economic projects that are beneficial to it. The U.S. has been offering the Tajik leadership the most diverse assistance, and Dushanbe, which has very scanty financial resources, has been unable to refuse it. At the present stage, the total amount of money America has allotted to Tajikistan already tops $1 billion, and this figure could essentially increase in the future. Tajikistan has quite a good opportunity for suggesting that the U.S. deploy stations in its territory for servicing the troops participating in the operation in Afghanistan (at least), which means striking while the iron is hot. In addition to building new bridges and rendering financial support in implementing aid programs in various spheres, it might be possible to interest the U.S. in issuing a loan for building the Rogun Hydropower Plant already mentioned, as well as other hydropower facilities. It goes without saying that in this case the Americans will try not to simply allot certain funds, but to invest them in the form of technology and equipment. In order to safeguard itself against Afghan instability and implement projects to build energy facilities, Tajikistan will have to make non-standard political decisions. After intensification of the financial crisis and change in the administration in the White House, the U.S. tried to probe the possibility of further increasing its influence in the CA region. This was related to enlargement of the military operation in Afghanistan. In mid-November 2008, U.S. State Department Representative George Krol visited Dushanbe. At a meeting with the President of Tajikistan, he said that the change in the American administration would in no way influence Washington’s policy regarding CA, which was extremely important for stability throughout the whole of the Asian continent. George Krol assured Emomali Rakhmon that the world crisis would not have an effect on the amount of financial aid to the region’s countries. The U.S. positively evaluates the measures undertaken by President Emomali Rakhmon to ensure stability in the republic. They include endowing the security service with special authorities for opposing Islamic fundamentalists and applying repressive measures against instructors of underground madrasahs suspected of proselytism. It should be noted that the republic considers itself to be one of Russia’s most devoted allies. Tajikistan has never had American military bases in its territory and has not advanced military cooperation with NATO, while all proposals regarding cooperation are primarily aimed at Moscow. More- over, Russia has a good chance of winning in the military rivalry for influence in Tajikistan. It has two military bases in the republic, and also arms and trains Tajik servicemen. At the same time, according to several experts, Tajikistan is regarded as the most pro-Western state in the region, despite Moscow’s attempts to put pressure on Emomali Rakhmon.

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Relations with Russia are still one of Tajikistan’s foreign policy priorities. But both sides are well aware that Russia far from always shows an economic interest in implementing a given joint project and frequently does not have enough financial resources to carry it out. This situation could tip the scales in favor of the U.S. and China (with its multi-billion investments) and turn Russia into just another regional player. At the beginning of February 2010, bilateral political consultations were held in Washington between Tajikistan and the U.S., during which the sides intended to examine issues concerning the political-economic situation in the region, implementation of hydropower and transportation projects, as well as the situation in Afghanistan. The Tajik authorities are willing to ask the U.S. to invest in various branches of the country’s economy, primarily in power engineering. Dushanbe is perfectly aware that its overseas partners might be interested in those projects that are in one way or another related to Afghanistan. According to experts, tired of waiting for Moscow to provide the assistance it needs, Tajikistan is turning its sights to Wash- ington. According to some analysts, in the context of the difficult economic situation in Tajikistan, Pres- ident Rakhmon is left with increasingly fewer opportunities for retaining control over the country. Dushanbe is worried about only one thing—where to get money from. Today, the U.S. and China (in contrast to the U.S., it is interested only in obtaining its own economic gain, without the political component) are the main sources of funding the republic needs; Russia has removed itself from the picture, while the EU is issuing small loans and grants that cannot have a significant influence on the domestic political and economic situation in the country. The U.S. is working in Tajikistan in keeping with the traditional pattern: it is issuing grants to develop civil society institutions, carry out reforms of the self-government structure, and support the public activity of politicians. In addition, the republic is receiving funds for protecting and equipping the border, as well as for fighting drug trafficking. However, the amounts allotted show that this is nothing more than a surreptitious way to line the bureaucrats’ pockets. The cooling off in relations between Tajikistan and Russia suits Washington to a tee, although the U.S. is not ready to render large-scale aid to Dushanbe. On the other hand, the American administration, which values the republic strategically for its proximity to Afghanistan, is worried about the rapprochement between Dushanbe and Iran, as well as China’s growing influence and economic presence in Tajikistan. Development of Tajikistan’s military cooperation with the U.S. consists of several aspects, one of which is creating a camp not far from Dushanbe for training Tajik servicemen, who until now have been undergoing training at Russian military centers. Since denunciation of the contract between Kyrgyzstan and the U.S. on the Manas air base, Washington has been looking at the Aini aerodrome (it was modernized with the participation of specialists from the Indian Defense Ministry) as an alternative base for using Tajikistan’s air and land transit corridors. In addition, the White House administration is still considering the possibility of a U.S. military operation against Iran. So the U.S. will continue asking Tajikistan to provide it with exclusive rental rights to the Aini aerodrome or its joint use. At the same time, efforts will be made to resolve questions regarding the financing of a whole series of economic projects (in power engineering and transportation) in the republic, including those in which China is currently investing. It should be noted that the Tajik leadership is counting precisely on this aspect of possible aid from the U.S. So until the Afghan campaign of the coalition forces is over, the Americans will continue to intensify their presence in Tajikistan too.

52 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 In Lieu of a Conclusion

The Obama Administration is largely pursuing the Central Asian policy begun by its predecessors, any adjustments, as a rule, being related to abrupt changes in the current situation. The main components of this strategy are intensifying the U.S.’s influence on the CA countries (from the point of view of the Afghanistan problem), moderate support of nongovernmental organizations, use of symbolic rhetoric on human rights, support of pipeline projects that bypass Russia and Iran, activation of cooperation in the military sphere, and emphasis on cooperation with Kazakhstan beyond the bilateral framework. Today, Barack Obama’s policy in CA focuses on caution and taking Russia’s interests into account. In the future, we should expect an increase in Washington’s concern about the strengthening of China’s and Iran’s positions in the region. It is entirely possible that this factor in particular will bring the U.S. and Russia closer together. Barack Obama’s election as U.S. president was accompanied by loud statements on foreign policy issues, including the future of American policy in Afghanistan; the Great Game entered another qual- itatively new round in its development. It was announced that Washington’s foreign policy would focus on stabilizing the situation in Afghanistan. This envisaged reversing the negative trends existing in this country and completing the building of a democratic society there. But no new real proposals for resolving the Afghan question were made. So the U.S.’s “new” Afghan policy is based on the traditional strong-arm approach that consists of increasing the military contingent and intensifying combat action to deal the final blow that will defeat the Taliban movement. One of the unpleasant surprises for the White House was the shift in accent in the Taliban’s military strategy, which began to pay more attention to targeted action that interfered with the delivery of military shipments, food, and fuel and lubricants for the coalition forces in Afghanistan. The main roads that link Kabul with other regions of the country and Pakistan were slowly but surely blocked. The Paki- stani route took the main brunt of the Taliban strike. The fact that the Manas military base will probably be closed is in full keeping with Russia’s interests. This event would help it to increase its influence in the CA region and resolve several problems existing in relations with the U.S. in its favor. It can be presumed that one of the objectives for stepping up the decision to close the Manas military base immediately after Barack Obama’s election as president was the desire to deprive the new head of the White House with the opportunity of continuing George Bush’s policy regarding Russia. From the viewpoint of long-term security and geopolitical leadership, closing the Manas base has both its pluses and minuses for Russia; this event will perceptibly increase its geopolitical opportunities, but will nevertheless create a direct threat to its security from Afghanistan. The thing is that the Taliban’s stronger position openly challenges CA’s stability, and the problems with delivering supplies to the Western forces may have a negative effect on their security, which will have negative consequences for the territories bordering on Afghanistan, including Russia. With this in mind, Moscow offered its alternative for supplying the American troops in Afghan- istan, which envisaged transit of strategic cargo. This will allow Russia to solve two strategic tasks. On the one hand, the American troops in Afghanistan will be provided with uninterrupted deliveries of supplies, while on the other (against the background of the unreliable routes through Pakistan), the Kremlin is essentially monopolizing the delivery of shipments to the NATO forces, which makes it possible for it to put pressure on the Americans.

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The White House was unlikely to bargain with the Kremlin until Barack Obama reinforced his negotiating position. It appears that several alternatives exist at present for fortifying the U.S.’s position, whereby each of them presents quite a complicated task: 1. Scaling down the military confrontation in Afghanistan as soon as possible (which will make deploying large contingents in this country unnecessary); 2. Returning the Manas air base; 3. Finding an alternative route through Russia as quickly as possible. All of Afghanistan’s neighbors (apart from Turkmenistan) have the status of member or observer in the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO); therefore use of this format for discussing not only the Afghan problem, but also developing the organization’s independent position and policy is very acceptable. But keeping in mind the events in XUAR in 2009, it is very likely that China, which is pursuing an anti-American policy, will put pressure on the SCO participants. Russia may steer a course toward increasing its influence in China (by strengthening economic cooperation and increasing aid to this country). This development of the situation could lead to greater cooperation between the U.S. and the Central Asian countries on international security, stabilization of the situation in Afghanistan, joint protection of the borders, holding regular military exercises under the NATO aegis, and combating various global threats.

SOME OF CHINA’S GEOPOLITICAL VECTORS IN CENTRAL ASIA

David BABAYAN Ph.D. (Hist.), Independent Expert

Introduction

he current stage of international relations is Relations, U.S. Secretary of State Hillary Clinton characterized by intensive rivalry among a said literally the following: “Let me say it clear- T whole number states over the establishment ly: The United States can, must, and will lead in of a new world order. The end of the bipolar sys- this new century.”1 Several countries, in particu- tem after the collapse of the U.S.S.R. gave rise to lar China and Russia, which Washington regards a systemic vacuum which the world power centers have different ideas about filling. The United 1 Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton, Re- States sees itself as the world leader, that is, it is marks on United States Foreign Policy, Council on Foreign Relations, US State Department, Washington, DC, available essentially striving to a unipolar system. Talking at [http://www.state.gov/secretary/rm/2010/09/146917.htm], in September 2010 at the Council on Foreign 8 September, 2010. 54 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 as its main potential rivals, do not agree with this Some of them even think that whereas during position. the first 30 years of the economic reforms, Chi- In light of the current events, the policy of na’s integration into the outside world was the the People’s Republic of China (PRC) is acquir- key imperative, during the next three decades, ing particularly importance. It is obvious that this the PRC will put the main emphasis on establish- country is playing a very important role in world ing a world order that encompasses the entire policy and that this role will continue to grow as globe.3 Beijing sees the future world order as time goes on. China has all the attributes of a great multipolar. power. Several well-known experts have already classified the PRC as an economic superpower.2 nities, Peterson Institute for International Economics, Center for Strategic and International Studies, Washington, DC, 2008, p. 9. 2 See, for example: F. Bergsten, Ch. Freeman, N. 3 See: M. Leonard, What Does China Think? Public Lardy, D. Mitchell, China’s Rise. Challenges and Opportu- Affairs, New York, 2008, p. 24.

China in the Present-Day World

During the past few decades, China has been making phenomenal progress in its economic development and in strengthening its defense potential, while also noticeably fortifying its position in some of the planet’s strategically important regions. And this is keeping in mind that the country is not in a very favorable geopolitical location. China is flanked in the east by countries that have close ties with the U.S. They include Japan, with its numerous islands, South Korea, Taiwan, the Philip- pines, various island states in the Pacific, as well as Malaysia and Indonesia. Its other traditional rivals, India and Vietnam, are located in the south. Recent trends show that Washington intends to use Delhi as a counterbalance to Beijing. China borders on Russia to the north and on Central Asia to the west, whereby there is rather intensive geopolitical rivalry going on among the various power centers in the latter. According to Chinese analysts, a state’s position is determined on the basis of comprehensive national strength.4 Chinese analysts use this method to measure the following four subsystems of national power: (1) material or hard power (natural resources, economics, science and technology, and national defense); (2) spirit or soft power (politics, foreign affairs, culture, and education); (3) coordinated power (leadership organization, command, management, and coordination of national development); and (4) environmental power (international, natural, and domestic). The PRC’s national development strategy is based on the idea that economic power is the most important component of comprehensive national strength in an era when peace and development are the main global trends and a world war can be avoided. It is no accident that Beijing places top priority on the country’s economic development.

4 See: Military Power of the People’s Republic of China 2000, Annual Report to Congress, Office of the Secretary of Defense, Washington, 2000, available at [http://www.defense.gov/news/Jun2000/china06222000.htm]. 55 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

The development dynamics of the Chinese economy are simply astounding, its key indices being a graphic manifestation of this, particularly the gross domestic product. China’s GDP amounted to 3. 34 trillion dollars in 2007,5 it reached 4.2 trillion dollars in 2008,6 and in 2009 it increased by another 8.7%.7 Over 30 years of continuous economic growth, China’s economy has undergone an overall 15-fold increase, while its foreign trade turnover has risen more than 100-fold. According to U.N. Under- Secretary-General for Economic and Social Affairs Sha Zukang, these figures demonstrate the fastest economic growth in contemporary history.8

The PRC’s Energy Vulnerability

However, despite the truly astounding economic growth and military-building rates, the PRC will very likely soon encounter serious challenges with respect to maintaining the first and most important component of comprehensive national strength—material and hard power. As early as the beginning of the 21st century, PRC Minister of Land and Resources Tian Fengshan said that China’s supplies of strategic resources indicate that the country will be unable to maintain its previous rates of rapid economic growth.9 Energy resources are particularly important in this respect. In an article on the PRC’s energy security, then Chinese Prime Minister Li Peng said that China should face up to the fact that its own oil production will not be sufficient to meet the economic development rates.10 China became an oil importer in 1993. In 2006, it was the PRC that accounted for 16% of world oil consumption.11 The International Energy Agency’s (IEA) annual report, World Energy Outlook 2007, indicates that by 2030 China’s energy needs will reach 3.8 billion tons in oil equivalent compared to 2.1 billion in 2002.12 In keeping with this scenario, by 2030 China will consume more energy than the EU, Russia, and Japan put together and, after surpassing the U.S., will occupy first place in the world with a world energy consumption of 22%. The situation is aggravated by the fact that to compensate for the shortage of raw hydrocarbons, Beijing is going to have to import these strategically important resources from regions that are one way or another in the sphere of geopolitical influence of China’s main potential rival, the U.S. For instance, in 2008 Africa’s share in China’s oil import amounted to approximately 30%, while the share of the Middle East in this same import constitutes almost 50%,13 and this index could reach 80% by 2020.14

5 See: “China’s GDP Grows 11.4 Percent in 2007,” Xinhua, available at [http://news.xinhuanet.com/english/2008-01/ 24/content_7485388.htm], 24 January, 2008. 6 See: National Economy: Steady and Fast Growth in 2008, National Bureau of Statistics of China, available at [http:// www.stats.gov.cn/english/newsandcomingevents/t20090122_402534173.htm], 22 January, 2009. 7 See: Full Text: “Report on China”s National Economic, Social Development Plan,” Xinhua, available at [http:// news.xinhuanet.com/english2010/china/2010-03/16/c_13212790_2.htm], 16 March, 2010. 8 See: “Deputy U.N. Chief: China Becoming Engine for World Economy,” Xinhua, available at [http:// news.xinhuanet.com/english/2008-10/06/content_10154226.htm], 6 October, 2008. 9 See: “China Threatened with Resource Deficiency,” Xinhua, 12 March, 2001. 10 See: Li Peng, “China’s Policy on Energy Resources,” Xinhua, 28 May, 1997. 11 F. Bergsten, Ch. Freeman, N. Lardy, and D. Mitchell, op. cit., p. 141. 12 See the corresponding sections in IEA World Energy Outlook 2007 and IEA World Energy Outlook 2002, OSCE, Paris, 2003. 13 See: F. Bergsten, Ch. Freeman, N. Lardy, D. Mitchell, op. cit., p.222. 14 See: F. Fesharaki, K. Wu, Outlook for Energy Demand, Supply, and Government Policies in China, East-West Center, Honolulu, 29 July, 1998. 56 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

The same applies to natural gas. In accordance with a report on the development of China’s energy industry for 2007, by 2020 natural gas consumption could reach 200 bcm, while the country itself produces only 100 bcm.15 This situation runs counter to China’s guiding principle of relying on its own capabilities (zili gengsheng). It stands to reason that the PRC should do all it can to prevent events from developing along these lines. It would put China, a key global geopolitical player, in rather a vulnerable position, particularly since oil imports from the Middle East, Africa, and South America pass through areas of the World Ocean that are controlled by the naval forces of China’s potential rivals, particularly the U.S.

Central Asia: China’s Energy Rear

Central Asia is acquiring a key role in this context. This region is rich in natural resources, particularly the raw hydrocarbons that China urgently needs. The Republic of Kazakhstan is one of the richest oil and gas countries of the region. Kazakhstan’s natural gas reserves reach 2.35 tcm, 1.9 tcm of which are found in areas where oil is also produced.16 In terms of oil reserves, the republic occupies first place in Central Asia. Kazakhstan President Nursultan Nazarbaev promised to produce 400 million tons of oil a year by 2015, which is the amount currently produced by Saudi Arabia.17 Turkmenistan is the leader in Central Asia in terms of natural gas reserves. The republic also has large oil reserves. In the surveyed part of Turkmenistan alone (and this is only one third of the republic’s territory), oil reserves are estimated at 12 billion tons, while natural gas amounts to 23 tcm.18 Uzbekistan is also rich in raw hydrocarbons. According to Uzbekneftegaz, the country’s prospective reserves of natural gas are estimated at 5.429 tcm, a little more than 2 tcm of which have been surveyed.19 However, the total amount of proven oil reserves in Uzbekistan is estimated at 5.3 billion tons, while condensate reserves amount to 480 million tons.20 This is why it is vitally important for Beijing to ensure raw hydrocarbon deliveries from Central Asia. This approach fully coincides with the oil strategy declared by several Chinese experts. In accordance with this strategy’s provisions, “unless China invests the capital to control some oil resources, any even insignificant international economic, political, or military conflict could affect supply and demand on the spot market, causing severe interference to our oil imports to seriously undermine China’s economic stability and sustained development.”21 For strategic considerations, it is more beneficial for China to make arrangements for oil and natural gas to be delivered from Central Asia, with which it has a common border, than from more distant regions by sea. Zhang Wenmu, a researcher from the Chinese Institute of Contemporary In-

15 See: “Report: China to Import Half of Gas Demand by 2020,” Xinhua, available at [http://news.xinhuanet.com/ english/2007-04/20/content_6003314.htm], 20 April, 2007. 16 See: “Kazakhstan Natural Gas,” Agency France Press (Atyrau), 10 May, 2000. 17 See: “Kazakh Oil Output May Rival Saudi Arabia,” Reuters (Almaty), 27 April, 2000. 18 See: V. Gavrilenko, “Turkmenistan,” Krasnaia Zvezda, 6 March, 1999, p. 4. 19 See: A. Vladimirov, “Stavka na inostrannykh investorov,” Nezavisimaia gazeta, 17 February, 1999, p. 4. 20 See: M. Gafarly, “Na poroge neftianogo buma,” Nezavisimaia gazeta, 11 July, 2000, p. 5. 21 For more detail, see: Lin Ye, Zhang Zhong, “Models of Development and Trends in Investment for Multinational Oil Companies,” Guoju Maoyi, 20 August, 1997, pp. 29-36, in: E.S. Downs, China’s Quest for Energy Security, Rand, 2000, p. 20. 57 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS ternational Relations, believes the Central Asian oil market should be oriented toward China. “It is better to place the main stakes on oil and gas transportation by land, since China, which has the advantage of large land forces, is capable of ensuring the security of such deliveries,” believes the Chinese researcher.22 Moreover, arranging for deliveries of natural resources to the PRC will be one of the most effective ways to create interdependence between the PRC and the Central Asian states, which is one of the most important imperatives of the geopolitics of any state. In this sense, Central Asia could be China’s energy rear. So Beijing’s main political strategy in the region is primarily aimed at convincing the Central Asian states that their increased cooperation with China will not pose a threat to their security. This is the message China conveys in essentially all the documents it has signed with the Central Asian countries. China’s relations with Central Asia are built on the basis of the following principles: peace, cooperation, development, mutual wellbeing, progress, and mutual understanding. In almost all the official documents signed with the region’s countries, Beijing invariably declares its adherence to principles of territorial integrity, non-interference in internal affairs, and equality. The PRC has offered the Central Asian countries security guarantees and announced its support of their independence. But the PRC has not only been trying to unilaterally convince the region’s states of its exclusively constructive intentions. The Central Asian countries have also been forthcoming in their support of China. A graphic example of this is the fact that the Central Asian countries condoned to recognize Taiwan as an integral part of China and pledged not to establish any official relations with the runaway province. It is interesting that China nevertheless acknowledged Uzbekistan’s right to establish and maintain trade and economic relations with Taiwan at an exclusively nongovernment level.23 This condition has not been envisaged in a single communiqué on the establishment of diplomatic relations signed with other countries of the region. It is possible that this was Beijing’s way of under- lining Tashkent’s special status in the region. As already mentioned, Kazakhstan has the largest oil reserves in the region and, in this respect, it stands to reason that Beijing’s attention was first attracted by this state’s oil fields. As early at the summer 1997, in a competitive struggle with American and Russian companies, the Chinese National Petroleum Corporation (CNPC) acquired 60% of the shares of the Aktiubinskmunaigaz Production Association, which controls three major oil fields in the north of Kazakhstan. The fact that the Chi- nese company was able to outmaneuver such oil giants as Texaco and Amoco in this bargaining was largely due to the extremely appealing conditions the Chinese offered. The CNPC pledged to invest 4.3 billion dollars over 20 years.24 It also promised to pay the pensions and utility services of approximately 5,000 workers, service Aktiubinskmunaigaz’s $71 million debt, invest $80 million in an environmental protection program, and also pay for the right to develop the subsurface.25 The CNPC agreed to pay the Kazakhstan government dividends totaling $320 million in advance, as well as carry out research on the possible construction of an oil pipeline costing $3.5 billion from the field in Ak- tiubinsk to China.26

22 For more detail, see: Zhang Wenmu, “Meiguo de shiyou diyuan zhanyue yu Zhongguo Xizang Xinjiang diqu an- quan (America’s Geopolitical Oil Strategy and Security of China’s Tibet and Xinjiang Regions),” Zhanlueycguanli (Strat- egy and Management), No. 2, 1998, pp. 100-104. 23 For more on this, see: “China and Uzbekistan,” Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the People’s Republic of China, available at [http://www.fmprc.gov.cn/eng/4467.html]. 24 See: “China Takes Control of Kazakhstan’s Aktyubinsk,” East European Energy Report, No. 69, 24 June, 1997, p. 16. 25 See: Sh. Behn, “CNPC Deal Tops $4 Billion,” Platt’s Oilgram News, Vol. 75, No. 108, 5 June, 1997, p. 1. 26 See: A. Davis, “China/Kazakhstan—Strategic Oil Deal Recently Completed,” Jane’s Intelligence Review, Vol. 4, No. 1, 1 December, 1997, p. 9. 58 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

In September of the same 1997, the CNPC acquired the right, after fierce bargaining with such well-known oil giants as Petronas, Unocal, and Amoco, to ownership and use of Uzen, one of the largest oil fields in Western Kazakhstan, for twenty years. Just as before, the CNPC offered the Kazakh side conditions which, figuratively speaking, Astana could not refuse. In addition to indirect investments amounting to 400 million dollars, the Chinese side pledged to pay the Kazakhstan government dividends amounting to $52 million in advance.27 According to different estimates, the CNPC’s total investments amount to between $1.3 billion and $4.38 billion.28 The CNPC also agreed to pay 8% of its net profit to the Kazakhstan government for the right to develop the subsurface, service the enterprise’s $6-million debt, invest $10 million in specialist training programs, and pay $27 million to the social services fund.29 The Chinese also told the Kazakh side that they were willing to build an oil pipeline from the fields in Uzen to Aktiubinsk. Moreover, the CNPC agreed to build a pipeline from Kaza- khstan to Turkmenistan. This pipeline could go on to Iran. As soon as the Chinese began purchasing shares in Aktiubinskmunaigaz, the owner of the third largest field in Kazakhstan in terms of oil deposits, oil from this field started going to the PRC. But it is not exported to China via the oil pipeline. Aktiubinsk oil is pumped by pipeline to the Orsk oil refinery in the Russian Federation. And from there, the ONAKO Company, which owns the Orsk oil refinery, exports its own oil instead, dispatching it from the ports of Novorossiisk and Tuapse. Many believe that the oil pipeline from Kazakhstan to China could become a potential source of oil supply for the Republic of Korea, Japan, and other countries of the Asia Pacific Region. This development of the situation not only promises high dividends for the PRC, but will also significantly fortify Beijing’s position in the region. The pipeline from Central Asia through China to the Asia Pacific Region has even been called the Pan-Asian Oil Bridge. In 2006, China was managing approximately 24% of Kazakh oil production.30 The Chinese are also developing rather isolated fields (such as North Buzachi, North Kumkol, and Karazhanbas), which, since they are close to the Kazakh-Chinese pipeline, are acquiring particular importance. On the whole, the Chinese strategy is aimed at linking all the fields acquired by the Chinese side to each other, which will result in unification of the fields from the shores of the Caspian Sea to the Kazakh-Chinese border. This process is to be completed by 2011, after which the PRC will be able to import between 5% and 10% of the total amount of oil delivered by Kazakhstan.31 There are also several other extremely interesting aspects of China’s oil strategy in Kazakhstan. Particular mention should be made of the fact that after Chinese government investors acquired several oil companies, they transferred some of these shares to the Kazakh KazMunaiGaz Company. The reasoning behind this is that every such operation guarantees the possibility of the next one. Moreover, it pursues the goal of ensuring that both sides develop on the basis of mutual gain. China would like each side to be able to draw real benefit from this cooperation.32 In addition to Kazakhstan, other countries of the region also have oil resources, in particular Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan. The PRC is interested in importing oil from these countries too. But,

27 See: A. Davis, op. cit., p. 9. 28 See: Sh. Behn, “China, Kazakhstan Sign Deal for Huge Uzen Field,” Platt’s Oilgram News, Vol. 75, No. 186, 25 September, 1997, p. 1. 29 See: A. Rashid, T. Saywell, “Beijing Gusher: China Pays Hugely to Bag Energy Supplies Abroad,” Far Eastern Economic Review, 26 February, 1998, p. 48. 30 See: S. Peyrouse, “Sino-Kazakh Relations: A Nascent Strategic Partnership,” The Jamestown Foundation, China Brief, Vol. 8, Issue 21, available at [http://www.jamestown.org/programs/chinabrief/single/?tx_ttnews%5Btt_news% 5D=34142&tx_ttnews%5BbackPid%5D=168&no_cache=1], 4 November, 2008. 31 Ibidem. 32 See, for example: “Posol Kitaia v Azerbaidzhane: My gotovy uchastvovat v osvoenii Kaspiia”, RosInvest.com, available at [http://www.rosinvest.com/news/526387/], 9 April, 2009. 59 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS as already noted, natural gas is also very important for Beijing. In this respect, Turkmenistan is acquiring particular importance for China. As early as October 2000, during his visit to Ashghabad, then head of the PRC Jiang Zemin said that cooperation between the two countries in the energy industry was vital. The U.S. gave an interesting assessment of China’s attempts to step up its energy policy in Turkmenistan. For example, when commenting on Russia’s concerns about the Nabucco project, Special Envoy of the United States Secretary of State for Eurasian Energy Richard Morningstar said that Russia should not be so worried about the U.S. supporting the Nabucco project but about the projects being implemented by China in Turkmenistan.33 The enormous reserves of hydrocarbons in Central Asia are not the only thing that makes this region important in the PRC’s oil and gas policy. It also provides Beijing with access to the oil and gas market of the Southern Caucasus, as well as Iran, which in turn will help to augment China’s political influence in the southwest Caspian area. China is already exerting active efforts in this region. For example, in 2002, the CNPC had already acquired a 30% share from the European Bank of Re- construction and Development to participate in a project to develop the Kiursengli and Karabagly fields in the Azerbaijan Republic.34 Moreover, according to the reports of the PRC ambassador to Azerbaijan, the CNPC is discussing the possibility of joint development with the State Oil Compa- ny of the Republic of Azerbaijan of two land fields, Pirsagat and Muradkhanly.35 At the end of April 2009, the China National Oil and Gas Exploration and Development Corporation (CNOGEDC) signed a contract with the Kazakh State Oil Company, KazMunaiGaz, on purchasing the Mangis- taumunaigaz Closed Joint-Stock Company for $3.3 billion.36 This company has a license for exploring and developing 15 oil and gas fields in Kazakhstan, particularly in the Caspian Sea region. Mangistaumunaigaz is a relatively large company with an annual oil production volume of 40 million barrels and natural gas reserves of 41.8 bcm.37 It goes without saying that by finding a niche for itself on the Central Asian coast of the Caspian Sea, the PRC is gradually fortifying its position in the Southern Caucasus too. Beijing is acquiring direct access through Central Asia to one of the most important and richest raw hydrocarbon states in the Middle East, Iran, a state which is of immense importance in Beijing’s foreign policy and with which it intends to establish long-term stable relations.38 Iran’s raw hydrocarbons could be delivered to the PRC through Central Asia, which would increase the PRC’s influence in Iran and the Caspian region as a whole even more, as well as make it possible for Beijing to gain access to the Persian Gulf region. Incidentally, China is setting great store by cooperation with Iran in the energy sphere. As of today, Iran is already the third, after Saudi Arabia and Angola, largest oil supplier, exporting up to 300,000 barrels of oil a day.39 More than 100 Chinese state companies are currently operating in Iran, participating in the building of infrastructure, such as roads, ports, docks, airports, dams, and so on.

33 See: “Rossii stoilo by povolnovatsia ne ob amerikanskoi podderzhke ‘Nabukko,’ a o proektakh Kitaia v Turkmen- istan—spetspredstavitel Gosdepartamenta SShA,” Trend News, available at [http://news-ru.trend.az/politics/foreign/1493137. html], 24 June, 2009. 34 First Baku Radio program in Azerbaijani, 11 January, 2002, 11:00 local time. 35 Baku Radio, 7 January, 2002, 18:00 local time. 36 See: “CNPC, KazMunaiGas Purchase Kazakh Oil and Gas Company for $3.3 bln,” Xinhua, available at [http://news. xinhuanet.com/english/2009-04/24/content_11251750.htm], 24 April, 2009. 37 Ibidem. 38 BBC, SWB, Third Series, ME/3771, 23 February, 2000. 39 See: P. Chang, “China’s Policy Toward Iran: Arms for Oil?” The Jamestown Foundation, China Brief, Vol. 8, Issue 21, available at [http://www.jamestown.org/programs/chinabrief/single/?tx_ttnews%5Btt_news%5D=34141&tx_ttnews% 5BbackPid%5D=168&no_cache=1], 18 November, 2008. 60 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 Hydro Policy

The next main vector of China’s policy in the Central Asian region could be hydro policy. The water problem is traditionally one of the most urgent in the region. Andijan, Bukhara, Karakalpakstan, Khavarazm, Namangan, Samarkand, Syr Darya, and Sakhun Darya (all in Uzbekistan), Khatlan (in Tajikistan), and Akhal (in Turkmenistan) suffer from the most serious water problems, while there is not one province in Turkmenistan that has its own water sources.40 Moreover, 90% of the region’s main crops are grown on irrigated land. And water problems will become even more urgent as the region’s population grows. For example, between 1959 and 1989, the region’s population increased by 140%. It is presumed that by 2020 it will increase by another third41 and, according to some fore- casts, by 2025 will amount to 90.8 million people.42 However, even though it is one of Central Asia’s most urgent issues, the water problem is also essentially one of the least regulated. In Soviet times, water distribution among the Central Asian republics did not pose any particular problem. Everything was centralized. Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan covered Kyrgyzstan’s and Tajikistan’s energy needs, receiving the water they needed from the latter in return. But when the republics gained their independence, the problem of water distribution in the region became aggravated. This was promoted both by revision of the water quota and by the new problem of non-payment for the use of hydro resources. For example, Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan repeatedly talked about the need to increase water consumption. As early as the mid-1900s, Dushanbe in particular frequently announced its plans to take an additional 600 million cm of water from the Zaravshan River.43 It goes without saying that Tajikistan’s and Kyrgyzstan’s intentions did not meet with approval from neighboring countries. The states capable of having a tangible effect on Central Asia’s water resources, particularly those of the Aral Basin, are becoming particularly important at this stage, when the position of the main world power centers in this strategically significant region is largely becoming a derivative of their position in the world breakdown of forces. It appears that water is the most vulnerable component of security in Central Asia, and the situation is aggravated by the fact that a number of states in the region, as well as the administrative units within these states, have to depend on outside supplies of water. For example, 2/3 of the regions in Central Asia receive at least half of the water resources they need from beyond their borders,44 while in the case of Turkmenistan this index reaches 98%.45 However, conflicts even arise at the local level when water is supplied from one district to another within the same country, which only goes to show gravity of this problem.46 The fact that 50% of the region’s population lives in the Ferghana Valley where the problem of ethnic relations is customarily rather acute also adds fuel to the flames.

40 For more on this, see: D.R. Smith, “Environmental Security and Shared Water Resources in Post-Soviet Central Asia,” Post-Soviet Geography, Vol. 36, No. 6, 1995, pp. 351-370. 41 See: Mirzoev’s Report, table 1, Tashkent Engineering Institute of Irrigation and Agricultural Mechanization, May 1998. 42 See: A. Tabyshalieva, “Post-Soviet Central Asia: Sub-Regional Cooperation and Peace,” in: Peace and Security in Central Asia, Occasional Paper Series, IDSA, New Delhi, September 2000, pp. 78, 94. 43 See: E. Fomina, “Pit vodu v respublike opasno: potrebuetsia mnogo deneg dlia uluchsheniia situatsii,” Nezavisi- maia gazeta, 23 November, 1994, p. 3. 44 See: D.R. Smith, op. cit., pp. 361-362. 45 See: Ibidem. 46 See, for example: Y. Roy, “Central Asia Riots and Disturbances, 1989-1990: Causes and Context,” Central Asian Survey, Vol. 10, No. 3, 1991, p. 24. 61 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

Water is also extremely important for the economy of the region’s countries, particularly agriculture. For example, 48% of Turkmenistan’s labor resources are engaged in cotton production, while the share of white gold accounts for 76% of the state’s revenue in Uzbekistan.47 On the strength of the above, Kazakhstan President Nursultan Nazarbaev was right when he said that water shortage in Central Asia could become a potential source of tension in the region.48 So any state that can offer an effective hydro policy will have an advantage in Central Asia in the near future, particularly keeping in mind that Central Asia’s water resources, as well as the hydropower energy it produces, will be in increasingly greater demand in the region’s neighboring states. All the above-mentioned aspects naturally make control over Central Asia’s water resources one of the most efficient, if not the most efficient, lever for acquiring greater influence in the region. As of today, the PRC has rather effective levers for putting hydro pressure on Kazakhstan. This is because approximately one third of Kazakhstan’s water resources come from China, and Beijing intends to use the water resources of more than 30 rivers that run from China to Kazakhstan.49 But the key elements in the PRC’s hydro policy with respect to Kazakhstan will be the Ili and Irtysh rivers, whereby not only will Kazakhstan be affected, but the Russian Federation too. Features of Beijing’s hydro pressure policy are already evident. Chinese project No. 635 envisages building a major canal from the upper reaches of the Irtysh to Lake Uliungur. Then water will be transported along powerful pipelines and used for the needs of the industrial enterprises of the Kara- mai oil basin located close to the city of Urumqi, for irrigating 140,000 hectares of farm land, and for other needs of the Xinjiang-Uighur Autonomous Region. The plans to use water from the Irtysh were first voiced at the turn of the 1970s-1980s when the Soviet Union was still in existence. Soviet ecol- ogists immediately expressed their concern that an increase in China’s water intake would have a very negative effect on Kazakhstan’s environment. At that time, the Soviet Union and the PRC came to terms on drawing up an interstate agreement. But a final solution to the problem was not found due to the sides’ different approaches to this matter. Kazakh and Russian experts still think that if China takes more water from the Irtysh, it will be extremely detrimental to the economy and environment of both Kazakhstan and Russia. Even an annual intake of 485 million cm of water from the Irtysh, that is, approximately 5% of the volume of its average annual drainage (the first stage of project No. 635) threatens Kazakhstan with serious consequences. And if China increases its annual water intake to 1 billion cm and, in the future, to 6 billion cm a year from the Irtysh and Ili rivers (there is information that these are its plans), this could have catastrophic consequences for a vast region.50 Moreover, the Irtysh is the largest tributary of one of Russia’s main rivers, the Ob. It also feeds Lake Zaisan in Kazakhstan. The cities of Ust-Kamenogorsk, Semipalatinsk, and Pavlodar, as well as the Irtysh-Karaganda canal, are also threatened with water shortages. The level of the Irtysh near the city of Omsk could drop by 60 cm.51 Almost 2.5 million people live in the basin of the Irtysh River in Kazakhstan. Large industrial centers are located here, Ust-Kamenogorsk, Semipalatinsk, and Pavlodar, not to mention the numerous small towns and villages. Many districts of Central Kazakhstan also consume water from

47 See: H. Carlisle, “Forced Student Labor in Central Asia’s Cotton Fields,” Surviving Together, Vol. 14, No. 4, 1996, p. 31. 48 See: “Kazakhstan. Nazarbaev, Drugs, Terrorism, Water Threaten Central Asia,” Reuters (Almaty), 25 February, 2000. 49 See: T. Bakhytzhan, “Water May Cause Conflict Between Kazakhstan and China,” The Times of Central Asia, Vol. 2, Issue 22 (65), 3 June, 2000. 50 See: V. Turov, “Kak Rossiiu ostavliaiut za ‘vodozaborom’,” Nezavisimaia gazeta, 12 May, 1999, p. 4. 51 See: Ibidem. 62 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 the Irtysh. Disruption of the environmental balance could have specific negative consequences: a drop in the level of Lake Zaisan, reduction in fish supplies, problems with supplying water to the lakeside villages and towns, desertification of meadow land, and deterioration of the fodder base for stock breeding. Beijing’s use of water from the Irtysh could also have negative consequences for Kazakhstan’s transportation system, particularly if we keep in mind that the average annual drainage of the Irtysh amounts to 9 bcm, while Beijing, as noted above, intends to take larger amounts of water from the river.52 Due to its geographic location, the Irtysh River has immense transit potential. Before the beginning of the 1970s, shipments were transported via the Irtysh from China to Kazakhstan and on toward the Russian Federation. There was also a reverse cargo flow. At present, efforts are being made to enter an intergovernmental agreement with Russia on the organization and transportation of cargo and passengers by Kazakh and Russian ships via the Irtysh River. The cities of Pavlodar, Semipalatinsk, and Ust-Kamenogorsk have river ports. The size of the fleet on this river amounts to around 540 sail- ing vessels, and in 2000, the amount of cargo transported reached 263,000 tons, which is twice as high as the volume of shipments in 1999.53 The PRC’s use of water from the Ili River could also have just as serious consequences for Kazakhstan and the region as a whole. The sources of 80% of its water originate in China.54 It feeds Kazakhstan’s largest lake, Balkhash, which is one of the largest sources of drinking water and also supplies water for the metallurgical and energy industry. Use of the river’s water could lead to Lake Balkhash drying up and cause a serious environmental disaster equivalent to the one that befell Aral. Recognizing all of this, the Kazakhstan authorities are actively trying to find compromises with the Chinese. The main shift in Kazakh-Chinese water relations can be considered the fact that Beijing has said it will not adhere to national egoism in the water issue. According to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Kazakhstan, the Chinese side has confirmed that use of transborder rivers in the territory of one of the sides should not cause damage to the other side. Chinese Ambassador to the Republic of Kazakhstan Li Huei commented on the situation that has developed regarding this matter and said that China is taking Kazakhstan’s interests into account and has no intention of doing anything that will be detrimental to its neighbor’s environment. This position was also confirmed by a high-ranking employee of the Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs.55 During the first decade of the 21st century, Beijing’s policy has not undergone any significant changes. In January 2010, representative of the Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs Ma Zhaoxu said at a press conference that China is treating rational use and protection of the water resources of Chi- nese-Kazakh transborder rivers seriously. The Chinese diplomat noted that the Chinese side is paying great attention to the development of strategic partnership relations with Kazakhstan. The sides are maintaining favorable contacts and have established cooperation in the development of transborder rivers.56 China is invariably upholding the principle of ensuring progressive development in this matter

52 See: T. Bakhytzhan, op. cit. 53 See: Finansovyy rynok Respubliki Kazakhstan, Analysis of Government Resolution No. 566 of 27 April, 2001 on the Development Concept of International Transport Corridors of the Republic of Kazakhstan, available at [http://www. pavlodar.com/zakon/nzak_right.htm?dok=00880&uro=06002]. 54 See: B. Pannier, E. Magauin, “Kazakhstan: China Discusses Future of Irtysh River,” RFE/RL Weekly Magazine, 28 May, 1999. 55 See: A. Mukhambediarova, “Kazakhstan—Kitai: reshenie vodnoi problemy opiat’ otkladyvaetsia,” Political Re- search Agency, available at [http://www.caapr.kz/show.php?kza1104-01.htm], 10 April, 2001. 56 See: “MID KNR: Kitai pridaet seryoznoe znacheniie ratsionalnomu ispolzovaniiu i okhrane vodnykh resursov kitaisko-kazakhstanskikh transgranichnykh rek,” China.org, available at [http://russian.china.org.cn/government/txt/2010- 01/29/content_19328048.htm], 29 January, 2010. 63 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS and is taking full account of the interests and concerns of the sides involved, particularly neighboring countries, said Ma Zhaoxu. But all the same, despite a certain amount of progress in Chinese-Kazakh relations regarding water resources, Beijing is showing Astana in no uncertain terms that it has a powerful lever up its sleeve, which it will use if necessary to create a situation of intervulnerability with this Central Asian state, particularly since Beijing is not violating international regulations in this respect. Yes, Beijing did say that it would not uphold a position of national egoism. But if the country’s national interests are threatened, it might resort to its hydro policy in order to defend them. Moreover, there are no clear international standards or criteria to date regarding the use of the hydro resources of transborder rivers. Bilateral agreements are used as the main legal base in this matter. This applies to the above- mentioned Irtysh and Ili rivers, as well as to another 23 rivers. To some extent, developing Kazakh-Chinese relations regarding the use of transborder rivers is also hindered by the fact that Kazakhstan is placing the main emphasis in resolving problems in- volving transborder rivers, particularly with respect to the resources of the River Irtysh basin, on reaching a corresponding agreement in the trilateral, Kazakh-Russian-Chinese, format. Astana’s approach is relatively understandable. The Irtysh is of course a river that China, Kazakhstan, and Russia share, so it is very logical that all three countries should come to terms in order to ensure efficient resolution of the issues concerning this river’s water resources. Moreover, by entering an agreement in this trilateral format, Astana will be insuring itself against any hydro policy launched by Beijing, since Russia might also be affected, which will greatly limit China’s maneuverability. This is mainly why the PRC is trying its best to avoid signing an agreement on political aspects, particularly in the trilateral format. Nevertheless, with such effective hydro levers as the Irtysh and Ili rivers at its disposal, the PRC will only be in a position to put pressure on Kazakhstan. China does not have this lever of pressure on the rest of Central Asia. So in the context of hydro policy in Central Asia, Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan are playing a key role. These two states are hydro donors of sorts for the entire Central Asian region. Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan account for 55% and 25.3% of all the water resources of the Aral basin, respectively, which supplies 75% of the Central Asian population with water.57 Tajikistan’s hydropower resources alone, which are estimated at 527 billion kW/h a year, are three- fold higher than the current electricity needs of all the region’s countries. 58 These two states can be said to be the key to Central Asia, and in order to create a situation of interdependence with the region as a whole, Beijing must direct its efforts toward fortifying its position in Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan in particular. The importance of Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan is increasing even more due to the fact that the possible effect of China’s hydro policy with respect to Central Asia and particularly Kazakhstan might be significantly undermined if water is delivered to the Central Asian region in the future from the Russian Federation. Plans to reroute the Siberian rivers toward the arid areas of Central Asia appeared as early as the beginning of the 20th century. These plans gave rise particularly live- ly discussions in the 1970s-1980s. However, none of these projects were carried out, mainly for environmental considerations. All the same, the projects to delivery water from Siberia to Central Asia could be carried out at some point. In this respect, the proposal made by former Moscow Mayor Yuri Luzhkov is particularly interesting. The gist of this proposal is to build a reservoir on Russian territory at the natural watershed located between the Omsk Region of the Russian Federation and

57 See: P. Micklin, “Managing Water in Central Asia,” CACP Key Paper, RIIA, London, 2000, p. 37. 58 See: Speech by President of the Republic of Tajikistan Emomali Rakhmon at the World Water Forum, Istanbul, 16 March, 2009. 64 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

Kazakhstan between the rivers Irtysh and Ob, which will be filled from the upper reaches of the River Ob and other rivers.59 Water will then go on from there to Central Asia. According to some estimates, up to 6 cubic km of water a year can be taken without causing damage to the environment. This could essentially take the wind out of the sails of Beijing’s possible hydro policy regarding Kazakhstan. So how is Beijing to fortify its position in Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan? Its main efforts should be directed toward intensifying economic ties, in which it is already actively engaged. The Chinese are participating actively in developing raw hydrocarbon fields in Kyrgyzstan. This is a very promising vector for strengthening economic ties. Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan are not capable of fully meeting their energy resource needs by means of their own sources of raw hydrocarbons. This is where Beijing could offer an alternative. Xinjiang, which borders on Central Asia, has sufficiently large reserves of raw hydrocarbons. The proven reserves of natural gas in the Tarim basin amount to 419 bcm, and it is expected that in the next 5-10 years they will reach 1 trillion cm.60 The Xin- jiang-Uighur Autonomous Region also has huge coal supplies. Coal reserves in the XUAR amount to 2,190 billion tons, or 40.6% of all of China’s reserves.61 Xinjiang also has large oil reserves. Beijing can arrange for oil, natural gas, and coal to be delivered to Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan, particularly since these deliveries will constitute a very small part of the PRC’s energy balance. This alternative will be extremely advantageous for Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan, and it could even become a way to make these republics less dependent on neighboring states, particularly since there are indeed good reasons for this.

In Lieu of a Conclusion

Central Asia is becoming one of the most attractive regions for many of the world’s contemporary states, one of which is the PRC. Central Asia’s energy resources are among the most important factors prompting China’s regional activity, since access to them is becoming increasingly urgent for China’s rapidly growing economy. The PRC’s hydro policy is an extremely effective lever of influence on the Central Asian countries. But it will only be applied as an extreme measure in the event that the geopolitical situation in the region takes an abrupt turn that is unfavorable to China.

59 For more on this matter, see: D. Pisarenko, A. Uglanov, “Sredniuiu Aziiu spaset Luzhkov?” Argumenty i fakty, No. 51, 2002, p. 20. 60 See: “China Informally Approves 4,200-km Gas Pipeline,” Reuters (Beijing), 29 February, 2000. 61 See: I. Amanzholov, “Konfliktnye istoki transgranichnykh rek,” APR Political Research Agency, available at [http:// www.caapr.kz/show.php?kza0502-02.htm], 5 February, 2002. 65 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS CHINA IN CENTRAL ASIA

Vladimir PARAMONOV Ph.D. (Political Science), Independent Expert (Tashkent, Uzbekistan)

Aleksey STROKOV Independent Expert (Tashkent, Uzbekistan)

Oleg STOLPOVSKIY Independent Military Analyst (Tashkent, Uzbekistan)

Introduction

or over a century, or over 130 years to be new reality, establish and then develop dip- more exact, Central Asia remained part of lomatic contacts, build up mutual confi- F the Russian Empire and the Soviet Union dence, create a base of treaties and other which replaced it and was treated by China as such. legal documents, and address the accumu- The sudden disintegration of the Soviet Union into lated security-related problems. independent states confronted Beijing with the need n At the second stage, the mid- and late 1990s, to deal with several of them in Central Asia, which 2000, and the larger part of 2001 (up to the required a new vector of its foreign policy. 9/11 events), Central Asia acquired mecha- The over 20-year-long history of China’s nisms and institutions of multisided coop- policy in Central Asia can be divided into three pe- eration (of which the People’s Republic of riods: China was a part); China was expanding its 1. 1992-1995. economic presence in the region. 2. 1996-2001. n At the third stage, which started on the tragic day of 9/11, China demonstrated inordinate 3. 2001—the present. activity and launched an “offensive” along n At the first stage, in the early 1990s, Beijing all lines clearly determined to take a tighter took its time to acquire a clear idea about the grip on the region.

The First Stage (1992-1995)

Early in the 1990s, China had to disentangle itself from a knot of complicated domestic issues and foreign policy problems. The “third generation” of the Chinese leaders headed by Jiang Zemin

66 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 worked hard to prevent revision of the country’s political system in the extremely adverse international context: the West responded harshly to the Tiananmen events of 1989, which cooled its relations with China; the communist regimes in Eastern Europe collapsed along with the Soviet Union.1 Early in the 1990s, Beijing needed as favorable an international context as possible, as well as a “stability belt” along its borders to push forward the social and economic reforms launched at the turn of the 1980s. On the international scene, China demonstrated caution and flexibility very much in line with the 24 Character Strategy of patriarch of the Chinese reforms Deng Xiaoping.2 This was a “wait-and-see strategy;” a wise move in a disoriented world (and the post-Soviet turmoil): Beijing gained time and a chance to respond with the least losses to the global and regional changes.

China’s Policy

For over 130 years, China recognized Central Asia as a sphere of Russia’s vital interests; it never questioned Russia’s hegemony and never tried to challenge it. The Soviet Union’s disintegration, the newly independent states next to its borders, and Russia’s “withdrawal” (not to say “flight”) from Central Asia caught China unawares. From that time on, Beijing needed a Central Asian policy as part of its foreign policy. For internal and external reasons of a strategic nature and aware of the potentially volatile Cen- tral Asian climate, China refrained for a while from an active or even “offensive” foreign policy course. It moved away as far as it could from the region’s “domestic squabbles” to deal with the more general issues of its relations with the Central Asian states: diplomatic contacts; security issues addressed together with Russia; and coordinated approaches to Uighur separatism. This called for a solid legal basis of bilateral treaties and trust between China and the Central Asian states. With this in mind, China was one of the first to recognize the newly independent states; between 2 and 6 January, 1992, it established diplomatic relations with Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan, and Turkmenistan.

The Institutions

Early in the 1990s, China preferred to deal with the Central Asian countries on a bilateral basis, which laid the foundation for joint activities, created a much better understanding of the situation in each of the countries, and allowed to achieve, at the early stage, good results relating to some of the fundamental problems plaguing the relations between China and the Central Asian states (particularly in the security sphere). Institutional cooperation was launched in October 1992 in Minsk (Belarus) when a united delegation of Russia, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, and China set up a permanent workgroup (the so-

1 Since 1949, when the People’s Republic of China was established, three generations of leaders have replaced each other at the helm: the first generation is associated with Mao Zedong; the second with Deng Xiaoping; the third with Jiang Zemin. In 2002, the fourth generation of leaders headed by Hu Jintao came to power. 2 The Strategy rests on the following postulates: observe calmly; secure our positions; cope with affairs calmly; hide our capacities and bide our time; be good at maintaining a low profile, and never claim leadership (see: P.B. Kamennov, Kitai v XXI v. Globalizatsia interesov bezopasnosti, ed. by G.I. Chufrin, Moscow, 2007, p. 54). 67 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS called 4 + 1 formula) to address the entire set of the security issues; this was the first step toward the interstate alliance that appeared in 1996 as the Shanghai Five.

Security

At the early stage, as soon as China established diplomatic relations with the Central Asian states, it initiated talks on security, which it treated as a crucial issue because of the high level of military presence in the border regions and the mounting Uighur separatism. Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan, two countries with the longest stretches of land border with China and the largest Uighur diasporas in their territories, were its primary partners. In the first half of 1992, Beijing launched bilateral consultations with Almaty and Bishkek on the disputed border stretches; talks on the full range of border issues between China and the joint delegation of Russia, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan began in the fall of the same year. China wanted the regional leaders to guarantee their support of its struggle against Uighur separatism which had come to the fore as one of the most serious national security threats after the Soviet Union’s disintegration (the Uighur diaspora in the Central Asian states was 300-500 thousand strong).

The Economy

Early in the 1990s, economic ties were practically non-existent and were limited to small-scale trade operations. In 1992-1995, annual trade turnover was $350-512 million (see Table 1).

Table 1 China’s Trade with the Central Asian Countries (1992-1995) ($m)

Trade Deliveries from Deliveries from Year Turnover China to Central Asia Central Asia to China

1992 422 276 146

1993 512 244 268

1994 360 235 125

1995 486 285 201

N o t e: The figures are not exact; there is no information on trade turnover between China and Turkmenistan and China and Tajikistan. The general idea, however, is not distorted because the volume of trade between China and the two countries was insignificant.

S o u r c e: Asian Development Bank with reference to the national statistics boards (Key Indicators of Developing Asian and Pacific Countries, Asian Development Bank, 2002).

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It should be said that trade (so-called shuttle trade included) was limited to Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan, which had reliable transport connections with China. Chinese goods were then re-exported to the other Central Asian countries and Russia.

China’s Policy Summed Up

With no clear idea about its interests in Central Asia, the results of China’s efforts to establish relations with the local states in the early 1990s proved contradictory. On the one hand, Beijing was moving ahead; it laid the foundation for these relations, which had to be started from scratch. On the other hand, in the first half of the decade China demonstrated a lot of caution; it did not show an interest in institutional and economic cooperation with the newly independent states. The far from simple international context in which China found itself at the time forced it to maintain good relations with Russia, which slowed down its progress in the Central Asian direction.3

Central Asian Policy

Early in the 1990s, the Central Asian states realized that cooperation with China, one of the largest regional (and nuclear) powers, could not be avoided. The People’s Republic of China was one of the first to recognize the sovereignty of the Central Asian republics and establish diplomatic relations with them. At that time, the Central Asian countries, however, did not look at the People’s Republic of China as their foreign policy priority for several reasons. n First, because the process of statehood development and economic transformations turned out to be torturous; the regional states expected support from Russia,4 the West, and the more developed and culturally close Islamic states. In this company, China did not look like a promising partner; its economy was still weak and its development model far from enticing. n Second, Beijing’s insistent desire to find partners in Central Asia looked too suspicious; the local states feared demographic and territorial expansion; the memory of the far-from-simple relations with this country in the 1960s-1970s was still alive. n Third, during the period of developing of sovereignties and the “honeymoon” with the West and the Islamic world, the Central Asian countries preferred to get rid of socialist ideology, while in China the Communist Party was still in power.

3 In the early post-Soviet years China needed normal relations with Russia to acquire a reliable “strategic rear” and to settle disputed, especially border, issues. Russia, in turn, needed stable and predictable relations with China (their common border is nearly 4,300 km long). In many respects, it was “the sides’ constructive determination to cooperate that allowed Beijing and Moscow to settle the most painful issues of bilateral relations at the very beginning of the 1990s” (G.I. Chufrin, Problemy bezopasnosti vo vneshnei politike Kitaia, Institute of World Economy and International Relations RAS, Moscow, 2005, pp. 148-149). 4 It was inertia rather than conscious choice; the situation in Russia was far from favorable. 69 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

This explains why in the early 1990s the regional states were engrossed in their domestic problems caused by the Soviet Union’s disintegration; they had not yet acquired mechanisms of a concep- tual perception of the world outside their borders. China was still not a priority.

***

On the whole, in the early 1990s China was moving cautiously toward closer relations with the Central Asian countries which, in turn, were busy, along with Russia, sorting out the problems they inherited from the Soviet Union. This kind of foreign policy proved the most reasonable; China laid the foundations of partnership with Russia and the Central Asian countries and created prerequisites for its broader presence in the post-Soviet expanse.

The Second Stage (1996-2001)

In the latter half of the 1990s, Beijing, under the pressure of the Taiwan-related aggravations (1995-1996), another bout of Chinese-American confrontation, and the financial crisis in Southeast Asia (1997-1998), had to revise some of the principally important elements of its foreign policy. Prob- ably for the same reason, the Chinese leaders concluded that an important economic breakthrough was impossible without an active or even “offensive” foreign policy; otherwise, the country was running the risk of becoming too vulnerable in the age of globalization and the unipolar world under the American aegis. In the latter half of the 1990s, therefore, China’s main foreign policy priority was to develop and implement new approaches aimed at “acquiring the status of a great power which structuralizes the international system rather than merely responds to the processes underway on the international area.”5 By the mid- and late 1990s, Beijing was successfully combining domestic and foreign policy tasks. Its foreign policy was expected “not merely to passively preserve external conditions favorable for the reforms but to actively cut short all attempts to interfere in China’s development.”6 This means that China had to find allies and demonstrate more vigor in building up and strengthening international alliances and multisided institutions in which it could claim the leading role.

China’s Policy

In the latter half of the 1990s, China, guided by global and long-term considerations, demonstrated much more activity in Central Asia and abandoned its “wait-and-see” policy for a “strategy of gradual penetration” into the region. Moreover, it was very much concerned about the security, social, and economic developments along its Central Asian border.

5 M. Mamonov, “Strategia ‘profilaktiki opasnosti’ vo vneshney politike KNR,” Mezhdunarodnye protsessy (Russia), No. 3 (15), September-December 2007, available at [http://www.intertrends.ru/fifteen/003.htm]. 6 Ibidem. 70 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

The Chinese leaders were fully aware of the fact that their Central Asian neighbors were easy prey for international terrorists, Islamic radicals and extremists, drug traffickers, and other transnational threats. In the latter half of the 1990s, the never-ending turmoil in Afghanistan stirred up religious extremists, terrorists, and nationalists in the Central Asian countries. Beijing was especially concerned about the rising wave of Uighur separatism; extremist groups had developed a taste for terrorism and became much more active on both sides of the border. The considerable oil and gas resources in Central Asia and the Caspian confirmed in the mid- 1990s added to the region’s value; China needed energy resources for its growing economy. Its long- term interest in the region and the adjacent areas needed to be defined in clearer terms. Its geographical proximity to the central and western provinces of the PRC7 suggested that Central Asia and its resources should be used to realize a program of accelerated development of these parts of China. Beijing counted on the region’s resources and raw materials, as well as the Central Asian markets to stir up economic growth of its “national fringes.”

The Institutions

In 1996, Beijing relied on the tested 4 + 1 mechanism to initiate, together with Moscow, the Shanghai Five, a new structure of regional cooperation in the security sphere. It included China, Russia. Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and Tajikistan; in 2001, it was transformed into the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO) with Uzbekistan as its sixth member.

Security

The ever-increasing impact of transnational threats forced China to specify its cooperation with the Central Asian countries. By the late 1990s, the special services and law enforcers had already been cooperating; the much more vehement activities of the Uighur separatists in Xinjiang and in some of the Central Asian countries made this cooperation doubly important for China. The failed attempts of the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan (IMU) to break through into Uz- bekistan and Kyrgyzstan in 1999 and 2000 convinced China to extend its military-technical assistance to the Central Asian states, which soon developed into partnership. This means that by the end of the 1990s, Beijing (very much like Moscow) became a guarantor of sorts of the regional security system taking shape in Central Asia.

The Economy

In the latter half of the 1990s, economic relations between China and Central Asia acquired a fresh impetus; China widened its presence in the Central Asian markets, which is best illustrated by

7 By the mid-1980s, it had become obvious that some of the regions were lagging behind in the social, economic, and political respects, which fanned separatism 71 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS the large volumes of trade with China’s former partners Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan and with Uz- bekistan. In 1996-2000, China’s trade turnover with the Central Asian countries nearly doubled compared to the first half of the 1990s to reach the $580-1,050 million (see Table 2).

Table 2 China’s Trade with the Central Asian Countries (1996-2000) ($m)

Trade Deliveries from Deliveries from Year Turnover China to Central Asia Central Asia to China

1996 674* 357* 317*

1997 699* 365* 334*

1998 588 390 198

1999 733 350 383

2000 1,041 611 430

N o t e: The figures marked as (*) are not exact; there are no information available for trade between China and Turkmenistan and China and Tajikistan in 1996 and 1997, which does not distort the general picture; the figures for these years can be safely ignored as insignificant.

S o u r c e: Asian Development Bank with reference to the national statistics boards (Key Indicators of Developing Asian and Pacific Countries, Asian Development Bank, 2002).

In its trade with the Central Asian countries, China moved rapidly toward the formula “raw materials in exchange for finished products:” the Central Asian states exported their energy resources, chemical and textile raw materials (lint and seed cotton and hides), metals and scrape metal. It should be said that their exports were largely responsible for the economic development of China’s central and western provinces. The Central Asian countries imported consumer goods, which saturated the consumer markets of some of the regional states. While developing its trade contacts, China revealed, for the first time, its interest in oil production in Kazakhstan and its transportation. In 1996, it contributed to the oil production project in the Aktyubinsk Region (Western Kazakhstan); this can be described as China’s first and highly successful attempt at developing relations with Central Asia in the energy sphere. In 1997, President of Kazakhstan Nursultan Nazarbaev and Premier of PRC Li Peng signed an agreement on the Atasu-Alashankou oil pipeline; the share of the China National Petroleum Corpora- tion (CNPC) in the project was 60 percent. China began showing a greater interest in transport routes between Xinjiang and Central Asia; highways and the China-Kyrgyzstan-Uzbekistan railway were expected to invigorate the economy of Xinjiang.

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China’s Policy Summed Up

In the latter half of the 1990s, China’s determined and active policy in Central Asia became much clearer. Aware of its still fairly limited capabilities, China placed the stakes on its cooperation with Russia (which likewise needed strategic cooperation with China); the sides formulated relatively similar approaches to the regional security issues. Beijing’s greater involvement in the region produced dubious results. On the one hand, it can be described as a breakthrough in practically all the key sectors. On the other, it created a lopsided structure of economic cooperation—raw materials in exchange for finished products—because China preferred to invest and be involved in the raw material sectors and their related transportation infrastructure (“taking away raw materials” and “bringing in finished products”). In the 1990s, China did not have enough money to develop the XUAR, to say nothing of Central Asia; it was still not ready to become a driving force behind the region’s economic development.

Central Asian Policy

In the latter half of the 1990s, the Central Asian states displayed much more interest in the Chi- nese vectors of their foreign policy for several reasons. n First, the mounting negative trends caused by domestic problems and the instability in Af- ghanistan forced the regional countries to seek a guarantor of their security outside the region. China, which displayed a lot of interest, looked like the best option. Russia was still weak militarily and economically to say nothing of its erratic policies. n Second, the habitual flow of consumer goods from Russia and other post-Soviet republics had petered out, which meant that Central Asia had to import more and more consumer goods from China; the quality was relative low, but the prices were affordable. Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan were much more interested in trade with China than their Central Asian neighbors. These two countries not merely filled their markets with cheap “made in China” goods, but also earned money by re-exporting them to the rest of the region (mainly to Uzbekistan) and some of the Russian regions. The two republics stimulated imports from China and encouraged “shuttle trade.” n Third, the Central Asian countries learned to look at China as a promising investor. In 1997, Astana signed a contract with China on an oil pipeline to bring fuel to the XUAR and began designing it in 1998 to attract Chinese money into oil and gas production and transportation projects.

***

On the whole, the period between mid-1990s and 2001 marked a turning point in the relations between China and the Central Asian states. Beijing, which had finally identified its regional priorities, showed a lot of determination and consistency when realizing them; it never demonstrated its political ambitions and, on the whole, concentrated on regional security and its own economic interests.

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It also stepped up its cooperation with Russia, which was especially obvious in the security sphere; by the late 1990s, however, Beijing no longer accepted Russia’s right to domination in Central Asia and treated it as an equal partner.

The Third Stage (2001—the present)

Early in the 21st century, Beijing responded to the post-9/11 international instability and the mounting military-political and economic impact of the United States and its closest allies with a readjusted, much more vigorous, and even offensive foreign policy designed to defend its national interests. Seen from Beijing, the military operations in Afghanistan and Iraq and America’s rapidly expanding presence in direct proximity to China looked like potential mechanisms of military-political pressure on it. In these conditions, China identified the balance of power along its borders and in the zones of its exclusive interests as its main strategic goal. These changes and the foreign policy readjustments in China the changes invoked coincided with the transfer of political power to a new political elite, the so-called fourth generation of leaders headed by Hu Jintao.8 In fact, the new leaders merely adjusted their foreign policy to the much stronger state (in both the military and economic respects) they had inherited from the third generation leadership.

China’s Policy

In the new, post-9/11 world, Central Asia was no longer a periphery, but a strategically important region which China treated as a priority on a par with its other foreign policy efforts on the global scale. China’s rapidly developing economy created an acute need for guaranteed access to the region’s raw materials (oil and gas in particular) and its transit potential. In this context, Washington’s determination to adjust Central Asia to its political, economic, and military needs was seen as a serious obstacle. Beijing responded by strengthening the SCO and encouraging bilateral contacts; its growing economy allowed it to pour money into all sorts of projects (economic in particular) and to help the regional social-political systems maintain their stability.

The Institutions

Beijing, which relied on the SCO to monitor Central Asian developments and prevent the emergence of an anti-Chinese alliance, needed a closely-knit structure with a better international image

8 This transfer took several years to be prepared and accomplished. In 1998, Hu Jintao, who was 16 years younger than then leader Jiang Zemin, was moved to the second-important post of Deputy Chairman of the PRC. A year later he added the post of Deputy Chairman of the Central Military Commission of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of China to his previous position; in November 2002, the 16th National Congress of the Communist Party of China elected him General Secretary of the CPC instead of Jiang Zemin. 74 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 and a much more attractive economic record. New members were seen as a possible option; together with Russia, China initiated Mongolia’s membership (which joined in 2004 as an observer), and a year later Iran, Pakistan, and India joined with the same status.9 The widening ranks expanded the sphere of international cooperation. In 2004, the SCO acquired the Regional Anti-Terrorist Structure (RATS) with its Executive Committee in Tashkent; several years later, it acquired a Business Council and the Interbank SCO Council (both dominated by China) expected to coordinate investment and business efforts in all sorts of economic projects. In 2006 and later, Beijing came forward with an initiative designed to invigorate economic cooperation between the SCO members (a free trade area and a regional transportation infrastructure among other things). It became an active supporter of WTO membership for the SCO members in expectation of seeing a much more active exchange of commodities and services inside the Or- ganization.

Security

The regional ambiguity created by the American military bases in Central Asia did not discour- age China; it insisted on its earlier course of much wider cooperation with the local states in the security sphere inside the SCO and outside it, on a bilateral basis. In 2004, China and the Central Asian states began demonstrating a lot of activity within RATS. The number of joint projects increased considerably thanks to China’s ability to correlate the level, intensity, and scope of cooperation in the security sphere with the large-scale economic projects being implemented in the regional countries.

The Economy

The Chinese policy of building up its regional presence was manifested in the much higher trade, investment, and borrowing figures. Between 2001 and 2008, trade turnover between China and Central Asia increased almost 13- 14-fold to reach approximately $20.2 billion; in 2009, however, under the pressure of the world financial and economic crisis, the figures decreased, which was probably a temporary process (see Table 3). Very much as before, the Central Asian countries continue selling their raw materials to China, while China is consolidating its role of an exporter of finished goods. In 2008, raw materials accounted for 91% in the total volume of Central Asian supplies to China (energy resources accounted for 68% of the total volume of raw materials sold to China); ferrous and non-ferrous metals for about 15%; chemical raw materials for about 6%; and textile raw materials for about 2%. China has been increasing its investment and lending activities in the most important economic segments. While in the late 1990s, China’s financial resources in Central Asia were under $1 billion and were concentrated in the oil and gas industry of Kazakhstan, in the first eight years of the 21st

9 In 2006, Belarus’ request for observer status was declined as coming from a non-Asian country. In June 2009, the Ekaterinburg SCO Summit granted, for the first time, a dialog partner status to Sri Lanka and Belarus. 75 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

Table 3 China’s Trade with the Central Asian Countries (2001-2009) ($m)

Trade Deliveries from Deliveries from Year Turnover China to Central Asia Central Asia to China

2001 1,478* 856* 622*

2002 2,798* 1,569* 1,229*

2003 3,305 (4,100) 1,911 1,394

2004 4,337 (5,848) 2,545 1,792

2005 6,630 (10,294) 3,982 2,648

2006 10,796 (13,350) 6,338 4,458

2007 16,038 (20,576) 9,571 6,467

2008 20,170 (27,845) 11,553 8,617

2009 17,721 (23,648) 10,878 6,843

N o t e: The figures marked as (*) are not exact; there are no information available for trade between China and Tajikistan, which does not distort the general picture; the figures for these years can be safely ignored as insignificant.

S o u r c e s: The figures for 2000-2001, Asian Development Bank with reference to the national statistics boards (Key Indicators of Developing Asian and Pacific Countries, Asian Development Bank, 2002); the figures for 2002-2009, The Economist Intelligence Unit with reference to the national statistics boards (Kazakhstan: Country Report, The Economist Intelligence Unit, London, June 2003, June 2004, June 2005, June 2006, June 2007, June 2008, March 2009, March 2010; Kyrgyzstan: Country Report, The Economist Intelligence Unit, London, June 2003, June 2004, June 2005, June 2006, June 2007, June 2008, March 2009, March 2010; Tajikistan: Country Report, The Economist Intelligence Unit, London, June 2003, June 2004, June 2005, June 2006, June 2007, June 2008, March 2009, March 2010; Turkmenistan: Country Report, The Economist Intelligence Unit, London, June 2003, June 2004, June 2005, June 2006, June 2007, June 2008, March 2009, March 2010; Uzbekistan: Country Report, The Economist Intelligence Unit, London, June 2003, June 2004, June 2005, June 2006, June 2007, June 2008, March 2009, March 2010); the figures in brackets for 2003-2009 were supplied by the Ministry of Commerce of the PRC. century, they increased over 18-fold to reach approximately $18 billion (about $9.6 billion in direct investments, $2.3 billion in loans, and $6.3 billion in assets) by the beginning of 2009 (according to our calculations).

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Despite the world financial crisis, China has stepped up its financial and economic involvement in Central Asia in the form of loans10; it has also been buying up assets in the key economic branches.

China’s Policy Summed Up

Its foreign policy offensive in the wake 9/11 allowed China to fortify its position to a great extent; however in the context of the long-term interests of both sides, the results can still be described as dubious. On the one hand, the much stronger position of the SCO, which has become a multidimensional institution of inter-state cooperation, can be described as a breakthrough that enabled China to be directly, and most important, legally involved in the Central Asian developments and become one of the main guarantors of the regional security system still in the process of formation. On the other, the format of economic relations inherited from the 1990s remains the same, i.e. “raw materials in exchange for finished products.” Moreover, the Chinese, who are concentrating on the raw material spheres and tend to avoid, on the whole, industrial innovations, perpetuate the present arrangement of regional cooperation.

Central Asian Policy

Early in the 21st century, all the Central Asian countries concentrated on the Chinese vector of their foreign policies, probably because the SCO had consolidated and developed its influence. Russia is still the key partner, but cooperation with China has supplied the Central Asian states with a diplomatic leeway when dealing with Moscow and Beijing. The regional states are especially interested in wider cooperation with China in the economic sphere; Kazakhstan has moved further than its neighbors in this direction. Astana and Beijing agreed on a mechanism for funding several large-scale projects in the oil and gas sphere and, most important, other key segments of the national economy: metallurgy, telecommunication, and information technology. The leaders of Turkmenistan look at China as their priority economic partner; in December 2009, the first branch of the Turkmenistan-China gas pipeline (across Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan) was completed; in 2010, it started moving natural gas to China. Economic cooperation between China and Uzbekistan is progressing, particularly in the oil and gas sphere. Tashkent’s efforts to tempt Chinese investors with a wide-scale privatization program of large economic facilities have so far failed. Today, very much as before, Kyrgyzstan is satisfied with the role of a transit country of Chinese commodities.

10 In April 2009, the President of Kazakhstan’s visit to Beijing produced an agreement on a loan of $10 billion, $5 billion of which went to the oil and gas sector of Kazakhstan (to the leading oil and gas corporation KazMunayGaz, to be more exact). In June of the same year, China signed an agreement on an additional targeted loan to Turkmenistan of $3 billion to develop the country’s largest gas field Iuzhny Iolotan. In June 2009, at the Ekaterinburg SCO Summit, Chair- man Hu Jintao announced that his country had decided to extend the Central Asian SCO members an unprecedentedly large loan of $10 billion to support their national economies during the global financial and economic crisis. 77 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

Tajikistan regards China as a source of money; its own capabilities are too limited, while its hopes of attracting Russian money on a big scale have so far been deceived.

Conclusions

The People’s Republic of China remains determined to become a great power. This means that Chinese diplomacy should work hard to create adequate external conditions, a task in which Central Asia is destined to play an important role. In the 1990s, Beijing demonstrated a lot of caution on the international arena and coordinated what it was doing with Moscow; on the whole, China preferred to remain within certain limits in the region. In the first decade of the 21st century, Central Asia moved to the center of China’s foreign policy; the events which changed the world made China’s regional policy more assertive. The fourth generation leadership in China made Beijing’s Central Asian policy even more vigorous, ambitious, and pragmatic and much more determined to defend national interests. The new Chinese leaders were less inclined to follow Russia’s lead when acting in Central Asia; likewise, they could not ignore the mounting influence of the United States and its allies in the region.11 At the same time, Chinese policy in Central Asia is not free of certain faults; the Chinese still regard the region as a raw material appendage. China’s stepped-up presence in the region is explained by its growing involvement in projects (particularly in the raw material sphere) and investments in pipelines and transportation infrastructure (needed to transport raw materials) and its financial and political cooperation with the same aims in view. It is hard to say what will come of this activity in the region. On the one hand, the place and role of the PRC in the world, its considerable economic scope, and the dynamic development of practically every industrial branch suggest that China can serve as a driving force behind the region’s economic and innovational development. Central Asia can become an important stretch of Eurasian land transit and an important link of China’s geopolitical and geo- economic cooperation with other centers of power and economic blocs. On the other hand, China’s development is not free of considerable problems, which means that another, much more pragmatic, and even egoistical model is also possible. China will be tapping the region’s raw material base to the full in order to develop its inland territories (in the west and the center) and maintain economic contacts and transport communications. The SCO system of relations taking shape is primarily geared toward Chinese interests. This approach, which is coming to the fore in Beijing’s strategies, deprives Central Asia of the hope of restoring its former status of a bridge between Europe and Asia; it dooms inner Eurasia to even greater economic and geographic isolation and persistent lagging behind the developed countries and regions. This scenario threatens the security of Central Asia, China, and Russia. Indeed, destabilization of the local states will create an extremely shaky situation on the borders of Russia and China.

11 It seems that the previous generations of Chinese politicians (Deng Xiaoping and Jiang Zemin) were much more attentive to Russia’s interests than the fourth generation of leaders. The older generation acquired its political ideas before the 1960s when China and the Soviet Union were still allies. Their country was relatively weaker than the U.S.S.R. in the military and economic respect. The new political elite grew up during the period of cool (not to say antagonistic) relations with the Soviet Union. Their ideas about the world are free of any Russia-centrist component. Today, the Chinese economy is much stronger than the Russian, while in the military respect, China is not weaker than the Russian Federation. 78 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

To ensure long-term stability in the region and around it and add consistency to the relations between China and the Central Asian states, Beijing should concentrate on establishing multidimensional and mutually advantageous cooperation with Central Asia and Russia. China should start with its all-round support of economic reintegration inside the region and/or across the post-Soviet expanse (within the EurAsEC, for example) and gradual integration within the SCO at the later stages. As the Central Asian leaders, as well as their Chinese and Russian colleagues, become gradually convinced that there is no alternative to cooperation, a new stage of China’s regional policy will begin. This will also establish progressive and mutually advantageous cooperation between the sides involved in the heart of Eurasia.

U.S. MIDDLE EASTERN POLICY: NEW APPROACHES AND OLD PROBLEMS

Vladimir KARYAKIN Ph.D. (Military Sciences), Senior Fellow at the Department of Defense Policy, Russian Institute for Strategic Studies (Moscow, Russia)

Introduction

n the last decade, when operating outside its The interconnected threats called for ade- borders, the United States has mainly been quate measures; as a first step, President Obama I opposing the geopolitical challenges Presi- appointed Richard Holbrooke his Special Repre- dent Obama inherited from his predecessor; this sentative for Afghanistan and Pakistan; George is primarily true of the Middle East. Mitchell, Special Envoy for the Middle East, and From the very beginning, the president-elect Dennis Ross, advisor on Iran. outlined America’s political priorities in this vol- This and considerable funding of military and atile region of the world. He shifted the accents other spheres did nothing to make Washington’s from ending the war in Iraq to Afghanistan where Middle Eastern policy more consistent; so far it he promised to increase his country’s military remains ambiguous in the Iranian vector as well. contingent, strengthen the law-enforcement and During 2009, for example, Washington administrative structures and involve Pakistan in twice changed its mind about the numerical the anti-Taliban struggle. strength of its military contingent in Afghanistan; The Iranian nuclear file was treated as anan announcement about its increase was followed other serious threat to U.S. security. by a decision to pull out in 2011.

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This shows that the incumbent president is through together with the illusions about Ameri- trying to resolve this strategically important prob- ca’s ability to succeed. lem before the end of his presidential term. The So far, Barack Obama’s Cairo Speech can Administration still has no idea about how to be described as the only triumph of America’s achieve “correct” relations with Islamabad, even Middle Eastern policy. Speaking at Cairo Uni- though the situation in Afghanistan and Pakistan versity, the president said in particular: “I have calls for interrelated policies to be pursued on both unequivocally prohibited the use of torture by the sides of their common border. United States, and I have ordered the prison at In 2009-2010, the situation in Iraq stabi- Guantanamo Bay closed by early next year.” And lized to the extent that in the last days of George further: “I’ve come here to Cairo to seek a new W. Bush’s presidency, his Administration an- beginning between the United States and Mus- nounced that a gradual troop withdrawal was not lims around the world;” he assured the audience far away. that his Administration had dropped the term The events of 2009 and the first half of 2010, “war on terror” coined by the previous adminis- however, showed that security in Iraq is fragile to tration. say the least and, without an acceptable domestic This did nothing to improve America’s im- political balance, it will continue deteriorating age around the world; sociological polls in pro- until the day of America’s final pull-out (some- American countries (Egypt, Jordan, Pakistan, and time in 2011) arrives. Turkey) revealed that the approval rate had American diplomacy has failed to make any dropped below 30 percent. perceptible progress on the Iranian nuclear issue; It should be said in all justice that new ap- the crisis will escalate, which will probably force proaches to Afghanistan, Pakistan, and Iran re- President Obama to make consequential political mained pending not only because the problems decisions. inherited from the previous administration defied Washington’s efforts to settle the Palestin- resolution, but also because the world financial ian-Israeli conflict and, in particular, to hold talks and economic crisis complicated the situation at with Israel about the Jewish settlements fell home.

From Iraq to Afghanistan

From his first days in the White House, President Obama has been very open about the two wars started by the previous administration and paid for by the American taxpayers (nearly $1 trillion in the last two years). The counterterrorist operation in Afghanistan was triggered by 9/11, while invasion of Iraq (sanctioned by President George W. Bush) was a “war by choice.” Barack Obama is convinced that both wars did nothing to improve the image of his country in the Muslim world; so far, the threats of al-Qa‘eda and the Taliban remain unproved. The steadily increasing amount of financial and other resources poured into the Iraqi campaign undermined the counterterrorist operation in Afghanistan. President Obama confirmed his election promises to shift the efforts from Iraq to Afghanistan. In 2009, a new settlement strategy for Afghanistan appeared; it was expected that by late 2010 the contingent would double to reach 100 thousand troops. This made the Afghan war the new Amer- ican president’s personal responsibility. The eight years of the Enduring Freedom Operation and eviction of the Taliban did not add stability to the situation: the insurgents moved in to control a large part of the territory in the south and the east.

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It took a lot of time to build up the local security forces, which explains the coalition’s casualties. In 2009, it lost 519 soldiers, 316 of them being American, the highest figure since the beginning of the war (or nearly one-third of the coalition’s total losses since 2001). This situation looks very much like what was going on in Iraq in 2006-2007. Unlike Iraq, Afghanistan has no ethnic or confessional dividing lines; the Taliban-led insurgents armed with a blend of Pashtoon nationalism and militant Islamism oppose the foreign military presence and the pro-American government. The country has no strong state structures; it is living amid a permanent civil war (which has been going on for nearly thirty years now) waged by different groups of armed people; the living standards of the majority (particularly in the countryside) is low, while the middle class and the intelligentsia are small. The mountainous terrain, bad roads, and unsafe transportation make fighting in Afghanistan very hard indeed. This notwithstanding, President Obama is resolved to go to the end, adding 17 thousand troops to the American contingent in Afghanistan and dispatching 4 thousand military instructors (within the framework of the first Strategic Review of March 2009). This was done on the eve of the new operations against the Taliban and accelerated training of the local security forces to make the Afghan government more efficient in the center and the provinces and in the hope of integrating some of the warlords into the country’s political structure. Obama described the Taliban’s increased clout and stepped up terrorist activities in Pakistan as the two main blocks on the road toward the settlement; America expanded the geography of its military operations, which requires a new strategy applied to both countries. New strategic thinking became indispensable in May 2009 when newly appointed commander General S. McChrystal reported that seen from the inside the situation in Afghanistan looked much worse than when seen from Washington. It became clear that the war on the Taliban would require considerable resources. The presidential election in Afghanistan caused a lot of headache in Washington: the election of August 2009, when Hamid Karzai won in the first round, proved to be too dishonest to be accepted as legitimate; Abdullah Abdullah, the opposition candidate, had to withdraw from the race. On 2 December, 2009, when speaking at West Point Military Academy, President Obama made public the long expected strategic decision. This ended the fierce debates between those who together with General McChrystal insisted on the use of force against the insurgents and those who wanted to concentrate on al-Qa‘eda. It should be said that further enlargement of America’s presence in Afghanistan, which envisaged adding another 30 thousand troops and several hundred civilian experts, went beyond the Stra- tegic Review of March 2009. Larger military contingents were expected to turn the tide in the war on the Taliban; the modi- fied American strategy designed to fight the insurgents concentrated on defending the key settlements, carrying out accelerated training of efficient security forces, and promoting more capable Afghan state institutions. Political settlement was pushed to the backburner; the country’s political infrastructure had to be geared toward public security and political stability. President Obama announced that in 2011 America would gradually begin pulling out its troops, which means that time is short and the schedule tight. The following two features can be described as the highlights of the U.S.’s 2009 strategy in Afghanistan: (1) “Crawling Americanization:” despite the fairly large U.S.’s allies’ military contingent in Afghanistan the American share is steadily rising—Washington is obviously resolved to remain the coalition’s leader.

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(2) “Afghanization” of the war: there is an obvious trend toward setting up efficient Afghan security and defense structures to confront the Taliban on their own. America’s huge national debt and its domestic problems caused by the financial and economic crisis have forced President Obama, who is moving toward another presidential campaign, to avoid excessive military spending in Afghanistan and American casualties. A settlement is much less probable in Afghanistan than in Iraq; the Americans are facing a di- lemma: either to stay put in the Hindu Kush Mountains or to allow the Taliban and al-Qa‘eda to triumph on an international scale.

Pakistan: Moving Ahead Amid Domestic Uncertainties

Pakistan’s counterterrorist operation in the border areas, an obviously important factor of Obama’s Middle Eastern strategy, is one of Washington’s great diplomatic victories. President Obama said the following about the remote areas of the Pakistani border that are beyond the reach of Islamabad’s control and used as a safe haven by al-Qa‘eda and other armed Islamic groups: “For the American people, this border region has become the most dangerous place in the world.” This makes Pakistan “Achilles’ heel” of America’s Afghan strategy, but the fact that Islamabad is resolved to remain Washington’s strategic ally with financial and military aid attached to the status means that the two countries are pursuing the same goals and share the same interests. Throughout the last few decades, the Pakistani army and intelligence (ISI) have demonstrated tolerance toward militant and armed Islamists and even unofficially cooperated with them; these military structures helped the Taliban to become successfully established in Afghanistan after the Soviet pull-out and the downfall of the Najibullah government. In the 1990s, Pakistan, an important Cold-War ally of the United States, found itself abandoned (in the strategic respect); sanctions were applied against the country, which had a uranium enrichment program. At that time, Islamabad was pursuing its regional interests by establishing closer relations with the Taliban in power in Afghanistan and the Islamic militants who used Pakistan’s territory. Today, confrontation and rivalry with India constitutes the key aspect of Pakistan’s political culture. In the wake of 9/11, the United States, in preparation for the counterterrorist operation, had to lift the sanctions and extend its military assistance; this restored their allied relations. At Washington’s request, Pervez Musharraf, the military dictator who ruled the country from 1999 to 2008, helped the American military to fight the groups of insurgents. The Pakistani army and ISI never broke their ties with the Taliban and other Islamist groups in the hope of relying on them to trim India’s influence in Afghanistan and Kashmir. Military and financial aid to Pakistan continued after the last elections in the United States; the new president even wanted to make wider use of drones to locate and destroy insurgents and al-Qa‘eda and Taliban leaders in the safe haven of the border areas. To balance out military and economic cooperation and encourage Zardari’s civilian Cabinet, Washington increased the volumes of non-military aid and extended its partnership relations with Pakistan. Several drone attacks destroyed some of the key Taliban and al-Qa‘eda figures, but the side- effects proved unacceptable: anti-Americanism among the Pakistanis intensified. The top figures in

82 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 the Army looked askance at Washington’s support to the civilian government, which they interpreted as an effort to tip the balance in favor of the civilians. The decision of the top Pakistani military to move against the militants in the border areas can be described as an impressive achievement for Washington in implementing its antiterrorist strategy. The military operations of the Pakistani troops in Swat Valley and Southern Waziristan complicated the situation inside the country. The Islamists launched military operations against the state; in Rawalpindi they held the army headquarters under siege for nearly 24 hours. In 2009, there were 87 suicide terrorist attacks which killed 1,300 people (a total of 12,600 fell victim to terrorist acts). It should be said that Islamabad was fairly selective in its military operations: it aimed at Bait- ullah Mehsud and his troops, which formed part of the Taliban and fought together with al-Qa‘eda (they are believed to be responsible for most of the terrorist attacks in Pakistan). No matter how hard Washington tried to channel the army and ISI against the Afghan Taliban and the units unrelated to Mehsud, it failed. President Obama’s decision to begin pulling troops out of Afghanistan in 2011 will affect relations between Islamabad and the Afghan Taliban, which in the past had fortified Pakistan’s position in its confrontation with India. The rivalry between India and Pakistan for influence in Afghanistan will increase together with America’s shrinking military presence there. Today, Pakistan is being drawn into the U.S.’s political orbit, but Washington does not have unlimited pressure on its government; further deterioration of the situation inside the country will shift the emphasis from al-Qa‘eda to the country’s nuclear safety. This means that so far the U.S. Admin- istration has not balanced out its interests in Afghanistan and political stability in Pakistan.

Iraq: Will the Americans Remove Their Troops?

Today, the situation in Iraq can be described as relatively normal (at least compared with the crisis regions of the Middle East); Washington is no longer riveted to this country for at least two reasons: n first, the successful operations in 2007 and 2008, division of the country’s capital into confessional districts, and support extended by the Sunnis Awaken public movement considerably decreased the level of violence in the country; n second, the positive developments allowed President Obama to concentrate on new measures designed to stabilize the situation; the new administration was able to draw on the political capital the George W. Bush Administration earned in its last months in power. The Nouri al-Maliki government insisted that the U.N. mandate on continued international military presence in the country should not be extended after 2008, however President Bush achieved a far-reaching consensus; late in 2008 the Status of Forces Agreement in Iraq was en- dorsed. A pull-out schedule, likewise, was adopted, under which all international military units were expected to leave the cities and settlements by 30 June, 2009 and the rest of the territory by the end of 2011. Under the plan adopted on 27 February, 2009, some American military units (about 50 thousand) will remain in the country until the end of 2011 to train the Iraqi security forces.

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This does not mean that all the other problems have been resolved; real stability is still far away: security requires deep-cutting political changes, while the country must find its new national identity outside America’s orbit. Today, the relations between the Kurds and Arabs remain tense. There are still the unresolved problems of Kurdish independence, use of the oil fields in the Kurdish areas, and delimitation of administrative powers. From time to time, the confrontation is leading to large-scale terrorist acts against the government; the 19 August, 8 September, and 15 October explosions killed over 350. These events, though unrelated to al-Qa‘eda, Sunni extremists, or neo-BAASist groups, might develop into a full-scale civilian conflict; they undermine the faith in the government’s ability to preserve security in the country. It should be said that if the Shi‘a-Kurdish government fails to integrate the former Sunni insurgents in the country’s political and social context, the number of potential terrorists will start to grow again. The problems described above—the regime’s slow political transformation and the sporadic violence in the country where there are several regional players—might become even more urgent as the date of America’s final pull-out approaches. President Obama’s response to any possible deterioration in Iraq is hard to predict; today the White House’s attention is riveted on Afghanistan and Pakistan and America’s increased military presence there. It seems that even if Nouri al-Maliki tries to retain the American troops in his country under various pretexts after 2011, he is unlikely to succeed. In view of the upcoming presidential elections in the United States, President Obama, who can run for a second term, will hardly hail such requests. The United States, however, will not let Iraq out of its sight (irrespective of the planned pull- out); the White House is resolved to keep the country (at least for the near future) as the center of its influence in the Middle East.

Iran: Are there Limits to Confrontation?

The United States has already revised its Iranian policy. President Obama is prepared to talk to Tehran. This means that he has distanced himself from some of the demands of the Six (the U.S., Russia, China, the U.K., France, and Germany) related to uranium enrichment. It was expected that American diplomats would be involved even though the previous Admin- istration had been dead set against this possibility. The change in America’s stand on the Iranian nuclear file notwithstanding, another nuclear crisis flared up in 2010 largely fed by President Obama’s ambiguous policies pursued at the rhetoric and practical levels. At the rhetorical level, there were at least three letters to the Iranian leaders and several public addresses in which President Obama invited the Iranian leaders to “reset” relations and recognized Iran’s right to peaceful nuclear research. The letters said, in particular, that the United States was not pursuing a regime change in the country. Ahmadinejad was called upon to act as a responsible leader to find his country a worthy place on the international arena. Moreover, President Obama was the first American president to admit that his country had been involved in deposing the democratic regime of Mohammed Mosaddeq in Iran in 1953. At the practical level, however, in 2009 the United States was even more eager than before to enlist international support for new sanctions against Iran. At the same time, Iran was invited to the conference

84 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 on Afghanistan in March 2009. In October 2009, Foreign Minister of Iran Manouchehr Mottaki received permission to visit the sector of Iranian interests at the Embassy of Pakistan in Washington. It should be said that the United States, in turn, refused to open a sector of their interests in Tehran even though the issue had been discussed for some months with the Bush Administration. As could be expected, Iran rejected the “olive branch” and announced that its nuclear file could be discussed if and when the economic sanctions were lifted. The Iranian political elite was skeptical: Tehran regards the United States as a potential threat to political stability. The Geneva-2 talks between the Six and Iran on 1 October, 2009 were an uphill effort; it had become known that another reactor was being built in the city of Qom; this fanned doubts about the peaceful nature of the nuclear program. Iran responded to the IAEA inquiry about the sources of nuclear fuel for its research program by agreeing in principle to send 70 percent of its reactor-grade low-enriched uranium to Russia and France for enrichment. Another attempt was made to prevent enrichment of uranium from reactor to weapon grade; however, a crisis could not be avoided. After pushing France out of the uranium enrichment process, Iran demanded that fuel exchange should take place in its territory. Soon after that Ahmadine- jad announced that his country intended to build 10 more uranium enrichment facilities; he voiced his suggestion that Iran should abandon its cooperation with the IAEA and withdraw from the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty. This forced the U.S. Administration to resume its pressure on Tehran in 2010. It started looking for international support for U.N. economic sanctions and prohibited American companies from selling gasoline to Iran. Washington had obviously exhausted its diplomatic possibilities. On the whole, the picture looks as follows: while talking about his goodwill in relation to Iran, President Obama is seeking international support for new, harsher sanctions against Iran to be imposed in 2010. Russia and China, the energy interests of which in Iran can be described as considerable, at first refused to move in unison with the United States. Washington did its best to convince them to sign a more moderate document. Enraged, Tehran accused Moscow of betrayal and said that it was going along with Washington. The effect of the sanctions is still unclear, however they have undermined domestic opposition and consolidated the nation in the face of an external threat. In the final analysis, Iran might launch a nuclear weapon program of its own.

The Middle East: Looking for a Way Out

Israel belongs to the inner circle of Washington’s strategic allies. As an outpost of Western civilization in the Middle East, it carries even more weight. The United States has been keeping the Arab-Israeli conflict in the focus of attention at all times. The new administration favors Israel and Palestine as two independent states; it demands that Israel should stop building Jewish settlements on the West Bank. The Arab-Palestinian confessional confrontation and the problems created by the shortage of land and water resources are undermining the peacekeeping potential and political will needed to resolve the crisis.

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Today, the Palestinians are very much weakened by the split between the FATAH nationalists and the Islamists of HAMAS. The President of the Palestinian National Authority Mahmoud Abbas, who maintains relations with Israel and Washington, is little respected by his own people. Israel’s war in Gaza has no prospects; the Israeli leaders do not know what to do with HAMAS or how to move away from military confrontation to conflict settlement. The new coalition of the right wing in the Israeli government headed by Likud leader Benjamin Netanyahu (in 1993 he “stopped” the Oslo Accords—the Israeli-Palestinian peace agreements which provided for the creation of a Palestinian National Authority) has closed ranks with a large part of the country’s political elite under the slogan “Israel’s Security Above All Else,” which means that Iran rather than Palestine presents the greatest danger. President Obama is convinced that the two problems should be approached together, otherwise the contradictions will remain unresolved; he also believes that a one-sided Middle Eastern policy is unacceptable. We should bear in mind, however, that in the Middle East too, President Obama’s policy is both rhetorical and practical. The American president’s Cairo speech, in which he invited the Arab-Muslim world to participate in a dialog, belongs to the rhetorical component. Real life proved to be much more complicated. Step-by-step progress toward settlement was suggested; Israel was invited to freeze its settlement program while the Arab countries were advised to normalize their relations with Israel to create the atmosphere of trust and confidence needed for launching peace talks. This was not that easy; George Mitchell’s repeated attempts to convince Netan- yahu to halt the settlement program failed. Israel agreed, however, to freeze the program for ten months (with the exception of Eastern Jerusalem, public buildings, and projects already begun); this can be described as a positive, even if temporary, result. The European Union has long regarded the Israeli settlements as illegal. Catherine Ashton, High Representative of the EU for Foreign Affairs and Security Policy, put this stand in a nutshell: “East Jerusalem is occupied territory.” The EU Declaration of 8 December, 2008 demands a complete ban on the building of settlements. The absence of positive shifts in settling the Palestinian-Israeli conflict forced the U.S. Admin- istration to change its political approach to the problem; unwilling to leave the “negotiation platform,” “soft” brokerage was the only option Washington had left. The American analytical community believes that this approach will do no harm; however, as tension in the occupied territories rises and settlement prospects become vaguer, Washington’s involvement in the settlement process may be reduced to purely symbolic. This means that President Obama should invest more political capital in the Middle Eastern process; American brokerage should become more transparent and multifaceted (that is, acquire more vectors). America should revise its ideas about HAMAS in line with “I face the world as it is,” to quote from the American president’s Nobel Peace Prize Speech. This bold step will inevitably be criticized at home and will worsen relations with Israel.

In Lieu of a Conclusion

Relations with Israel are not President Obama’s only headache in the Middle East; before 2012, he is going to have to address many other no less important tasks. Indeed, the situation in Afghanistan,

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Pakistan, and Iraq largely depends on the balance of forces and distribution of resources in the Middle East. The United States is sparing no effort to avoid the use of force to settle the Iranian nuclear problem; additional U.N. sanctions against Iran will probably force Tehran to become more involved in the developments in Iraq and Afghanistan. Continued American pressure on Iran might trigger a conflict of American interests with China and Russia.

TURKEY AND SECURITY IN THE SOUTHERN CAUCASUS: THE CAUCASUS STABILITY AND COOPERATION PLATFORM

Maya MANCHKHASHVILI Assistant Fellow at the Institute of Political Studies, Ilia Chavchavadze State University (Tbilisi, Georgia)

Introduction

he August 2008 war between Russia and Armenia and the Zurich Protocols) which, how- Georgia tipped the balance of forces in the ever, did not carry enough weight to accelerate the T Southern Caucasus and made it harder to set peacekeeping process. up a regional security system. The Caucasus Stability and Cooperation Plat- The new challenges (occupation of Geor- form Turkey laid on the table in the wake of the gia’s two regions and recognition of their inde- August war obviously had no future, although it pendence) were set off by certain positive shifts clarified the problems to a certain extent and inspired (the “football diplomacy” between Turkey and the quest for new and more adequate decisions.

The Road toward the Caucasus Stability and Cooperation Platform

Since the 1990s, Turkey, one of the key political actors in the Southern Caucasus, has offered a regional security model twice.

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On 16 January, 2000, President Süleyman Demirel invited the regional countries to join the Caucasus Stability Pact, which envisaged Washington’s active involvement; the project, however, was never realized. Back in 1999, then President of Georgia Eduard Shevardnadze offered a similar project at the Istanbul OSCE Summit and was supported by the presidents of Azerbaijan and Armenia. Robert Kocharian specified the idea in the 3 + 3 + 2 formula: three South Caucasian republics (Armenia, Azerbaijan, and Georgia); three neighbors (Russia, Turkey, and Iran) and two extraregional powers (the European Union and the United States). None of the leaders, however, were inspired enough by this relatively feasible idea to develop it further. In 2000, the Center for European Policy Studies in Brussels came forward with its own Stability Pact for the Caucasus.1 This largely useful document threatened, albeit indirectly, the territorial integrity of Azerbaijan and Georgia.2 This means that the quest for a regional security model acceptable to both the regional and external actors failed. The 2008 August war added urgency to the regional security issue and made the search for a way out even more complicated; Turkey alone braved the challenge while the war was still going on by putting forward the Caucasus Stability and Cooperation Platform. On 11 August, 2008, Prime Minister of Turkey Recept Tayyip Erdoðan came to Moscow to discuss the project with President Medvedev; he then went to Baku and Tbilisi to hold consultations, during which proposals were made to form an alliance. Under the second version of the same document, Georgia, Armenia, Azerbaijan, Russia, and Turkey were expected to communicate in the Five or 3 + 2 formats. Later, the Turkish prime minister specified that the U.N. should be invited to join the talks.

The Caucasus Stability and Cooperation Platform and the Local States

Baku and Erevan were quite positive about the Platform; Foreign Minister of Armenia Nalban- dian said that his country was prepared to talk on a whole range of issues and was especially interested in a dialog on regional security and cooperation. He promised his country’s presence at the negotiation table.3 Foreign Minister of Azerbaijan E. Mamedyarov hailed Turkey’s initiative. Tbilisi, however, preferred to stay away. It refused in principle to join a regional alliance which involved negotiations with Russia, which, by that time, had occupied 20 percent of its territory; it could not accept the absence of the EU and U.S. from the project, since this went totally against its interests.

1 See: A Stability Pact for the Caucasus. A Consultative Document of the CEPS Task Force on the Caucasus. 2 For example, the “common state” idea expected to settle the conflict with Abkhazia gave equal status to Georgia and Abkhazia within the common state in which Abkhazia had the right to establish relations with other countries on its own and in some cases enter into agreements with them. Under the document, Abkhazia also had the right to have its own armed forces and police force. This boiled down to a confederation which, if realized, endangered Georgia’s territorial integrity. 3 See: “Ankara stremitsia umenshit svoiu vinu pered Moskvoy za vooruzhenie Tbilisi: ARFD,” available at [http:// www.regnum.ru/news/1050572.html], 5 September, 2008. 88 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

When talking to Prime Minister Erdoðan in Tbilisi, President Saakashvili was very positive about Turkey’s attempts to set up regional security mechanisms and asked the Turks to keep trying.4 During his meeting with the Georgian president, the prime minister of Turkey specified his country’s position by saying that no matter how complicated the situation might look, it could be resolved by the concerted efforts of the regional countries rather than by outside interference. He said that as the only country which refused to join the initiative Georgia risked self-isolation.5 The Five Format left the European Union and the United States out in the cold; Iran, one of the regional players, was not invited either.6 The fact that Turkey excluded strong political actors with regional interests of their own and key international structures from its Platform speaks volumes and makes us wonder whether this initiative could bring peace and security to the Southern Caucasus.

The Caucasus Stability and Cooperation Platform and the United States

Washington’s response to Turkey’s initiative was fairly reserved. According to Deputy Assist- ant Secretary of State Matthew Bryza, America was not informed. It was said that the White House believed it expedient to establish closer relations with allied Turkey in view of the two countries’ common interests in and outside the Southern Caucasus.7 In an interview which appeared in The Guardian on 18 August, 2008, President of Turkey Ab- dullah Gül said: “The conflict in Georgia showed that the United States could no longer shape global politics on its own and should begin sharing power with other countries.”8 Closer cooperation between America and Turkey on the regional security issue came to the fore much later, after the August war had become history. In the heat of the war, Ankara preferred to talk to Moscow and seek certain agreements with it. Turkey’s refusal to allow U.S. naval vessels carrying humanitarian aid to Georgia (Washington openly sided with Tbilisi) through the Straits during the Russian-Georgian war made the relations between the two countries even more strained. Ankara referred to the Montreux Convention9 ; Presi- dent Gül was quoted as saying that Turkey, which belonged to the region, was responsible for peace and stability in the Black Sea.10 On 23 September, American ships entered the Black Sea, however the delay did nothing for the United States’ image. The president of Turkey offered his personal comments some twelve months

4 See: “Erdoðan Backs Georgian Sovereignty, Caucasus Platform,” Today’s Zaman, 15 August, 2008. 5 See: Ibidem. 6 It should be said that Turkey’s earlier Caucasus Stability Pact likewise kept Iran outside the dialog format. In both cases, Turkey excluded Iran from its regional security model. 7 See: “Amerikantsy ushchemleny nesoglasovannoy aktivnostiu Turtsii na Kavkaze i dialogom mezhdu Ankaroy i Moskvoy,” available at [www.regnum./news/], 30 September, 2008. 8 “US Must Share Power in New World Order, Says Turkey’s Controversial President,” available at [www. guardian.co.uk/2008/aug/]. 9 The Montreux Convention regulated the regime of the Bosporus and Dardanelles and limited the maximum permis- sible volume of vessels of the countries which remained outside the Convention and which did not belong to the Black Sea region to 45,000 tonnes. Both U.S. vessels exceeded the weight limit (see: “Montreux Convention under Spotlight,” Today’s Zaman, 23 August, 2008). 10 See: “Turkey Allows US Ships to Take Aid to Georgia,” Today’s Zaman, 20 September, 2008. 89 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS later when addressing the Center for Strategic Research in Ankara: the Georgian events, he said, should be treated as a warning about possible flare-ups of the frozen conflicts in the region. He also argued that the Montreux Convention Regarding the Regime of the Straits, which came into play during the Russian-Georgian war, had prevented a greater tragedy.11 Some think that cooler relations between Turkey, on the one hand, and the EU and U.S., on the other, might push the former closer to Russia. Zeyno Baran, a leading fellow at the Hudson Institute, wrote in September 2008 that when the NATO naval vessels approached the Straits, Turkey had to choose between Russia and the United States; at the height of the August war, Turkey and Russia initiated a five-sided Caucasus Stability and Co- operation Platform. Where is Turkey going? Zeyno Baran wants to know. Later developments showed that Turkey and Russia were drifting closer; in fact, Ankara’s desire to be involved in the peace and stability dialog in the Southern Caucasus looks natural. It should be said, however, that geopolitical changes of this sort limit the local countries’ freedom of foreign policy maneuver. Relations between Turkey and the United States cooled after one of Congress’ committees recognized the fact of Armenian genocide; Ankara recalled its ambassador, allegedly for consultations. The interests of the former allies are no longer identical; anti-American sentiments are on the rise in Turkey. Their strategic partnership will survive the crisis for the simple reason that Turkey needs a strong ally, while the United States needs a partner it can rely on in the Middle East and the Southern Caucasus. On 19 August, 2008, Prime Minister Erdoðan met the foreign ministers of France, Germany, Sweden, and Finland, OSCE Chairman-in-Office Alexander Stubb, and U.S. Secretary of State Con- doleezza Rice to discuss the Caucasus Stability Pact. Turkey was obviously seeking a wider dialog on regional security.

Left in the Cold, Iran Stirs into Action

The Armenian political elite shared the Iranian national elite’s concern about the fact that the country had been left outside the Five Format designed to address the Caucasian problems. One of the top Armenian diplomats said that the Caucasus Stability and Cooperation Platform had obviously been knocked together in haste, while on 4 September, 2008 Chairman of the NA Standing Committee on Foreign Relations Armen Rustamian, when speaking at a press conference, said that Iran’s absence from this format was a time bomb which would destroy the security system.12 On 17 September, 2008, one of the Armenian newspapers carried a statement by Kamal Zareh, representative on political affairs of the Embassy of Iran in Armenia, in which he dismissed Turkey’s initiative as hasty and half-baked and pointed out that a regional balance cannot be achieved without his country.13

11 See: Prezident Turtsii: Vzryv v kavkazskom regione mozhet proizoyti v lyuboe vremia,” 6 September, 2009, available at [www.ghn.ge]. 12 See: Vigen Akopian: “Voyna v Yuzhnoy Osetii i novye perspektivy armiano-turetskikh otnosheniy,” available at [www.regnum.ru/], 6 September, 2008. 13 See: “Iran vyshel iz teni: bezopasnost na Kavkaze mezhdu Turtsiey i Iranom,” available at [www.regnum.ru/news/], 17 September, 2008. 90 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

Left outside the Platform, Iran demonstrated much more activity on the international arena: Foreign Minister Manouchehr Mottaki visited the capitals of Azerbaijan, Armenia, Russia, and Ger- many to discuss what could be done to preserve stability and peace in the Southern Caucasus.

The Caucasus Stability and Cooperation Platform and Russia

Russia was very positive about Prime Minister Erdoðan’s initiative. On 7 October, 2008, Foreign Minister of Russia Sergey Lavrov said in an interview with Rossiiskaia gazeta: “Turkey’s idea to set up a common Security Platform in the Caucasus is a product of Turkish diplomacy; I think that the Turks have grasped the meaning of this unique moment, which fully justifies their presence in the region.”14 The draft of the Platform reserved Russia and Turkey the role of guarantors of regional security; Ankara’s inflated ambitions pushed Iran and the other extraregional actors out of the game. The Russian-Georgian war and Russia’s recognition of Abkhazia’s and South Ossetia’s independence dealt the heaviest blow to the Platform, which rested on respect for the sovereignty and territorial integrity of all countries. Moscow assumed a peremptory tone to announce that the South- ern Caucasus with its two new states had changed beyond recognition. Moscow went even further to say that it was prepared to deal with four of them and that it had temporarily severed diplomatic relations with Georgia.15 Moscow has its own ideas about the draft Platform; it is trying to keep external powers outside the area of its strategic interest or at least trim their influence there. It blocked off the efforts of the international observer missions of the U.N. and OSCE in Georgia after the 2008 August war. Some think that Russia does not need any outside opinion about its activities in the self-proclaimed break- away republics and adjacent territories. Russia, which has trampled on Georgia’s sovereignty, can be described as the main threat to regional peace and security.

The Caucasus Stability and Cooperation Platform Transformed: Iran Receives an Invitation

Turkey and Iran moved somewhat closer on certain issues about twelve months after the Plat- form had been put on the table. Early in November 2009, Prime Minister Erdoðan visited Tehran where he said that Turkey and Iran are equally interested in Caucasian stability, which meant that all the regional countries should be involved in dealing with regional problems.16

14 “Sergey Lavrov rasskazal ob Armenii, Azerbaidzhane, Turtsii i SShA,” available at [www.rg.ru], 7 October, 2008. 15 See: “Rossia ne zhelaet vmeshatelstva tretikh stran v protsessy na Kavkaze: mnenie,” available at [www.regnum.ru/ news], 24 October, 2008. 16 See: “Stanislav Tarasov: Turtsia vvodit Iran v ‘kavkazskoe uravnenie’,” available at [www.regnum.ru/news], 9 No- vember, 2009. 91 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

Turkey had obviously moved away from its previous stand on Iran, which it treated as an unwel- come member of the alliance. On 2 November, 2009, the two countries signed an agreement on cooperation in energy resources. According to Turkish Energy Minister Taner Yildiz, the newly signed document gave his country the opportunity to be involved in developing the largest Iranian oil field; the minister went on to say that the project might make Iran one of the main suppliers of Nabucco. During his November 2009 visit to Tehran, the Turkish prime minister deemed it necessary to point out that Iran was invited to join the Caucasus Stability and Cooperation Platform. As a follow- up to the 8 December meeting between Early in November 2009, Prime Erdoðan and President Obama, the White House announced that Turkey could move in as a mediator between the United States and Iran. As a Platform member, Iran might add a fresh boost to the idea of regional stability, however its strained relations with the United States might interfere with its realization.

The Dialog that Fell Apart

Russia, which recognized “two new states” in the Caucasus, thus violated the Platform’s basic principle of territorial integrity of the South Caucasian states; the dialog on regional security degen- erated into squabbles between the states involved (Georgia and Russia; Armenia and Turkey; Azerba- ijan and Armenia). Ankara made another attempt to sort out the cooperation and stability problems by putting forward a Caucasian Alliance project. In an effort to settle its disagreements with Armenia, Turkey asked Switzerland to start the talks with Erevan on cooperation and opening the borders. On 24 April, 2009, Turkey and Armenia signed a road map agreement. On 10 October, 2009, they signed protocols which neither of them has ratified so far. If achieved, a settlement between Turkey and Armenia will become an event of regional dimensions which will supply all the South Caucasian states with new foreign policy landmarks and improve Turkey’s image along with its chances of joining the EU. Russia, which was very positive about the prospect of stabilized relations between Erevan and Ankara, deemed it necessary to point out that the issue belonged to their bilateral relations. There is the other side of the coin: normalized relations between Turkey and Armenia might bring the latter closer to the West and NATO, which might cast doubts on Russia’s continued military presence in Armenia. The Kremlin obviously prefers to keep its strategic ally within its sphere of influence. Washington believes that an agreement between Turkey and Armenia should be achieved without preliminary conditions and the sides called upon to move forward toward regional stability and security. The dialog between Russia and Georgia has been going on in the Geneva Talks format, which concentrates on security. The previous two years have produced no results for the simple reason that Russia refuses to treat Georgia as a sovereign state. The prospects for regional cooperation are dimmed by the new challenges.

In Lieu of a Conclusion

Although it is interesting, Turkey’s Caucasian Alliance idea is not free from certain serious flaws:

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n Turkey preferred to ignore the interests of the United States as the world’s strongest power; n the European Union, which shouldered the peacekeeping mission during the August war of 2008, was left outside the project even though its observers are still stationed in the territories adjacent to Abkhazia and the Tskhinvali Region; n the Five format did not presuppose the active involvement of the OSCE and U.N. Later the U.N. was invited to join the talks (on an initiative by the Turkish prime minister); its decisions, however, produced no effect on what was going on in the region; n Russia’s invasion of Georgia cast doubt on the local states’ territorial integrity as the basic principle of regional cooperation. The world community is closely following the developments in the Southern Caucasus because they greatly affect the global security system. This means that when looking for new ways and means of regional stabilization, we should take into account the strong and the weak sides of Turkey’s Cau- casus Stability and Cooperation Platform.

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MASS MEDIA

TWO DECADES OF REPRESSION: THE PERSISTENCE OF AUTHORITARIAN CONTROLS ON THE MASS MEDIA IN CENTRAL ASIA

Eric FREEDMAN Associate Professor of Journalism & Associate Dean of International Studies & Programs, Michigan State University (East Lansing MI, U.S.)

Richard SHAFER Professor of Journalism, Department of English, University of North Dakota (Grand Forks ND, U.S.)

Slavka ANTONOVA Associate Professor of Communication, University of North Dakota (Grand Forks ND, U.S.)

Introduction

issolution of the Soviet Union in 1991 gave Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, and Uzbekistan—with birth to five independent nations in Cen- initial aspirations for an imminent transition from D tral Asia—Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, communism toward democracy. After twenty 94 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 years, however, none has developed anything of whom had headed their pre-independence So- close to a free press system or otherwise emerged viet republics. Yet such an advocacy-boosterism from post-communist authoritarianism. To the persona for the press deterred and discouraged contrary, each repressitarian regime—meaning many highly motivated journalists—especially both authoritarian in governance and repressive new professionals and those who had chafed un- in human rights practices—imposes extensive der the Soviet-era propagandizing mission—from official and extra-official constraints on the mass pursuing fact-based, objective journalism based media. Those constraints apply both to tradition- on a commitment to fairness, balance, ethics, and al outlets such as newspapers and broadcast sta- accuracy. tions and, increasingly, to new media such as Western governments and universities, news-related websites and blogs. multinational agencies, foreign news media, and After an overview of the Soviet press system, nongovernmental organizations (NGOs) have this article describes some of the abysmal restric- sponsored large numbers of journalism education tions confronting journalists and news organiza- and professional development programs in Cen- tions in contemporary Central Asia. It then suggests tral Asia. For twenty years, Western trainers and some factors that may explain the dearth of free university faculty sought to encourage, and some- press systems there, examines the impact of West- times launch, independent, economically sustain- ern trainers and educators, and highlights limita- able media outlets and to promote Western pro- tions on the Internet’s ability to provide the public fessional practices, skills, and values. At the same with alternative sources of news, information, and time, human rights and press rights advocates have opinion. It ends with a pessimistic prognosis for de- focused sharp attention on governmental and qua- velopment of sustainable free press systems. si-governmental policies, practices, and laws that In the first years of independence, the five restrict journalists’ ability to collect and dissem- governments understandably regarded the press inate information. as a unifying tool to nurture national identity and Today, international observers of press free- a sense of statehood among their ethnically and dom rate the five regimes among the world’s most linguistically diverse populations.1 That role for repressive. For example, the NGO Freedom the press provided a relatively easy psychologi- House classifies their press systems as “not free” cal transition for professional journalists. That is (see Table 1); none places higher than 159th because they were educated, trained, and experi- among 196 countries; Uzbekistan and Turkmen- enced in a system where the press served as a tight- istan wallow among the bottom nine.3 Another ly controlled mouthpiece for the Communist Par- media development NGO, the International Re- ty, Marxist-Leninist philosophy, and the central search & Exchanges Board,4 concludes that none government in distant Moscow.2 It was also a of the countries has a sustainable independent logical approach for the new national leaders, all media system (see Table 1). IREX’s assessment is based on five sets of objectives and indicators that assess: 1 See: F. Muminova, “National Identity, National Mentality, and the Media,” Central Asia and the Caucasus, (a) social and legal norms protecting and No. 5 (17), 2002. promoting access to public information 2 See: N. Krasnoboka, “Between the Rejected Past and free speech; and an Uncertain Future: Russian Media Studies at a Cross- roads,” in: Communication Yearbook 34, ed. by Ch.T. Salm- on, Routledge, New York, 2010, pp. 317-345; R. Shafer, Structural and Economic Alternatives, Praeger, Westport, E. Freedman, Journalism Education and the Press in Cen- Conn., 1993. tral Asia: Soviet Foundations of the Post-Independence 3 See: Freedom of the Press 2010, Freedom House, Era, Paper presented to the Association for Education in Washington, 2010, available at [www.freedomhouse.org]. Journalism & Mass Communication. 2010; Th.C. Wolfe, 4 See: Media Sustainability Index 2010: Development Governing Soviet Journalism: The Press and the Socialist of Sustainable Independent Media in Europe and Eurasia, Person after Stalin. Indiana University Press, Blooming- International Research & Exchanges Board, Washington, ton, Ind., 2005; E. Androunas, Soviet Media in Transition: 2010. 95 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

Table 1 Press Freedom in Central Asia

Reporters Freedom IREX IREX IREX without House Borders

Unsustai- Unsustai- Near Press nable nable Press Sustaina- Freedom Anti-Free Mixed Freedom*** bility* Index** Press* System*

Kazakhstan 5 of 162 of Not free 5 criteria^ 178 countries

Kyrgyzstan 3 of 2 of 159 of Not free 5 criteria^ 5 criteria^ 178 countries

Tajikistan 5 of 115 of Not free 5 criteria^ 178 countries

Turkmenistan 5 of 176 of Not free 5 criteria^ 178 countries

Uzbekistan 5 of 163 of Not free 5 criteria^ 178 countries

^ C r i t e r i a: 1) Freedom of Speech; 2) Professional Journalism; 3) Plurality of News; 4) Business Management; 5) Supporting Institutions

* International Research & Exchanges Board, Media Sustainability Index 2010. ** Reporters without Borders, Press Freedom Index 2010. *** Freedom House, Freedom of the Press 2010.

(b) quality of journalism professional The standing of all five countries declined standards; between 2009 and 2010 in the Reporters without 5 (c) public access to multiple sources of Borders annual Press Freedom Index. news and information; Despite extensive and expensive outside efforts and some internal efforts to facilitate fre- (d) good business management and edito- er media systems, the conditions for press free- rial independence of news outlets; and (e) presence of other institutions that sup- 5 See: “Internet Enemies: Turkmenistan,” Reporters port the professional interests of inde- without Borders, 2010, available at [http://en.rsf.org/inter- pendent media. net-enemie-turkmenistan,36692.html]. 96 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 dom and the safety of journalists show no evi- press freedom. In July 2010, for example, the dence of significant improvement. That is true Kyrgyz National Security Service, or SNB, regardless of post-independent changes in lead- raided the Osh TV newsroom and temporarily ership in Turkmenistan or in regime—twice in detained and interrogated its director but did not Kyrgyzstan. Journalists continued to confront arrest him.6 obstacles in Kyrgyzstan after the April 2010 coup that toppled increasingly authoritarian 6 See: “Kyrgyz Agents Raid TV Station, Interrogate President Kurmanbek Bakiev, despite a com- Director,” Press Release, Committee to Protect Journalists, mitment from the new government to protect 13 July, 2010.

Statement of the Problem

Despite international support for democratization and criticism of their authoritarianism, the twenty-year-old independent nations of formerly Soviet Central Asia have failed to create, let alone permit, systems of governance that enable independent news outlets and organizations to operate and sustain themselves financially. Explanations for that failure by these repressitarian regimes include political, national, cultural, and economic realities in countries with no history of democracy, no geographic proximity to democracies, and no leadership committed to democratization.

Soviet Foundations of Contemporary Mass Media in Central Asia

To better understand Central Asian public policy toward the mass media today, it is necessary to understand its pre-independence foundations. Those Soviet roots help explain why leaders who rose to power before 1991 have vigorously blocked the evolution of the press into the robust, independent, watchdog of democracy that journalists and civil society proponents in most developed and democratic nations advocate. In addition, the artificiality of the republics’ borders drawn under Josef Stalin has reinforced the regimes’ commitment to press constraints under the guise of nation-building. Russian occupation and Moscow-centered Soviet socialism prevented nation-building for the approximately 145 years that most of the region was under direct and proxy Russian control. Its largest cities were established as Soviet military outposts, although other great cities, such as Samarkand and Bukhara, rose and fell centuries before Russians colonization began in the 1860s. After the decline of the great Silk Road cities, there was little urban concentration to promote development of a modern press system; many Central Asians remained nomadic into the 19th and early 20th centuries. In the early 1920s, the young communist government accelerated its propaganda campaign to neutralize or repress opposition and to build model Soviet citizens. The press became the primary vehicle for this immense propaganda effort. Low literacy in Central Asian languages obstructed the growth of newspapers and other mass media until the Soviets introduced universal education and raised literacy rates; even then, Central Asians learned to read primarily Russian, not their ethnic languages.

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Important decisions to increase publication of propagandistic literature were made during the 13th Communist Party Congress in 1924: Publishing houses were to specialize in certain categories of literature, with special attention to producing political, technical, and agricultural literature. For instance, the Uzgosizdat publishing house was formed in 1925 as the state publisher in Uzbekistan under the larger Central Asian state publishing house. Such state-controlled enterprises focused on social and economic, political, popular scientific, legal, and technological, agricultural, and educational content, as well as on literature. Journalists became party activists during the 1926 belt-tightening campaign and left their news- rooms to enter factories to help organize production. However, they continued to employ the agita- tional rhetoric that developed during the Civil War, a rhetoric filled with military metaphors and exhortations to action. By merging innovative forms of journalism with such militant rhetoric, journalists were encouraged not only to organize the factory floor, but to mobilize factory workers by equating increased industrial production with the epic military victories of the Bolshevik Revolution. The masterminds of this new form of journalism called themselves massoviki, or “mass activists,” and labeled their work massovast, or “mass work.” Lenoe translates the terms as “mass journalists” and “mass journalism” and says: “The language of the shock campaign, with its command- form headlines, military metaphors, grandiose superlatives, and vocabulary of urban revolt and class war, was a complex amalgam of elements that had entered the speech and writing of Bolshevik activists over a twenty-to-thirty-year period.” He writes that such a militant, inspirational and grandiose form of journalism was a means to revive the Russian sensationalist style popular before the revolution.7 Because of the long history of domination, first by czarist Russia and then by the Soviets, the history of the press in Central Asia cannot be easily separated from the history of the larger czarist-era and Soviet-era press systems. The experience of tight controls imposed by the Soviets creates a further obstacle to media development in post-Soviet Central Asia. Until 1990, the press was state-owned and highly centralized without independent, uncensored, or opposition media other than underground samizdat. Thus as in other republics in the U.S.S.R., Central Asians were informed by media content controlled almost wholly by state publishing houses that licensed and printed newspapers and maga- zines. Those publishing houses operated with the primary intent of furthering Marxism-Leninism and advancing the agenda of the party and government centered in Moscow, becoming the primary vehicle for propagandizing Soviet ideology. During the 1920s and 1930s, the press also focused on reshaping the language, culture, and mental processes of the Central Asian masses to form them into politically conscious citizens of the new Soviet state. Journalists provided citizens with rational explanations of party policy, inspiration for heroic sacrifice, and a sense of classlessness. By the middle of the first Five-Year Plan, the press focused on mobilizing party activists with calls for valiant sacrifice and attacks on internal class enemies. In the early 1930s, it instilled in party members an identity as warrior heroes battling for socialism, presented optimistic images of the future, and assured the public that industrialization would make the Soviet state superior to capitalist democracies.8 Journalists in Central Asia were fully integrated into the Soviet system and often became well- rewarded members of the party elite. They acted as effective agents and mass mobilizers for socialist experimentation, including collectivization of industry and agriculture and dissemination and popu-

7 See: M.E. Lenoe, Closer to the Masses: Stalinist Culture, Social Revolution, and Soviet Newspapers, Harvard University Press, Cambridge, Mass., 2004, pp. 37-38. 8 See: Ibidem. 98 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 larization of worker literature and art. They were critical in gaining popular support for “five-year” plans and other forms of centralized economic planning. The press’ successful promotion of the image of the Soviet citizens’ paramount national identity was important in Central Asia. Of course, the ideal of a classless society, where ethnic and religious identities were secondary or tertiary to Soviet citizenship was never achieved. Yet many Central Asians became “modernized” and believed themselves to be full members of a larger society. The press was instrumental in furthering that identity. One result was relatively peaceful coexistence between once-mutually hostile ethnic groups. At the same time, the press was instrumental to maintaining public support in the country’s Cold War engagement against the West and in legitimizing permanent Russian occupation of Eastern and Central Europe. Similarly, it propagandized for communist-imperialist expansion in the developing world, culminating in the invasion and ultimately unsuccessful occupation of Afghanistan. Although they might have been proficient in the mechanics and skills of professional journalism, Soviet-era Central Asian journalists were guided by communist principles and instructions. They learned, willingly or not, to emphasize positive initiatives and achievements by the state and party. They were trained to laud economic achievements and heroes of socialist labor in a propagandist manner. Negative events, tragedies, and controversies were generally ignored or downplayed if they reflected badly on the Soviet system or government. After independence, many of them found it difficult to relinquish these well-entrenched Soviet-era journalistic traditions and practices. For example, one aspect of Soviet journalism practice that persists in Central Asia is an interpre- tive style of reporting in which journalists incorporate their opinions and commentary into what should be straightforward and unbiased news reports. Their perceived license to include such interpretation within news stories emerged from the Soviet-era practice of interpreting news and events based on party policies and Marxist-Leninist theories. In post-Soviet Central Asia, such journalistic interpretations are influenced by economic interests or by a need to placate or serve repressitarian regimes and their allies. The empowerment of such a license for interpretation leads journalists to attempt to present knowledge or expertise they may lack. As a result, the quality of reporting is diminished and the public lacks confidence in and trust of the press. Despite the comparative dearth of international studies and analyses of Soviet mass media during the Soviet era,9 it is evident that seven decades under that system shape Central Asian governance, journalistic practices, and citizen attitudes. Similarly, although mass media technologies have changed dramatically, today’s depth and breadth of constraints on press rights would feel familiar to Soviet citizens thirty years ago. Thus as the next section of this article illustrates, the grim current media environment mirrors pre-independence realities of acceptable boundaries for journalistic endeavors.

Contemporary Country-by-Country Press Conditions10

A normative assumption of democracy is that press freedom is essential to participatory, transparent governance. If “a trusted, respected, and independent mass media system is a major indicator

9 See: N. Krasnoboka, op. cit. 10 Unless cited to another source, information in this section is drawn from the U.S. Department of State; Commit- tee to Protect Journalists; Freedom House; Reporters without Borders; Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty; International Research & Exchanges Board; International Media Support; Eurasietnet.org; Institute for War & Peace Reporting; and In- ternational Freedom of Expression eXchange. 99 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS of a country’s development of democracy and civil society,”11 then media constraints reflect either regression or advancement in democracy-building. In contrast to the Central Asian experience, post- Soviet developments in Central and Eastern Europe demonstrate that “the evolution of print and electronic media has been central to the larger process of political and cultural restructuring. Struggles for independent journalism [were] at once both symbolic of democratic aspirations and central to the building of the post-communist governments.”12 By rejecting participatory, transparent governance, repressitarian regimes validate that normative assumption through what Puddington13 labels “pushback” against defiant journalists and press rights advocates. Both the twenty-year history of constraints and the ongoing pattern of repression indicate the hostility—the pushback—that individual journalists and media outlets encounter. That history and the present situation raise serious doubts about the viability of other democratic institutions that, together, are necessary to weave the fabric of civil society. Four years after independence, Brown attributed the region’s absence of press freedom and deep media dependency on government to “the high value placed on stability in society; the persistent Soviet legacy, which involves a view of the press as political communication; and the persistent economic crisis.” 14 Political scientists and media scholars traditionally have suggested governance-related variables to explain the presence or absence of press freedom, such as multiple political parties and counter-balancing, co-equal branches of government, as well as media-specific variables, such as regulatory requirements and economic sustainability. To be sure, official and quasi-official constraints by regimes and their allies cannot provide the sole explanation for the absence of aggressive, independent media in Central Asia. Nor do economic realities, such as limited potential for adequate advertising and circulation revenue, provide a single explanation. Now two decades after independence, the five national press systems are not identical but share commonalities, including strong or total state and state-proxy control, low levels of public trust, and limited or non-existent market sustainability. Those systems also demonstrate trepidation about or hostility to the Western watchdog function of journalism that might otherwise serve to reduce corruption, protect the environment, encourage transparency, and extend effective citizen participation in governance. Unfortunately, there is a lack of reliable data on Central Asian media outlets and on the demo- graphics of their audiences.15 Despite a large number of outlets (see Table 2), constraints on the press preclude them from presenting a plurality of viewpoints and perspectives. Constraints are not aimed solely at domestic news outlets that have domestic or intra-Central Asia audiences, but also at international media reporting about Central Asian events to external audiences. They include foreign press outlets themselves—for instance by denying licenses to international

11 E. Freedman, “When a Democratic Revolution isn’t Democratic or Revolutionary,” Journalism, Vol. 10, No. 6, 2009, p. 844. 12 J. Rubin, “Transitions—A Regional Summary,” Media Studies Journal, Vol. 13, No. 3, 1999, p. 60. 13 See: A. Puddington, “The Pushback against Democracy,” Journal of Democracy, Vol. 18, No. 2, 2007, p. 125. 14 J.L. Brown, “Mass Media in Transition in Central Asia,” International Communication Gazette, Vol. 54, 1995, p. 249. 15 For example, in August 2010, the president of Kazakhstan announced that more than 2,600 mass media “are successfully developing” in the country (“Over 2,600 Mass Media Successfully Develop in Kazakhstan—President,” Kaz- inform, 27 August, 2010, available at [http://kazinform.kz/eng/article/2298208]), although the International Research & Exchanges Board (see: Media Sustainability Index 2010: Development of Sustainable Independent Media in Europe and Eurasia, International Research & Exchanges Board, Washington, 2010) tallied only about 1,000 active media outlets there. Similarly, IREX tallied 250 active print and 32 TV and radio outlets in Kyrgyzstan, while the Central Election Commission reportedly accredited 136 newspapers and 33 broadcasters (see: “CEC Accredits 175 Mass Media,” KABAR, 25 August, 2010, available at [http://eng.kabar.kg/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=948& Itemid=3]). 100 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

Table 2

Active News Outlets & Internet Access

State- Major TV Internet Print Radio owned Private Stations/ Penetra- Outlets* Stations* News News Cable* tion** Agencies* Agencies*

Kazakhstan 937 40+ 14 1 3 34.30%

Kyrgyzstan 250 35 10 1 3 39.80%

Tajikistan 210 10 22 1 6 9.30%

Turkmenistan 39 5 5 1 0 1.60%

Uzbekistan 881 35 53 1 2 16.80%

* International Research & Exchanges Board, 2010. ** Internet World Stats, 2010. broadcasters and denying accreditation for their correspondents. In addition, individual correspondents for foreign media are targeted. Among them is Voice of America (VOA) correspondent Abduma- lik Boboev, charged in September 2010 by Uzbekistani authorities with libel, publishing material that threatens national security, and illegally crossing the border. This section describes the media environment in each country in 2009-2010, based on reports from foreign governments and press rights defender groups. It illuminates patterns of constraints that have changed little in the first two decades of independence and provides evidence of the difficulties ahead if press freedom is to develop in Central Asia.

Kazakhstan

The government maintains stringent control over the media through a law that prohibits insulting the president and other officials, and through a high level of government ownership and subsidies to favored private press outlets. Although the media law was amended in February 2009 by removing a requirement that media re-register when their senior editorial staff changes, the government is still criticized by oppositional politicians and civil society leaders for tolerating harassment and violence against independent journalists. Moreover, new laws that restrict the Internet have been introduced. Disregarding public outcry, authorities subjected online social media to the same restrictions as traditional media. Also, a newly created Service to React to Computer Incidents is responsible for “check- ing ‘destructive’ websites.” In July 2010, CPJ advised the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE) of Kazakhstan’s poor press freedom record and called for including that issue on the agenda for an OSCE summit in December 2010. Ironically, currently Kazakhstan chairs the organization and, in the words of President Nursultan Nazarbaev, that summit would be “the first international forum of this scale in

101 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS the entire post-Soviet area.”16 Among the charges against the government are its use of bureaucratic pressure, “including politicized audits on printing houses—to stifle independent coverage” and media content censorship that “has crept onto the Internet.” The imprisonment of Ramazan Yesergepov, editor of the independent newspaper Alma-Ata Info, is also regarded as a major violation of press freedom; authorities detained him in January 2009 for publishing two internal Kazakh security service (KNB) memos that “attested to the KNB’s attempts to influence a prosecutor and a judge in a criminal tax evasion case.”17

Kyrgyzstan

In what was once the Central Asian country most open to press freedom, Kyrgyzstan’s two ousted presidents, Askar Akaev and then Kurmanbek Bakiev became more hostile to the media as their regimes grew increasingly authoritarian. During the summer 2010 inter-ethnic clashes in the southern part of the country, there were reports that authorities harassed journalists who worked for opposition news media and criticized government officials. Contracts with Western broadcasters— Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty (RFE/RL) and the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC) among them—were revoked. The government remains heavily involved in the media sphere. New media outlets must register with the Ministry of Justice to operate; under the 2008 media law, the state retained control over the Kyrgyz National Television and Radio Broadcasting Corporation (NTRK), despite then-President Bakiev’s previous assurance that a national public interest broadcaster would be created. In the aftermath of the ethnic violence in southern Kyrgyzstan in May and early June 2010, the editor of the Uzbek-language newspaper Diydor, Ulugbek Abdusalomov, and journalist-human rights activist Azimjon Askarov were charged with incitement vo ethnic hatred, extremism, calls to mass disorder, and complicity to murder. In the eyes of some human rights groups, though, the two journalists were “being held in retaliation for reporting on the humanitarian crisis and human rights abuses in southern Kyrgyzstan.”18 However, it is premature to accurately assess whether the recently elected government’s long-term attitude and policies will enhance or continue to hobble media development.

Tajikistan

Although its constitution provides for a multiparty political system, Tajikistan remains an authoritarian state under President Emomali Rahmon, who empowers supporters from a favored region of the country. The government performed poorly with regard to providing or supporting human rights, and corruption continued to hamper democratic and social reform. The government enforced restrictions on freedoms of speech, press, association, and religion. Authorities abuse or ignore constitutionally guaranteed rights. People who disagree with government policies were subject to intimidation; insulting the president carries heavy penalties. Despite

16 “Kazakhstan’s President Welcomes Decision to Hold OSCE Summit in December in Astana,” Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe, 2010, available at [www.osce.org/item/45662.html]. 17 N. Ognianova, “Denied Access, CPJ Manages to Interview Kazakh Prisoner,” 10 June, 2010. 18 “CPJ Decries Charges against Journalists in Kyrgyzstan,” Press Release, Committee to Protect Journalists, 12 August, 2010. 102 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 restraints on speech rights, independent media were said to remain active, however. For example, print media continued to regularly publish political commentary and content critical of the regime, but certain topics were off limits. Taboo topics included criticism of the president and his relatives, as well as implication that presidential allies made questionable financial gains. Media outlets generally found it prudent to practice self-censorship to avoid government reprisal. In October 2009, the newspaper Paikon was found guilty of libel and fined about U.S. $68,000 for printing an open letter criticizing the nation’s import and export agency. Individual journalists faced harassment and intimidation, including a Reuters journalist accused of publishing derogatory information about the government; authorities threatened to release false information about the reporter if such criticism continued. Oth- er journalists complained about limited access to public information and were warned against covering certain subjects. Other government harassment was reported as well, including arbitrary prosecutions and threats telephoned to journalists, and personal threats voiced during authorities’ visits to editorial offices. Selective tax inspections of journalists and media outlets occurred as well.

Turkmenistan

Although Turkmenistan’s constitution states that it is a secular democracy that protects freedom of speech and freedom of the press, the Democratic Party remains its only legal political party; Pres- ident Gurbanguly Berdymukhammedov won an election that failed to meet international standards; December 2008 parliamentary elections also failed in this regard. Although modest human rights improvements were reported, the government continues to commit serious political and civil rights abuses and to restrict civil liberties. Its long list of human rights abuses includes relentless abuses of press freedom. The government has warned critics against speaking with visiting journalists or other foreigners about human rights problems. Law enforcement officials have harassed and detained Turkmen journalists working for foreign media outlets. Virtually all print media remain government-financed, with the exception of the Turkish newspaper Zaman, which is government-sanctioned and reflects the contents and views of state-supported newspapers. The government maintains rigid limitations on importation of foreign media, and although those restrictions had eased temporarily, Berdymukhamme- dov retightened them in August 2010; he said the country produces enough publications of its own and criticized the quality of imported ones.19 In 2009, government agents detained, harassed, and intimidated journalists, and RFE/RL journalists reported frequent surveillance by authorities. Journalists have been prohibited from traveling abroad, and press accreditation is routinely withheld from those deemed critical of the government. An example is RFE/RL reporter Halmurat Gylychdurdyev, who underwent continual harassment and intimidation; authorities monitored his activities, harassed relatives, and routinely disconnected his mobile telephone service.

Uzbekistan

Uzbekistani journalists operate under a legal system that holds all media accountable for the «objectivity “of their reporting, keeps major broadcast and print media firmly under direct control of

19 See: “Further Restrictions on Foreign Press in Turkmenistan,” News Briefing Central Asia, 3 September, 2010, available at [http://iwpr.net/report-news/further-restrictions-foreign-press-turkmenistan]. 103 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS the state or government-dominated political parties, and places them at risk of harassment, intimidation, and arrest. As for media content, the law restricts criticism of the president, prohibits advocacy of fundamentalism and religious extremism, and outlaws instigation of religious and ethnic hatred, among other constraints on what the media can report. The government permits “a few private newspapers with limited circulation containing advertising, horoscopes, and similar features and some substantive local news, including infrequent stories critical of government socioeconomic policies.”20 As for the Internet, “a few Web sites, most notably Press-uz.info, Gorizont.uz, and Region.uz, purported to be independent, yet their reporting reflected the government”s viewpoint.”21 Broadcasts by RFE/RL, VOA, and BBC World Service are banned, while Reuters and Associated Press correspondents were denied accreditation to operate in the country. As of February 2010, seven journalists were imprisoned for their professional work, including photojournalist and documentary filmmaker Umida Akhmedova, who was convicted that month of libel and insulting the Uzbek people after publishing photographs of village life and producing a documentary about premarital sex. Also in 2010, police in Andijan jailed independent journalist Aleksei Volosevich for three days because he filmed refugees fleeing ethnic violence in nearby Kyrgyzstan; police also seized Volosevich’s film and audio recorder. The article now considers three aspects of the region’s current media environment. These are factors that may further the ability of the regimes to suppress press rights; the impact of foreign trainers on the skills of journalists and their ability to work without fear or state interference; and the In- ternet’s ability to provide Central Asians with a wide range of news, information, and opinion.

Factors in the Persistence of Press Constraints in Central Asia

Scholars of press systems generally attribute the absence of press freedom to structures of government—such as the lack of an independent judiciary or the absence of multiple political parties— or to media-specific conditions—such as state ownership, media monopolies, and lack of professional standards. Some Cold War-era researchers suggested that variables external to government and the media also may influence the existence of press freedom. They include distribution of wealth and population, gross national product, literacy, education levels, and religious tradition.22 Later, Connol- ly-Ahern and Golan23 reported a significant association between a country’s Christian and Muslim make-up and its degree of press freedom. A more recent study24 focused on the former Soviet Union

20 “2009 Country Reports on Human Rights Practices,” U.S. Department of State, 11 March 2010, available at [www.state.gov/g/drl/rls/hrrpt/2009/index.htm]. 21 Ibidem. 22 See: R.B. Nixon, “Factors Related to Freedom in National Press Systems,” Journalism Quarterly, Vol. 42, No. 1, 1960, pp. 9-14; D.M. Gilmor, “Freedom in Press Systems and the Religious Variable,” Journalism Quarterly, Vol. 39, 1962, pp. 15-26; V. Farace, L. Donohew, “Mass Communication in National Social Systems: A Study of 43 Variables in 115 Coun- tries,” Journalism Quarterly, Vol. 42, 1965, pp. 253-261. 23 See: C. Connelly-Ahern, J.G. Guy, “Press Freedom and Religion: Measuring the Association between Press Free- dom and Religious Composition.” Journal of Media and Religion, Vol. 6, No. 1, 2007, pp. 63-76. 24 See: R. Shafer, E. Freedman, “Press Constraints as Obstacles to Establishing Civil Societies in Central Asia,” Jour- nalism Studies, Vol. 10, No. 6, 2009, pp. 851-869. 104 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 and Warsaw Pact countries. It proposed an exploratory matrix of external variables that included Is- lam as a majority religion as a possible factor explaining the lack of press freedom in Central Asia; other variables included whether a former Soviet republic had ever been an independent country. We believe that the impact of the last variable—a history of prior independence—although less quantitative than others, should not be underestimated. None of these five countries were nations of their own before 1991. As a result, many journalists felt—and perhaps still feel—a duty of citizenship to advance their young countries’ national identity, spirit of statehood, and bid for international respect and recognition. Only a few scholars have surveyed or interviewed journalists or journalism educators about professional matters.25 However, those studies did not delve deeply into respondents’ core feelings and attitudes toward nationalism and how those attitudes and feelings affect performance of their professional responsibilities. Such an interpretation of journalists’ responsibility may further impede development of a sustainable independent press and prolong restraints on the mass media. Self-censorship is also relevant to journalists’ attitudes and willingness to comply with constraints. Even in countries where official censorship was abolished, self-censorship deters professionals who otherwise might advance the role of the press as a responsible, independent guardian over government, business, criminal organizations, and other political and economic forces.26 It is essential to recognize self-censorship as a pragmatic shield—a defensive mechanism—against the types of harassment, assault, arrest, loss of licenses, seizure of publications, and other risks described in this article. That ambiguity was evident in a December 2009 when the Institute for Public Policy hosted a roundtable discussion in Bishkek about self-censorship. “Why does self-censorship exist in the political arena?” one participant asked. “Because journalists are not sure of their protection. Because … journalists have their own employers.”27 However, another participant said: “Self-censorship implies self-limitation. It is necessary for all. Not only journalists use self-censorship, or self-restraint. We should accept the idea that self-censorship among journalists should be treated calmly; it is not a dirty word.”28

The Impact of Western Trainers on Journalistic Practices in Central Asia

The influx of foreign trainers and media development funds since independence reflects a fundamental Western belief in the cornerstone role that a free press places in democratic societies. Not

25 See: E. Freedman, Dimming Lights and Deepening Shadows over Press Rights in Kyrgyzstan, Paper presented to the Association for Education in Journalism & Mass Communication, 2010; M.J. Namecek, J. Maureen, S. Ketterer, G. Ibrayeva, S. Los, “Journalism Education and Professional Training in Kazakhstan: From the Soviet Era to Independence,” in: After the Czars and Commissars: Journalism in Authoritarian Post-Soviet Central Asia, ed. by E. Freedman, R. Shafer, Michigan State University Press, East Lansing, Mich. (forthcoming); G. Pitts, “Professionalism among Journalists in Kyr- gyzstan,” in: After the Czars and Commissars: Journalism in Authoritarian Post-Soviet Central Asia. 26 See: P. Gross, T. Kenny, “Journalistic Self-Censorship and the Tajik Press in the Context of Central Asia,” in: After the Czars and Commissars: Journalism in Authoritarian Post-Soviet Central Asia; E. Freedman, “Dimming Lights and Deepening Shadows over Press Rights in Kyrgyzstan.” 27 E. Mamyrkanov, “Remarks, ‘How Does Self-Censorship Affect the Coverage of Political Conflicts?’” Institute for Public Policy, 2009, p. 8. 28 A. Tynaev, “Remarks, ‘How Does Self-Censorship Affect the Coverage of Political Conflicts?’” Institute for Public Policy, 2009, p. 6. 105 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS surprisingly, Western professionals and educators who lecture and train in the region often come to Central Asia with a missionary zeal and commitment to facilitate change—quickly and, of course, for the better. Foreign trainers often fail to recognize the continued importance to Central Asian journalists of: cultural, historical, and religious values; awakened nationalism; creation of state identities; traditions of authoritarian rule; lack of market support for independent media; surviving Soviet-era practices and attitudes; and the emigration or exile of many talented, independent-thinking journalists. Many foreign academics and trainers implicitly assume that concepts of civil society and press independence as rooted in Western democracies can be transposed largely intact to other cultural, political, and economic contexts. As Offe said: “While democratic institutions and economic resources can be ‘transplanted’ from the outside world (or their introduction facilitated and their durability protected by a host of positive and negative sanctions designed to support and strengthen new democratic regimes), the civic ‘spirit’ or ‘mental software’ that is needed to drive the hardware of the new institutions is less easily influenced by external intervention. The rise of a robust ‘civil society’ cannot be initiated from the outside.”29 Nelson provides this Western perspective on the mission of foreign trainers: “Media development entails a coordinated effort to advance the common good through the free flow of information, especially in societies that have lived under severe political or economic constraints. The ‘common good’ presumes that projects go beyond the provision of technology to include some engagement with content or function in partnership with serious content providers. Media development contributes some ‘leave-behind’ value, through structural benefits that remain after the implementation is complete.”30 To advance that underlying philosophy, foreign governments, multinational agencies, media development NGOs, foreign news organizations, and foreign universities have spent millions of dollars on media development efforts in Central Asia. Trainings for professionals and journalism students include skills and content production, curriculum and faculty development at universities, and “promotion of new media platforms for advocacy, research, and information campaigns, especially related to public health and human rights.”31 It is impossible to quantify whether or how much Western-led training has changed or improved news coverage or the personal security and freedom of journalists themselves. Yet it is evident that massive foreign expenditures to develop “democratic journalism” and related democratic institutions have not changed regime attitudes. Specifically, they have not induced those regimes to allow press freedom. To the contrary, Fawn observes that such post-Soviet regimes “see such NGO activity as pernicious and destabilizing.”32 That is true although the regimes have generally tolerated Western trainers as a transparent subterfuge that appears to cater to democratization pressures from funders and attempts to counteract the negative publicity emanating from press rights defender and human rights groups. Advocates of journalistic independence and professionalism and defenders of press rights face daunting challenges as they try to better determine how and why free press systems prosper in a few other former Soviet republics and most European former communist nations. Are any of the approaches,

29 C. Offe, “Cultural Aspects of Consolidation: A Note on the Peculiarities of Postcommunist Transformations,” Eastern European Constitutional Review, Vol. 6, No. 4, 1997, available at [www1.law.nyu.edu/eecr/vol6num4/special/ culturalaspects.html. 67]. 30 A. Nelson, U.S. Universities and Media Development, Report to the Center for International Media Assistance, 2010, available at [http://cima.ned.org/sites/default/files/CIMA-US_Universities_and_Media_Development-Report.pdf. 4]. 31 Ibid., p. 6. 32 R. Fawn, “‘Bashing about Rights’? Russia and the ‘New’ EU States on Human Rights and Democracy Promotion,” Europe-Asia Studies, Vol. 61, No. 10, 2010, p. 1788. 106 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 strategies, and techniques that succeeded in the Baltics, Hungary, and Poland realistically, culturally, politically, and affordably adaptable for Central Asia? Whether such Western efforts have succeeded in substantively improving professional skills and protecting journalists elsewhere in the erstwhile Soviet republics remains questionable. The same question arose recently in Georgia, which has a “partly free” press system.33 Since independence, the United States, European Union, Open Society Institute, and other funders have spent heavily on media development there. As Corso observed, “The overriding message from donors, media watchdogs, and journalists alike is that success is hard to gauge and expectations should be realistic.”34 Even so, we would argue that simply teaching journalists and students the skills necessary to do fact-based journalism has value in itself. We believe that professional development without ideology can and should promote fairness, balance, accuracy, ethics, and use of credible sources for information.

The Internet: Alternative Provider of a Plurality of News Sources?35

Does the Internet provide a viable and effective platform for a diversity of viewpoints and information that offsets official and unofficial limitations on news and information content in state and private print and broadcast media? In other words, is the Web now an alternative to traditional media in Central Asia? These questions might be relevant in countries where the population is technology-savvy, where the Internet is readily accessible and affordable, where users have the time and interest to explore multiple sites in languages they know, where users have a basis to assess the credibility of websites, and where government does not block sites. Those preconditions do not exist sufficiently in the region. First, low Internet penetration rates (see Table 2) ranging from 1.6 percent in Turkmenistan to 39.8 percent in Kyrgyzstan show that only a minority of Central Asians have any online access. There is no data on whether those users read independent or oppositional news sites and, if so, how often and for how long. A study of an independent advocacy blog in the run-up to Kyrgyzstan’s 2005 Tulip Revolution36 found no direct link between advocacy blogs and the downfall of the Akaev regime. Administrators of the online opposition newspaper gazeta.kg launched that website after the government blocked or hacked their own site; it was accessed primarily by users outside Kyrgyzstan. How- ever, the experience suggests that new technologies may help counterbalance press controls and governmental information management by providing a space where anonymity can shield bloggers with little risk of tracing and where readers can engage in commentary and dialog.

33 See: Freedom of the Press 2010, Freedom House, Washington, 2010, available at [www.freedomhouse.org]. 34 M. Corso, “Media Training in Georgia: How Much Bang for the Buck?” Eurasianet.org, 24 June, 2010. 35 Unless cited to another source, information in this section is drawn from the U.S. Department of State; Commit- tee to Protect Journalists; Freedom House; Reporters without Borders; Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty; International Research & Exchanges Board; International Media Support; Eurasietnet.org; Institute for War & Peace Reporting; and In- ternational Freedom of Expression eXchange. 36 See: S.V. Kulikova, D.D. Perlmutter, “Blogging Down the Dictator: The Kyrgyz Revolution and Samizdat Web- sites,” International Communication Gazette, Vol. 69, No. 1, 2007, pp. 29-50. 107 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

An international press rights NGO’s roster of “Enemies of the Internet” classifies Turkmen- istan and Uzbekistan among the world’s ten worst violators of online freedom of expression. Writ- ing about Uzbekistan, Reporters without Borders said: “In this country deprived of independent media outlets, the authorities impose a very strict Internet censorship, while refusing to admit it publicly. Website filtering, sanctions and intimidations are used against potential critics of the regime.”37 Among the sites blocked partly or wholly are the online news agency www.Ferghana.ru and the Central Asian News Service; social networking sites including Livejournal, MySpace, Facebook, and Twitter “are sporadically inaccessible.” In Turkmenistan, the government blocks Ferghana.ru, Eurasianet, and opposition sites; in September 2010, it banned the popular social networking site agent.mail.ru. And in Kazakhstan, state-owned Internet provider Kazakhtelecom cut off access to the independent news portal Respublika and the website of affiliated Respublika-Delovoye Obozreni- ye. Governments sometimes rationalize such limitations on the basis of security. For example, the sponsor of legislation in Kyrgyzstan to subject the Internet to the same regulations as traditional media cited terrorist organizations, saying: “Through the global network, they promote their ideas and recruit new people, posting instructions on how to manufacture explosive devices and make poisons.”38 Affordability poses another major deterrent to Internet use. For instance, Reporters without Borders describes the cost of access as “prohibitive” for most residents in Turkmenistan.39 Regulation is another serious deterrent: The Uzbek government imposes regulations that undermine freedom of expression on legal and ideological grounds by enforcing legal rules on information security and the ideological “idea of national independence.”40 Libel laws further deter Internet use to disseminate news and opinion deemed critical of the regimes: In Tajikistan, the government extended libel laws to the Web, stifling communication and reinforcing self-censorship.41

Prognosis

We anticipate ongoing efforts to instill Western skills and values in today’s and tomorrow’s Central Asian journalists but are pessimistic that such efforts will catalyze meaningful improvement in the media environment. Despite uncertainties about the long-term effectiveness of externally generated media development activities, activities to build the capacity for “democratic journalism” continue. Among them in 2010: A course for Kazakhstani civil society activists and journalists on combating corruption and money laundering; it was organized by OSCE in collaboration with Kazakhstan’s Financial Police, Friedrich Ebert Foundation and Transparency Kazakhstan.42 In Kyrgyzstan, the U.S. Embassy awarded a $111,000 grant to help convert state broadcast company KTR to a public television and radio channel and to “create an informative, fair, unbiased and interactive TV platform for

37 “Internet Enemies: Uzbekistan,” Reporters without Borders, 2010, available at [http://en.rsf.org/internet-enemie- uzbekistan,36688.html]. 38 R. Safin, “Online Journalism in Kyrgyzstan: Problems and Prospects,” Institute for Public Policy, 23 September, 2008. 39 See: “Internet Enemies: Turkmenistan,” Reporters without Borders, 2010, available at [http://en.rsf.org/internet- enemie-turkmenistan,36692.html]. 40 Zh. Kozhamberdiyeva, “Freedom of Expression on the Internet: A Case Study of Uzbekistan,” Review of Central & East European Law, Vol. 33, No. 1, 2008, pp. 95-134. 41 See: K.M. Kohlmeier, N. Nekbakhtshoev, “Internet Libel Law and Freedom of Expression in Tajikistan,” in: Af- ter the Czars and Commissars: Journalism in Authoritarian Post-Soviet Central Asia. 42 See: “OSCE Centre Organizes Course on Combating Corruption for Civil Society, Media in Southern Kazakhstan,” Press Release, Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe, 23 August, 2010. 108 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 discussion of major issues regarding the present and the future of the country;” citizens also will get “first-hand information prior to the parliamentary elections [through] a live, professionally moderat- ed, censorship-free TV talk-show to a nationwide audience.”43 For reasons detailed in this article, overall prospects appear poor for rapid, substantive improvements in the press environment. On a regional scale, the OSCE Representative on Freedom of the Media issued a July 2010 report that included all five countries, along with former Soviet republics Azerbaijan, Russia, Belarus, Ukraine, and Georgia, among those most deserving of criticism for abusing press rights. Recent events signal significant roadblocks ahead if the media environment is to improve. As reported by the Committee to Protect Journalists, RFE/RL, and the Insti- tute for War & Peace Reporting, events during the summer of 2010 highlight roadblocks to press freedom: In Kazakhstan, for example, the editor of the newspaper Alma-Ata Info launched a hunger strike to protest his illegal imprisonment. In Uzbekistan, police detained a journalist for filming refugees fleeing into the country to escape ethnic violence in Kyrgyzstan. Thus we fear that the region’s repressitarian leaders—or in Kyrgyzstan, the new leaders of a constitutionally restructured “parliamentary democracy”—will not accept any key elements of democratic journalism models or alternative models of free press systems as become steppingstones along the path toward freer—if not free—press systems. At most, there are faint glimmerings of hope for improvement. For example, August 2010 marked the launch of Imruz News (News Today), the first daily newspaper in Tajikistan since independence, with coverage of economics, politics, and foreign news, as well as overseas correspondents. It is ed- ited by a veteran journalist with a reputation for criticizing the government and president but reportedly is financed with a loan from the president’s brother-in-law.44 In Turkmenistan, President Berdy- mukhammedov pledged to allow the nation’s first privately owned publications since independence, although press rights activists expressed deep skepticism about whether that pledge would be hon- ored.45 The best prospects for change appear to be in Kyrgyzstan. After its March 2010 coup, the OSCE’s Representative on Freedom of the Media offered to help the interim government with “ongoing efforts to restore media freedom in the country,” including n Facilitating the discussion of the role of independent media and public service broadcasting and a national multi-partisan platform regarding the role of media, n Introducing safety practices for media professionals, including fluorescent vests that visibly distinguish journalists on duty and a free-media hotline for journalists to report cases of intimidation or violence against them, n Assisting in identification of partner organizations to conduct professional training for public service broadcasting staff.46 The country’s then-president replied that the government’s goals included ensuring journalists’ safety, advancing “universal standards of free press and restoring the media system in the country.”47 Even after that response, however, authorities charged the editor of an independent newspaper and a journalist, who is also a human rights activist, with extremism, incitement to

43 U.S. Embassy, Kyrgyzstan, 2010, available at [www.facebook.com/usembassy.bishkek]. 44 See: F. Najibullah, “Daily Ambitions,” Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, 30 August, 2010. 45 See: A. Khan, “Scepticism over Independent Press Pledge in Turkmenistan,” Institute for War & Peace Reporting, RCA 615, 2 August, 2010. 46 See: D. Mijatoviæ, Regular Report to the Permanent Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe, available at [www.osce.org/documents/html/pdftohtml/45552_en.pdf.html], 29 July, 2010. 47 Ibidem. 109 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS ethnic hatred, and complicity to murder. And after inconclusive but generally fair parliamentary elections in October 2010, the stability of the country’s new structure of governance is yet to be demonstrated.

CONTROVERSY ON THE AIRWAVES: PUBLIC DIPLOMACY, PORTRAYING AMERICA, AND PUBLIC OUTREACH THROUGH THE VOICE OF AMERICA UZBEK SERVICE

Navbahor IMAMOVA International Broadcaster, Voice of America (Washington, D.C., U.S.)

Richard J. SCHAEFER Associate Professor of Mass Communication, University of New Mexico (Albuquerque, NM, U.S.)

Richard SHAFER Professor of Journalism, Department of English, University of North Dakota (Grand Forks, ND, U.S.)

Eric FREEDMAN Associate Professor of Journalism & Associate Dean of International Studies & Programs, Michigan State University (East Lansing, MI, U.S.)

Introduction

n the United States, government-sponsored been intermittently controversial, with opposing broadcast services such as Voice of America sides in the decades-long debate divided between I (VOA) directed to foreign audiences have conservative and liberal political forces. Con-

The authors’ views do not represent the official viewpoint of the Voice of America. 110 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 servatives generally hold that the U.S. should casters.1 Among those studies, many focused on promote democracy globally and use what they activities during the Cold War in furtherance of consider benign propaganda techniques, includ- democratic movements and as a counterweight to ing international broadcasts of news and infor- Soviet propaganda broadcasts, not on the post- mation that is truthful, entertaining, and support- Cold War period. ive American popular culture. Critics of VOA Thus this article reviews the history and and other taxpayer-funded broadcasters argue programming of another broadcasting child of that a country with a strong democratic tradition the Cold War, VOA and its Uzbek Service. It does not need to rely on “propaganda” to extend uses Uzbekistan as a case study of how one its influence. They assert that such broadcasts Western international broadcaster counters one selectively focus on authoritarian governments authoritarian regime’s pervasive system of me- that are deemed unfriendly to the U.S. or of sig- dia controls. That history in the context of nificant strategic or economic value to U.S. in- VOA’s contemporary operations provides interests. They also accurately note that such sights regarding conflicting characterizations of broadcasting is rarely directed at nations with the broadcaster as a largely beneficial and benev- authoritarian or dictatorial governments that co- olent arm of U.S. public diplomacy or a sophis- operate with the U.S. and have military allianc- ticated, subtle agent of U.S. propaganda and es or close economic ties with the U.S. In addi- geopolitical aspirations. tion, liberals express concern that such broad- The article looks at the establishment and casts might subvert popular reform and nation- current status of VOA broadcasting to Uzbekistan, alist movements that conflict with U.S. econom- which has been an on-and-off ally of the U.S. “war ic, strategic, or diplomatic objectives. against terrorism” in the Middle East and to a less- One such example is Radio Marti, a U.S. er extent in Central Asia. Uzbekistan presents an interesting and important case study of a country government-funded entity that broadcasts news that had been integrated into the Soviet empire for and entertainment to Cuba and is promoted as a seven decades. Its relevance to Western nations means to encourage democratization, with the less lies in valuable geopolitical, economic, and per- clearly stated purpose of bringing down the gov- haps neocolonial opportunities that were created ernment of Fidel and Raul Castro. Like VOA and when the Soviet Union collapsed in 1991, tempo- Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty (RFE/RL), rarily leaving a vacuum to be filled by other ex- Radio Marti is a child of the Cold War and West- ern anticommunism. Launched in 1983 during the Reagan administration and first on the air on 20 1 See, for example: U. Bah, “Daniel Lerner, Cold War Propaganda and U.S. Development Communication May, 1985, it now offers 24-hour-a-day radio Research: An Historical Critique,” Journal of Third World short-wave and medium-wave programming. In Studies, No. 25 (1), 2008, pp. 183-198; A. Iskandar, “Speak- 1990, television broadcasts to Cuba began through ing to the Enemy: U.S. Government Public Diplomacy and TV Marti. Discourses of Cultural Hybridity,” Paper presented to the International Communication Association, 2008; L. Camaj, Debate continues about the effectiveness of “The New World Order and ‘the Voices’: International Ra- such broadcasts. As with Radio Free Europe dur- dio Broadcasters after the Cold War,” Paper presented to the ing the Cold War, it is difficult to measure a sta- International Association for Media and Communication Research, 2008; C.D. Hill, “Voices of Hope: The Story of tion’s actual audience through typical listener Radio Free Europe and Radio Liberty,” Hoover Digest, surveys, although efforts are made to do so. No. 4, 2001; N. Imamova, “International Broadcasting to Thus, the true number of listeners and their de- Central Asia: The Voice of Reason or Opposition?” Central Eurasian Studies Review, No. 3 (2), 2006, pp. 43-47; S.J. Un- mographics, let alone the depth and extent of gar, “Pitch Imperfect: The Trouble at the Voice of Ameri- their influence on audience attitudes, are specu- ca,” Foreign Affairs, No. 84 (7), 2005, pp. 7-13; S.J. Parry- lative. Giles, “Rhetorical Experimentation and the Cold War, 1947- 1953: The Development of an Internationalist Approach to There has been little academic research pub- Propaganda,” Quarterly Journal of Speech, No. 80, 1994, lished about U.S. government-sponsored broad- pp. 448-467. 111 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS pansionist and opportunity-seeking nations. These closely with Russia, or impeding U.S. economic external economic and political forces had to con- activities. The reasons why the U.S. chose not to tend with the near-dictatorial government of new- actively support Karimov’s ouster and refrained ly independent Uzbekistan under President Islam from endorsing his mostly underground opposi- Karimov, who was the pre-independence and tion include Uzbekistan’s general stability and post-independence head of government. Kari- willingness to control insurgencies and internal mov’s interests and those of the U.S. and its Eu- Islamic fundamentalist movements. The U.S. con- ropean allies were generally in harmony through sidered that critical to contain such insurgencies the 1990s and the first years of this century. The and movements to the south of Uzbekistan in most recent Bush Administration courted Uz- neighboring Afghanistan and in Iraq. Uz- bekistan after the 11 September, 2001 attacks on bekistan’s vast wealth of mineral, natural gas, and the International Trade Center and the Pentagon, other resources provided another reason to avoid and the subsequent invasion of Iraq by the U.S. antagonizing and alienating the regime. and British-organized coalition. Karimov support- In that context the article examines the role ed U.S. military facilities in Uzbekistan until they of the VOA Uzbek Service. It reviews the history were removed in 2005. of the press in Uzbekistan during and after the As the regime’s human rights abuses and Soviet era, the history of VOA and its Uzbek-lan- disregard for democratic reforms and extreme guage programming, and some of the U.S. polit- forms of authoritarian control continually embar- ical and policy considerations that affect the Serv- rassed the U.S., it became in the U.S.’s best inter- ice. It concludes with a discussion of the Service’s ests to advocate for reforms—but only cautious- future and the unresolved question of whether its ly and diplomatically, lest Karimov retaliate by broadcasts constitute propaganda, public diploma- evicting U.S. troops, allying Uzbekistan more cy or some blend of both labels.

Uzbekistan’s Media in the Soviet Era

Given that a major Uzbek Service mission is to supply news and information to a country with no system of independent mass media, it is important to briefly discuss the press in Uzbekistan before independence in 1991. With the Russian Revolution came an overhaul of the existing czarist-era press system in what would become the Uzbek Soviet Socialist Republic. For the next seven decades, writers and journalists working for state agencies and media were fully integrated into the Soviet system, serving as advocates and guides for socialist experiments and as supporters of centralized economic plans. Hopkins cites a common reference list of values and virtues that were guidelines for the press throughout the U.S.S.R.: (1) Party orientation (partiinost); (2) high level of ideology (vysokaia ideinost); (3) truthfulness (pravdivost), the requirement to provide information truthfully; (4) popular orientation (narodnost); (5) mass character (massovost); and (6) criticism and self-criticism (kritika and samokritika).2

2 See: M.W. Hopkins, Mass Media in the Soviet Union, Pegasus, New York, 1970, p. 34. 112 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

Although Uzbekistan was far from Moscow, its journalists contributed to the legitimization of continued Russian/Soviet domination of Central Asia and of the country’s Cold War policies of militarization and confrontation with the West. Uzbekistani journalists were active in, or at least com- plicit with, Russian occupation of Eastern and Central Europe. They propagandized for communist- imperialist expansion in the developing world, culminating in the invasion and failed occupation of Afghanistan. In fairness to this somewhat-critical overview of a monolithic Soviet press system and the complicity of its journalists, the mass media also encouraged journalistic professionalism and competency and facilitated unification of disparate cultures and ethnic groups. It also propagandized to reduce religious strife.3 After the Soviet Union collapsed in 1991, Uzbekistan launched its difficult nation-building process, including integration of culturally and linguistically diverse minority populations. One challenge was to modify or dismantle Soviet structures, among them state-controlled media informed by Marx- ist-Leninist theory and Communist party policies. Reducing the effects of these institutions would prove complex, in part because many journalists trained before the early 1990s were reluctant to abandon the benefits of state employment and the perks of elite-status intellectual workers.

The Post-Independence Press

The contemporary Uzbek press remains highly constrained. Although forms of censorship and guiding ideology have changed, the Karimov regime has not deviated far from Soviet policies of near- total control of the press. For example, the Uzbekistan News Agency cooperates closely with Kari- mov’s staff to prepare and disseminate officially sanctioned news and information, while the government’s press and information agency monitors and controls all media, according to a U.S. State De- partment human rights report.4 The Cabinet of Ministers owns and oversees three of the most influential national daily newspapers, Pravda Vostoka (Russian language), Halq So’zi (Uzbek language), and Narodnoe Slovo (Russian language). The national government, government-controlled political parties, the municipal government in the capital city of Tashkent, and regional administrations own or control several other daily and weekly publications. Additional constraints include banning newspapers that do not meet the law’s standards for a “mass media agency,” including appointing a board of directors acceptable to the government. The regime allows the operation of a few limited-circulation, privately owned newspapers containing advertising, feature stories, and horoscopes, with little or no substantive news or editorial content. Russian-language papers Novosti Uzbekistana, Noviy Vek, and Biznes Vestnik Vostoka are permitted; their predominant content is news and editorials favorable to the government. Also allowed are two Uzbek-language newspapers, Hurriyat, owned by the Journalists’ Association, and Mohiyat, owned by Turkiston Press, a nongovernmental information agency loyal to the state. Government-run channels dominate television broadcasting. VOA, RFE/RL, and the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC) do not have permission to broadcast from inside Uzbekistan, and the government refuses to accredit foreign journalists and local correspondents for those and other Western media, such as Reuters and the Associated Press. As for the Internet, the government runs

3 See: E. Freedman, R. Shafer, G. Rice, “Training Central Asian Journalists: Soviet Legacies Meet Lessons from U.S. Media History,” Central Asia and the Caucasus, No. 5 (41), 2006, p. 156-168. 4 See: “2009 Human Rights Reports: Uzbekistan,” U.S. Department of State, 11 March, 2010. 113 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS official sites such as the National News Agency’s UzA.uz and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs’ Jahonnews.uz. Reporting by purportedly independent Web sites such as Press-uz.info, Gorizont.uz, and Region.uz reflected the government’s viewpoint.5 In another potent obstacle to press freedom, “[t]he criminal and administrative codes impose significant fines for libel and defamation. The government used charges of libel, slander, and defamation to punish journalists, human rights activists, and others who criticized the president or the government.”6

Origins of the VOA

VOA is the largest U.S. government-sponsored international multilingual multimedia broadcaster and is administered by the Broadcasting Board of Governors (BBG), whose members are appointed by the U.S. president. BBG also manages Radio Marti; Arabic-language Alhurra TV and Radio Sawa; Radio Farda and the Persian News Network broadcasting to Iran; Radio Free Asia; and RFE/RL. Its International Broadcasting Bureau (IBB) handles engineering, administrative, and oversight functions, as well as marketing and program placement for these stations.7 The fundamental assumption for each of these stations is that people in societies isolated from independent news outlets want to know what is happening inside and beyond their borders, and thus they turn to international broadcasters to fill that informational gap.8 Although BBG stations clearly serve the interests of the U.S. government, VOA claims a high degree of objectivity and presents its content as a service to the underserved in less-free nations. While each broadcast entity has a unique mission, the central goal of all U.S. international broadcasters is to provide underserved populations with balanced news coverage in areas where a free and open press does not exist or has not been firmly established. The open exchange of information and ideas, in turn, is designed to serve the interests of the United States by promoting international peace and stability.9 The VOA Charter of 1976 and its 1995 Journalistic Code set programming standards designed to reinforce credibility and, in the case of the code, to require accurate and objective reporting. The Code states that reporters and broadcasters: “…must strive for accuracy and objectivity in all their work. They do not speak for the U.S. government… VOA professionals strive for excellence and avoid imbalance or bias in their broadcasts. VOA is alert to, and rejects, efforts by special interest groups, foreign or domestic, to use its broadcasts as a platform for their own views.”10 After World War II, the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) loaned Archibald Roosevelt Jr., a grandson of former President Theodore Roosevelt, to VOA as director of the Middle East, which administratively included Central Asia. In that role, Roosevelt planned Uzbek, Caucasus (Azeri, Ar- menian, Georgian), and short-lived Tatar programming. He believed in VOA’s power to reach the small republics of the Soviet Union. As a professional intelligence agent, he had good knowledge of the

5 See: “2009 Human Rights Reports: Uzbekistan,” U.S. Department of State, 11 March, 2010. 6 Ibidem. 7 See: “About the BBG: An Organization of U.S. International Broadcasters,” Broadcasting Board of Governors, 2008, available at [http://www.bbg.gov/bbg_aboutus.cfm]. 8 See: L.L. Zhang, “Are They Still Listening? Reconceptualizing the Chinese Audience of the Voice of America in the Cyber Era,” Journal of Radio Studies, Vol. 9, No. 2, 2002, pp. 317-337. 9 See: “U.S. International Broadcasting: Strategic Planning and Performance Management System Could be Im- proved,” U.S. General Accounting Office, GAO/NSIAD-00-222, 2000, p. 3. 10 See: “Journalistic Code,” Voice of America, 2005, available at [http://www.voanews.com/english/About/ JournalisticCode.cfm]. 114 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 region and Turkic languages, which he had learned while mastering Turkish and studying Central Asian history. In his memoir, he wrote that childhood exposure to British writer Rudyard Kipling made him aware of the aggressive Russian advance eastward through Turkistan, the region that encompasses Uzbekistan and other parts of formerly Soviet Central Asia. The region had been under Russian influence or rule in czarist times and was incorporated into the U.S.S.R. after the Bolshevik Revolution. In later travels to Iran, Roosevelt sympathized with the struggle of the Turkic peoples, whose place in history and the modern world he sought to showcase at VOA.11 Soon after launching programs to the Middle East, VOA officials discussed whether to add broadcasts to non-Slavic peoples of the Soviet Union. “A few unusual visitors began trickling into my office, immigrants from Russia’s Asian borders…,” Roosevelt recalled. “I was also visited by a Turkistani who arranged to have sent to me regularly an émigré publication, ‘Turkistan,’ published in Munich.” That publication was printed in the Latin alphabet; with his knowledge of Turkish, he could read it with less difficulty, but ended up speaking with the Uzbek visitor in Russian. According to Roosevelt, Central Asian representatives heavily lobbied for programming in their native languages but opposed having them controlled by the VOA Russian Service director, a Soviet defector, whom they considered a “Russian chauvinist.”12 VOA leaders and other government officials disagreed about the strategic wisdom of broadcasting into the U.S.S.R., with opponents arguing that U.S. propaganda would antagonize the Soviet public. Roosevelt prevented a Russian from directing Turkic-language programming for VOA, but the State Department issued a directive that program content should not offend Soviet—meaning Rus- sian—nationalism. Roosevelt chose Uzbek as the only indigenous language for broadcasts to Central Asia. One reason was that BBG’s Radio Liberty already broadcast in Kazakh, Tajik, Kyrgyz, and Turkmen. In addition, VOA had limited resources, and Uzbekistan was the region’s most populous Soviet republic.13 The first Uzbek-language broadcasts aired in February 1956.14 By that time, however, Roosevelt had re- turned to the CIA. There were subsequent interruptions in Uzbek broadcasting for staff and fiscal reasons. As the Cold War wound down and new independent states emerged in the region, important organizational changes took place at VOA. Between 1993 and 1997, the Central Asia Division encompassed Uzbek, Persian, Turkish, Dari, Pashto, and Azeri services. In a later realignment of language divisions, the Uzbek Service came under the Near East and Central Asia Division.15

The Voice of America in Uzbekistan

VOA has an explicit mission of serving audiences that otherwise lack reliable news and information due to their own governments’ media controls and censorship. Thus in Uzbekistan, it proffers to provide viewers and listeners with an alternative to domestic broadcasts that are heavily censored or self-censored and controlled by the government and its ruling party and allies. Primarily because of

11 See: A. Roosevelt, For Lust of Knowing: Memoirs of an Intelligence Officer, Little, Brown, Boston, 1988. 12 See: Ibid., p. 235. 13 See: A.L. Heil Jr., Telephone interview with lead author, June 2005. 14 See: R. Nasar, Telephone interview with lead author, 17 July, 2005. 15 See: A.L. Heil Jr., op. cit. 115 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS its proven value during the Cold War, VOA has largely avoided the kind of political criticism in the U.S. that is directed at Radio Marti.16 Of the five authoritarian former Soviet republics in Central Asia, VOA broadcasts only to Uz- bekistan in its national language. One reason is Uzbekistan’s strategic location in relation to Pakistan, Afghanistan, and, to a lesser extent, Iraq. Regular VOA Uzbek Service radio broadcasts started in 1973 and were discontinued for short periods in the summers of 2001 and 2004. Since the mid-1980s, VOA Uzbek’s daily broadcasts have gradually declined from two hours to the present thirty-minute show. It has supplied TV programming to regional affiliates since 2003. The Service competes for audiences with two other principal Western, Uzbek-language international broadcasters, RFE/RL and the BBC.17 Uzbekistan maintains heavy-handed controls over the mass media to ensure minimal deviation from government-produced news and information within the country, where only the most compliant journalism practices are tolerated. Thus the domestic press generally fails to effectively or freely cover internal conditions, events, and controversies. It is also unable to act as a watchdog on government in other ways, such as analyzing and reporting on the complex international diplomatic and international trade relationships the government is pursuing. Examining the country’s human rights record for 2009, the State Department reports: “The government continued to commit serious abuses and authorities restricted political and civil liberties… Human rights activists and journalists who criticized the government were subject to physical attack, harassment, arbitrary arrest, politically motivated prosecutions, and forced psychiatric treatment.”18 Policies of tight media control, unofficial censorship, and self-censorship deny citizens the benefits of a dynamic and independent press system that can advance meaningful participatory voices, transparency, and the information needed to construct and sustain functioning civil society. Two decades after independence, lingering Soviet press practices still dull content and support disinforma- tion. In addition, the domestic press cannot generate sufficient advertising to become self-supporting because it cannot disseminate news that may attract mass audiences and advertisers. Uzbekistan officially abolished censorship in May 2002; in actuality, media constraints diminished little, and local journalists still feel compelled to avoid covering government-sensitive issues.19 Journalists find it difficult, and even dangerous, to advocate for looser press controls and economic reforms that might stimulate effective independent and potentially socially responsible mass media outlets. Human rights organizations consistently rank the country among the world’s worst in press rights. For example, Freedom House classifies its press system as “not free,” and the Committee to Protect Journalists, Reporters sans Frontieres, and other press rights defender groups frequently criticize the regime.20 Foreign governments, nongovernmental organizations (NGOs), and international media advocacy organizations have unsuccessfully tried to further press freedom and editorial independence, but such efforts are inherently suspect due to the regime’s concerns about the imposition of new forms of Western-based colonialism and hegemony. As an American government-sponsored agency broadcast-

16 For example, the head of the International Telecommunications Union’s Radio Communications Office has criticized Radio Marti and TV Marti transmissions as illegal. In addition, the Government Accountability Office (GAO, formerly General Accounting Office) has alleged that the station propagandizes through editorializing, incendiary language, unver- ified reporting, and unprofessionalism; management disputes such assertions. 17 See: N. Imamova, op. cit., pp. 43-47. 18 See: “2009 Human Rights Reports: Uzbekistan.” 19 See: R. Shafer, E. Freedman, “Obstacles to the Professionalization of Mass Media in Post-Soviet Central Asia: A Case Study of Uzbekistan,” Journalism Studies, Vol. 4, No. 1, 2003, pp. 91-103. 20 See: “Freedom of the Press 2008,” Freedom House, 2009, available at [http://www.freedomhouse.org]. 116 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 ing alternative news and information, VOA is routinely accused of complicity in furthering American ambitions for colonialism and hegemony, although it fervently denies such charges.

Programming for Multiple Media

The Uzbek Service maintains reporters in Tashkent, Uzbekistan, and Khujand, Tajikistan. Until October 2007, VOA heavily relied on its reporter in Osh, Kyrgyzstan, independent journalist Alisher Saipov; he had founded an Uzbek-language newspaper, ran a media group, and was well-known for his articles critical of the region’s governments. Unidentified assassins shot Saipov in front of his office, provoking a sharp response from press rights advocates.21 Due to such attacks and frequent harassment of journalists in this area, VOA has been unable to recruit another reporter in Osh. VOA’s daily radio shows air mainly on shortwave (SW) and medium wave (MW) in Uzbekistan and on 103 FM in Osh, a southern province of Kyrgyzstan—home to almost 120,000 ethnic Uzbeks.22 Radio broadcasts present hard news from around the world. The Service carries interviews with U.S. officials and lawmakers, analysts, insights from the region, and stories contextualizing the lives of Uzbek immigrants in the U.S. Radio broadcasts focus on regional developments in Central Asia and local issues in Uzbekistan. Coverage includes controversial issues such as corruption and human rights violations. The program also invites experts to comment on issues, as it did on 23 August, 2008, when environmentalists and researchers discussed Uzbekistan’s water crisis and the concerns of citizens whose voices were brought to the air through people-on-the-street interviews. The same month, the Service reported on child labor in the cotton industry by interviewing local farmers and officials and Europe- an and American business and advocacy groups. Another program in the same period featured an interview with Ahmed Rashid, whose book, Descent into Chaos: The United States and the Failure of Nation-Building in Pakistan, Afghanistan, and Central Asia, questioned Bush administration policies in the region. A weekly educational series answers questions from Uzbek youth interested in studying or working in the U.S. The Service invites students, professors, and NGO and government representatives to talk about opportunities, conditions, and exchange programs. VOA Uzbek also airs special segments where immigrants from Central Asia share their stories. For example, the 13 June, 2009, show featured Uzbeks talking about the joys and pains of making a new life in the U.S. The 28 July, 2008 edition of “Exploring America” featured an Uzbek model in the fashion industry; the 4 August, 2008, show presented the story of an immigrant family in Philadelphia. Weekend radio forums tackle critical issues, such as unemployment, human trafficking, and religious extremism. One of the most- discussed topics has been the situation of an estimated five million Uzbekistani migrant workers in Russia and Kazakhstan. In advance of the 2008 U.S. presidential elections, VOA Uzbek devoted considerable time to the coverage of the primaries and presidential candidates, as well as explaining how the country was preparing to elect a new leader. Its 18 August show included an analysis of race and politics, asking Americans whether they were ready to elect a Black president. Another show provided background on Democrats and Republicans and how the parties shape domestic and foreign policy.

21 See: “Kyrgyzstan: Ensure Justice for Murdered Journalist,” Statement, Human Rights Watch, 25 October, 2007, available at [http://hrw.org/english/docs/2007/10/25/kyrgyz17171.htm]. 22 See: Media Association of Ferghana Valley, 2005, available at [http://eng.fergana.org/about/region]. 117 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Obstacles within Uzbekistan

“Exploring America” is the first and, so far, only television programming in Uzbek and now airs weekly for a half-hour of news and features. The television project began in December 2003 when four local stations agreed to air its daily and weekly programs. VOA provided them with satellite dishes and other equipment for downloading the broadcast feed. By early 2004, the number of affiliates in Uzbekistan grew to fifteen, including Samarkand TV in Samarkand; Aloqa TV in Gulistan; Bakhtiyor TV in Jizzakh; Koinot TV in Bukhara; Margilan TV in Margilan; Turtkul TV in Karakalpakstan; and Channel 30 in Tashkent. Then-Director David Jackson said that the TV feeds and radio broadcasts would carry democratic values to the region and “will reach a broader audience than any other means available to the U.S. government.”23 Expanded public access to television raised the question of how to market it to the region. In its first year of working with the local TV stations, VOA Uzbek greatly benefited from cooperation with the country office of Internews Network, a U.S.-based NGO supporting local media development. That arrangement provided a networking opportunity for VOA and regional broadcasters airing VOA feeds. But by the end of 2004, the political environment was bleak for independent media. Internews was losing its battle with the Uzbek government over trumped-up charges that it violated laws governing NGOs, and the future looked ominous for other Western-funded, democracy-oriented NGOs. Complicating the Service’s venture into television was a new association of local broadcasters, engineered by a former member of the Presidential Press Office and media owner who had launched Samarkand TV in the mid-1990s and Poytaxt-Inform Radio in Tashkent in the early 2000s. The Na- tional Association of Electronic Mass Media of Uzbekistan (NAEMMU), a self-described professional union, was formed in 2004 to create a “civilized market for electronic media that provides equal conditions for all broadcasters and their active participation in building civil society.”24 Within a year, thirteen stations became members, most of them former Internews partners that had benefited from the NGO’s capacity-building activities. But independent-minded local broadcasters and the international community regarded NAEM- MU and its TV network—which sought to control the source of programming for all member stations— as a serious threat to independent television. According to Internews, NAEMMU’s true purpose was to influence broadcasters without overt government control. A special NAEMMU committee determined which programs would be broadcast based on conformity with national and cultural ideologies. In late 2004 and early 2005, four regional TV stations, most of them VOA affiliates, found their licenses suspended because, as their owners claimed, they refused to join NAEMMU from fear of losing credibility with their audiences. Many channels dropped “Exploring America” under pressure from the government, whose relationship with Washington had soured amid U.S. criticism of human rights abuses in Uzbekistan.

U.S. Politics, VOA, and the Uzbek Service

During the 1950s, President Dwight D. Eisenhower regarded VOA, RFE/RL, and their Central Asia services as mutually reinforcing. VOA was to be a source of accurate, balanced news about America

23 See: “VOA Debuts Uzbek-Language Television Reports,” Press Release, Voice of America, 12 December, 2003. 24 See: National Association of Electronic Mass Media of Uzbekistan, 2005, available at [http://www.naesmi.uz/russian/about]. 118 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 and the world. Meanwhile, RFE/RL was a privately incorporated, CIA-administered and government- funded network intended as an alternative or surrogate broadcaster in countries lacking democracy and freedom of the press and free expression. From 1953, when VOA became part of the new U.S. Information Agency, until the early 1960s, there were periodic radio councils in which leaders of VOA and RFE/RL met and coordinated activities. Alan L. Heil, Jr., former deputy director and author of Voice of America: A History, says that despite Eisenhower’s intent, during the tumultuous 1960s cooperation was not close and the networks viewed each other as rivals: “The VOA professional staff regarded the Munich [where Radio Free Europe and Radio Liberty were then headquartered] radios as propagandists, likely to twist the news to destabilize governments of the countries to which they broadcast. RFE and RL professionals, on the other hand, felt that VOA was amateurish and basically an official U.S. government gazette unfamiliar with the cultures and languages of the region to which both beamed broadcasts.”25 VOA has come under periodic scrutiny and political criticism. For example in 1965, Director Henry Loomis resigned when the Lyndon Johnson administration pressured the agency over its coverage of the expanding war in Southeast Asia. Loomis’ farewell speech said: “The Voice of America is not the voice of the administration.”26 More recently, on the operational side, the Government Accountability Office, the nonpartisan investigatory arm of the U.S. Congress, has reported critically about BBG’s management, planning, and effectiveness in the context of overall U.S. international broadcasting activities. A major theme of GAO criticism has been lack of research into audience needs and satisfaction and lack of reliable measures of effectiveness. In January 2000, BBG finished a comprehensive language service review intended to help strategically reallocate $4.5 million “from emerging democracies in Central and Eastern Europe to several African countries and selected countries in other regions and planned annual reviews to analyze broadcast priorities and funding.”27 Directly relevant to the Uzbek Service was the board’s intent to use its 2001 review to examine “program duplication” between VOA and surrogate language services, such as broadcasts to countries of the former Soviet Union, and to determine on a country-by- country basis whether overlap effectively served U.S. interests. At the time of the report, overlap existed between VOA and RFE/RL broadcasts in Uzbek, Armenian, Azerbaijani, Georgian, Rus- sian, and Ukrainian. In early 2001, BBG closed VOA Uzbek radio. Worldwide producer-presenter Kim Andrew Elliott questioned the rationale for that decision because Uzbekistan was among the countries with the least amount of press freedom. A 1998 audience survey had showed RFE/RL and BBC with a 3 percent weekly audience, while VOA had only 1.8 percent. But VOA numbers look better when considering that VOA transmitted only one half-hour per day in Uzbek, compared to four hours per day for Radio Liberty. Audiences for all the stations are higher among listeners with college edu- cations.28 By the summer of 2001, VOA Uzbek television broadcasts had been cut from one hour to a half-hour and then to only 15 minutes daily. Most contractors were laid off and only civil servants stayed to run the show. Just a few weeks later, the events of 11 September 2001 changed the situation. In the run-up to the U.S. invasion of Afghanistan, most laid-off staffers were recalled. By early 2002, the Service was enlarged with new recruits and air time increased to one hour daily.

25 See: A.L. Heil Jr., op. cit. 26 See: W. Grimes, “Henry Loomis, Who Led Voice of America, Is Dead at 89,” New York Times, 14 November, 2008, A27. 27 See: U.S. International Broadcasting: Strategic Planning and Performance Management System Could be Improved, p. 5. 28 See: K.A. Elliot, “Communications World,” Voice of America, 2001, available at [http://www.kimandrewelliott. com/Cw/cw_20010127.html]. 119 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

William Royce, then-advisor to the South and Central Asia Division, explained the BBG’s rationale: “We want the Uzbek people to receive reliable, accurate news and information on events in the world and in neighboring Afghanistan, along with clear statements of U.S. government policies and actions in the war against terrorism.”29 Although listenership numbers remained dis- couragingly low, the Service tried to diversify content, which mostly centered on human rights and political opposition-type stories. More call-in shows and discussions of the political scene in Uzbekistan were aired, and stringer coverage of government corruption and internal affairs was added to the programming mix. Meanwhile, renewed attention focused on BBG’s services as tools to build a positive world image of America’s in the aftermath of the terrorist attacks and the invasion of Afghanistan. That is when the government expanded public diplomacy initiatives to predominantly Muslim countries. That expansion included establishment of Radio Sawa in the Middle East, Radio Farda in Iran, and the Afghan- istan Radio Network to attract larger audiences. Subsequent GAO congressional testimony criticized the absence of an interagency strategy for communication efforts by BBG, the State Department, and other federal agencies. GAO reported that the State Department and BBG had not comprehensively and systematically measured progress toward their goals of improved public understanding of the U.S. and reaching broader audiences in priority markets.30 That critique of BBG’s lack of measurable program objectives to evaluate broadcast services mirrored GAO observations a year earlier; its prior report advocated such metrics of effectiveness as audience awareness, broadcaster credibility, and audience size in designated markets. It said BBG had not determined the appropriate level of overlap and duplication between VOA and other BBG services or the number of language services it can effectively carry.31 Iskandar reached similar conclusions in his study of Arabic-language Radio Sawa, finding “no cohesive and strategically at- tainable objective to the public diplomacy ventures illustrated by Radio Sawa.”32 Budget and staff cuts, coupled with political interference, sparked additional criticism. Former Director Sanford J. Ungar complained that VOA programming in critical languages such as Arabic was “being replaced with commercial-style shows featuring pop music and brief news bulletins,” while political intervention was evident as congressionally required editorials “now blend into or trump objective news reports.” He asserted that “other broadcasters and bloggers, many of them overtly hostile to the United States,” were filling the void.33 As for the reality of congressional intervention, the GAO pointed to a provision in the 1999 amendment to the International Broad- casting Act of 1994 expressing a sense of Congress statement “that RFE/RL should continue to broadcast to the peoples of Central Europe, Eurasia, and the Persian Gulf until such time as a particular nation has (1) clearly demonstrated the successful establishment and consolidation of democratic rule and (2) “firmly established a widely accessible domestic media that provides accurate, balanced, and comprehensive news and information to the national audience.”34

29 See: “Voice of America Goes Quiet in Uzbekistan,” Institute for War & Peace Reporting, Reporting Central Asia, Issue 307, 13 August, 2004. 30 See: J.T. Ford, “U.S. Public Diplomacy: State Department and Broadcasting Board of Governors Expand Post-9/ 11 Efforts but Challenges Remain,” Testimony before the Subcommittee on National Security, Emerging Threats, and In- ternational Relations, House Committee on Government Reform, GAO-04-1061T, 2004. 31 See: “U.S. International Broadcasting: New Strategic Approach Focuses on Reaching Large Audiences but Lacks Measurable Program Objectives,” U.S. General Accounting Office, GAO-03-772, 2003. 32 See: A. Iskandar, op. cit. 33 See: S.J. Ungar, op. cit., pp. 7-8. 34 See: “U.S. International Broadcasting: Enhanced Measure of Local Media Conditions Would Facilitate Decisions to Terminate Language Services,” U.S. General Accountings Office, GAO-04-374, 2004, p. 6. 120 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 Continuing Challenges

BBG’s 2004 budget request to Congress proposed eliminating seventeen Central and Eastern European language services — ten VOA and seven RFE/RL — affecting Bulgaria, Croatia, the Czech Republic, Estonia, Hungary, Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, Rumania, Slovakia, and Slovenia, but not Uzbekistan. However, a GAO analysis of that proposal reported “unstable media environments” remained in four of those countries and recommended that the board enhance its assessment of local media conditions to improve its language service review process. The budget proposal triggered a statement of congressional opinion that the Rumanian and Croatian services continue.35 With VOA Uzbek reaching its audience on radio and TV, and with growing interest in online content, the Service’s future seemed assured until late spring 2004, when BBG considered cance- ling its radio programming but strengthening its TV broadcasting. Brian Mabry, a senior IBB advisor, said access to commercial outlets had clear benefits because Uzbekistan’s tightly-controlled media meant U.S. broadcasters relied mostly on shortwave for radio. “While VOA has moved to broadcasting in Uzbek on television,” Mabry said, “its sister broadcaster Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty continues to reach Uzbekistan, broadcasting by shortwave and medium wave radio, with RFE/RL broadcasts seven hours of Uzbek-language radio daily.”36 At the time, VOA Uzbek had fewer weekly listeners than RFE/RL’s 2.4 percent or BBC’s 2.3 percent of the audience, according to InterMedia. When VOA Uzbek radio programming stopped again in July 2004, longtime listeners complained of losing an important source of news— a rare commodity in a country dominated by state-controlled media. Human rights organizations, such as Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch, and other NGOs, criticized the closure. The last radio broadcast aired 31 July, 2004 — the day after suicide bombers in Tashkent attacked the U.S. and Israeli embassies and a prosecutor’s office. Many complained that the new TV programming would not adequately substitute for lost radio shows since TV did not cover events inside the country or problems confronting people there. VOA’s TV affiliates lacked the credibility with the audience that its radio programs had. Some analysts in Washington, such as Martha Brill Olcott of the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, expressed regret. “Access to AM or FM airwaves in a competitive commercial market is difficult. But bad reception is better than no reception, which will now be the case in Uzbekistan.”37 Soon after the May 2005 uprising in the eastern Uzbekistan city of Andijan that led to the mas- sacre of hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people, Ismail Dahiyat, the division chief, sent a memo telling management that VOA should review its options on how to better reach Uzbekistan. Dahi- yat explained the outcome of two dramatic developments in the country. First was the creation of the “quasi-governmental” entity NAEMMU as an umbrella for all private or “independent” stations.38 As a result, he said, affiliates gradually but methodically dropped VOA programs. By late May, only a couple of stations still carried its feeds. Negotiations with the association were too slow to reach agreement, and judging from experience in dealing with the government, prospects did not seem reassuring, even if a deal were struck. The second cause for worry was the escalating crack- down on international media. With domestic media totally subservient to the regime and the situation in Uzbekistan volatile, U.S.-based groups, including the U.S. Commission on International Religious Freedom, advocated for more broadcasting to the country and for reinstatement of radio broadcasts.

35 Ibidem. 36 See: “Voice of America Goes Quiet in Uzbekistan.” 37 Ibidem. 38 See: I. Dahiyat, Telephone interview with lead author, July 2005. 121 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

Dahiyat suggested relaunching Uzbek radio programming on shortwave and medium wave, possibly from Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan, both home to tens of thousands of Uzbek speakers.39 In recent years, VOA found partners in Kyrgyzstan and Afghanistan and has tried to maintain their cooperation by providing technical assistance. Dahiyat sounded confident that current Service staff were ready, noting that it had three dynamic, highly qualified broadcasters and a contract employee who could mount a daily 30-minute radio show, with minimal additional cost for outside contractors. However, reestablishing broadcasts would carry costs, and it would be difficult for existing personnel to produce both a half-hour daily radio program and maintain a TV schedule. As a compromise, the Service dropped its 10-minute daily TV feeds but kept its 30-minute weekly TV news magazine. VOA resumed radio broadcasts to Uzbekistan on 12 June, 2005, within a month after the And- ijan uprising. Management explained: “We believe very strongly in the right of people to have access to news and information that affects their lives. We have been providing that service to you on television for nearly a year, but because of the recent events in Uzbekistan and the Uzbek government’s tightening of controls on foreign television broadcasts, we have decided to resume our radio broadcasts.”40 However, interruptions in programming have impaired VOA’s reputation in Uzbekistan as a timely, dependable, and accessible source of information. Although the Internet penetration rate in Uzbekistan is only 8.9 percent, VOA regards that medium as an effective way to attract younger audiences; the agency says Uzbek and other Turkic-language speakers on all continents read, listen to, and view its online content.41 Its Web sites, www.voanews. com/uzbek, www.amerikaovozi.com, and www.amerikaovozi.org had 260,533 regular visitors in 2007, mostly from Central Asia, Russia, Turkey, Europe, and the U.S.42 The Service now uses social media to reach younger Uzbeks inside and outside the country. It has a You Tube channel and maintains Facebook and Twitter pages. Both TV and radio broadcasts are also available on podcasts and iTunes. Since Uzbekistan blocks VOA’s main Web site, audiences can access content through these increasingly popular networks. Former director Ungar blames the virtual lack of a constituency inside the U.S. for VOA’s political problems at home.43 Few lawmakers know much about VOA, and he says “of the various iro- nies besetting U.S. foreign policy at the moment, one is both particularly acute and little recognized: even as the realization grows that the international image of the United States is in steep decline, the country’s best instrument of public diplomacy, the Voice of America, is being systematically diminished.”44 Although critics assert that a government-funded network should always portray American policies as righteous and successful, he claims that — in the right hands — such propaganda or public diplomacy could defuse anti-Americanism. Experience demonstrates that VOA is most appreciated and effective when functioning as a model U.S.-style news organization, according to Ungar: “By presenting a balanced view of domestic and international events, it exemplifies how independent journalism can strengthen democracy.”45 In 2007, audience research by InterMedia showed VOA to be the leading international broadcaster in Uzbekistan.46 Thus BBG’s proposal to eliminate it in 2008 shocked the Service and its advocates. BBG provided little explanation beyond noting that its budget was tight, requiring the sacrifice

39 See: I. Dahiyat, Telephone interview with lead author, July 2005. 40 See: “VOA to Resume Radio Broadcasts to Uzbekistan,” Press Release, Voice of America, 10 June, 2005. 41 See: Internet World Stats, 2009, available at [http://www.internetworldstats.com/asia/uz.htm]. 42 See: M. Messenger, “VOA Uzbek Program Review,” Washington, June 2008. 43 See: S.J. Ungar, op. cit. 44 Ibidem. 45 Ibidem. 46 See: Intermedia, Research Findings, November 2007. 122 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 of a few services that were struggling to increase audiences and that faced complex challenges to penetrate targeted regions. The board’s $668.2 million budget request called for a 3.8 percent increase from the anticipated fiscal 2007 level to expand programming to North Korea, Iran, Afghanistan, and Pakistan and to boost funding of the Arab-language satellite network Alhurra TV and Radio Sawa. Uzbek Service supporters argued that its elimination would impede the war on terrorism and efforts to instill democratic principles throughout Central Asia. A Washington Post editorial called the plan an attempt to silence America in a turbulent neighborhood heavily influenced by Russia. “Uzbekistan’s brutal dictatorship is of the sort that incubates religious fundamentalism and anti- Americanism,” the editorial said, adding that programming in Uzbek provides “about the only direct contact Uzbeks have with the U.S. and the only unvarnished news in the region. Meanwhile, the highly controlled Russian media beam their often misleading programming in with ease.”47 The newspaper also published an article about the proposed cuts. It included interviews with VOA broadcasters, analysts, and BBG officials in which advocates contended that the board had opted to bulldoze the Service rather than explore alternatives, including asking for higher appropriations to cover the cost of the doomed services, including Uzbek.48 In defense of its plan, BBG cited independent surveys showing a yearly decline in shortwave listeners and said satellite TV, FM radio, and the Internet are the wave of the future. Research showed that VOA’s Uzbek audience declined due to lack of publicity, marketing, and jamming. “The reception is poor,” respondents complained.49 Without broadcasting partners inside a media-hostile country, the board determined to drop the Service but perhaps increase funding for RFE/RL Uzbek, which delivered four hours of original radio programming on medium and short wave, the same ways VOA reached its audience. VOA Uzbek supporters countered that the Service already was delivering TV programs via satellite, airing radio shows through an FM affiliate, and focusing heavily on Internet coverage. VOA also stressed that it was a crucial source of trustworthy news and information for decision-makers and influential figures worldwide, a demographic that is difficult to quantify.50 InterMedia findings showed VOA still led by 4 percent over RFE/RL and the BBC, mainly because of TV programming accessed via satellite (ASIASAT and TURKSAT) and through Kyrgyz stations. Throughout 2007, “Exploring America” was also available on Ayna TV in Mazar-e-Sharif, Afghanistan, home to an Uzbek-speaking population in the north of the country. As a petition drive to save VOA Uzbek and other “endangered” services kicked off, Pakistani journalist Ahmed Rashid warned that the proposed cuts would reinforce the dictatorship in Uzbekistan, saying: “Ironically, just as the Bush administration is proposing a cutback in Uzbek-language broadcasting, both the European Parliament and the OSCE are urging greater media projection into Uzbekistan and training for Uzbek journalists in exile.”51 Rashid emphasized that broadcasts also reached ethnic Uzbeks in the other four Central Asian republics, the Uzbek diaspora in Turkey, Iran, Pakistan, and Saudi Arabia, and the powerful Uzbek warlord in Afghanistan, General Rashid Dostum. By the summer of 2007, the message from congressional appropriations and foreign relations committees and from individual lawmakers was that VOA Uzbek and other threatened services would survive another budget cycle. However, BBG still identified Iran and other parts of the Middle East as

47 See: “Silence of America; Cutting the VOA’s Presence in Mr. Putin’s Neighborhood,” The Washington Post, 16 February, 2007, A22. 48 See: D. Schrank, “VOA Says Goodbye to Uzbek, Other Tongues,” The Washington Post, 23 February, 2007, A13. 49 See: Intermedia, Research Findings, November 2007. 50 See: D. Schrank, op. cit. 51 See: A. Rashid, “Planned VOA Cuts Would Reinforce Dictatorship in Uzbekistan,” Eurasianet, 22 February, 2007. 123 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS priorities and sent another proposal to Congress in early 2008 to shut down the Service. In July 2008, however, management informed the Service that programming would continue as Congress had designated.

Conclusions and Implications

From a research perspective, this case study highlights the need for further research into BBG- sponsored international broadcast services, both individually and collectively. Such studies could include quantitative content analyses of program content, survey research of listeners and viewers, interview-based research with present and former BBG journalists and managers; and documentary studies into the history and politics of the services. In addition, there is a need for more comparative examination of Western international broadcasters, such as BBC, Deutsche Welle, VOA, and RFE/ RL. Yet another area ripe for examination is the role of Russian international broadcasts into Central Asia and other parts of the former Soviet Union and their role as instruments of Russia’s foreign policy, public diplomacy, and propaganda. The battle for survival of the Uzbek Service continues, despite the fact that evaluations by VOA’s Office of Research for three successive years praised the quality of its radio and television shows. While the Service has been promised that it will survive, it faces crucial questions: How can excellent programs be most effectively delivered? How can VOA boost its presence and expand outreach and penetration? What options exist for better marketing and promotion? Should it mainly rely on the Internet or concentrate on improving reception through shortwave radio? Does its limited TV programming, available only on satellite and stations in neighboring countries, have a future? Technological changes beyond VOA’s control will also play a role in determining the Service’s future as the Internet becomes more accessible. In China, for example, the audience for VOA and other Western shortwave broadcasts has shrunk as the Internet’s role as a primary source of external information has grown, despite the Chinese government’s ability to block some foreign Web sites.52 Meanwhile, Uzbekista- nis lag far behind the Chinese in access to the Web. Supporters say additional funding and resources would open doors. Some call for more political attention—perhaps engagement with President Karimov’s regime—and pragmatic compromise at a time of Russian expansionism and concerns about Islamic radicalism in Central Asia. Critics counter that the era of U.S.-funded international broadcasting as an avenue of public diplomacy is over; instead, they argue, domestic media in target countries need professional and financial support to enable them to fill the news and information gap. “‘Propaganda’ is a controversial term” and “retains conspiratorial and anti-democratic con- notations” in the American political context.53 Communist party leadership recognized Soviet-era journalists as critical agents of the social and economic changes essential to central planning. As a Soviet republic before 1991, Uzbekistan was directly part of that central planning process, with a press system virtually inseparable from the larger Soviet media apparatus.54 Thus Uzbekistanis consumed Uzbek mass media during Soviet times and were serviced by a highly controlled press system after independence. Except during a brief period of eased constraints in the early 1990s, they have largely been denied alternative news and information outlets that may encourage and sustain a democratic society.

52 See: L.L. Zhang, op. cit. 53 See: M.J. Socolow, “‘News is a Weapon’: Domestic Radio Propaganda and Broadcast Journalism in America, 1939- 1944,” American Journalism, Vol. 24, No. 3, 2007, p. 109. 54 See: E. Freedman, R. Shafer, G. Rice, op. cit. 124 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

There no longer exists what Camaj describes as the “bipolar world that existed until the beginning of the 1990s,” in which international radio broadcasters—from the U.S. and Western Europe, on the one hand, to the Soviet Union, on the other—competed as propaganda organs spreading rival ideologies.55 Today’s different fundamental public policy and ideological questions raise the issue of whether publicly labeling VOA broadcasts as “propaganda” resurrects the specter of the Soviet enemy in a post-Soviet era. Further, what are the political implications of doing so at home and abroad? Today we tend to regard the label “propaganda” primarily in the context of the rivalry between communist nations and the West. Yet it does not have that limitation in the historical context of VOA, as reflected by its intensified Arabic-language radio broadcasting to the Middle East in the 1950s, which was unambiguously propagandistic.56 Yet another question is how Congress and the White House will determine future U.S. priority targets for internal broadcasting under the BBG umbrella. The addition of Arabic- and Farsi-language stations since 2001, for example, reflects the continuing fluidity of priorities, just as the dissolution of the Soviet Union and the end of the Cold War changed priorities in the 1990s. Whether characterized as public diplomacy or propaganda, it is clear now, as it was from VOA’s birth, that the broadcaster’s principal purpose is to influence world opinion in favor of fundamental American values, principles, governance, and culture. Certainly such goals are far more subtle and less ambitious than the Russians had been as imperialists and colonialists in Uzbekistan since the 1860s. Nevertheless, VOA might be viewed as a manifestation of U.S. efforts to replace the Russians in controlling the hearts and minds of the people. At the same time, policymakers must balance political realities of an increasingly globalized world, of extra-governmental threats, of new information dissemination technologies, and of conflicting traditions, faiths, and aspirations. It remains to be seen whether VOA’s Uzbek Service will still be an important alternative source of reliable news and information for Uzbekistanis—or if a modernized, independent, and socially responsible domestic mass media system will emerge to make VOA’s American-generated Uzbek broadcasts both obsolete and unnecessary.

55 See: L. Camaj, op. cit. 56 See: J. Vaughan, “Propaganda by Proxy? Britain, American, and Arab Radio Broadcasting, 1953-1957,” Histori- cal Journal of Film, Radio, and Television, Vol. 22, No. 2, 2002, pp. 157-172.

125 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

REGIONAL STUDIES

POST-SOVIET SOCIAL PARTNERSHIP: THE POLITICAL AND CIVILIARCHIC DIMENSIONS OF SOCIAL RESPONSIBILITY

Ashot ALEXANYAN Ph.D. (Political Science), Assistant Professor at the Department of Political Science, Erevan State University; Vice-President of the Integration Promotion Center (NGO); and Member of the International Political Science Association (IPSA) (Erevan, Armenia)

Corporatism is not a categorical imperative since the modern democracies have many other methods of settling the conflicts of interests and reaching political compromises. None of them, however, is a priori more efficient than the others. Philippe C. Schmitter

Introduction

he emergence and functioning of social In the sociocratic context, the post-Soviet partnership and a comparative analysis of communities have reached the stage of internal T the political and civiliarchic mechanisms of and external systemic differentiation, which adds a constructive dialog can be described as indis- particular value to the democratization process- pensable for post-Soviet social life. es, the state’s wider social functions, the devel-

126 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 opment of corresponding institutions, and the The downfall of the Soviet totalitarian sys- protection of civil rights and freedoms. tem produced new traits in the civil institutions’ Having passed the first democratization social responsibility. The functional complexity of stage, post-Soviet sociocracy and the system of the mechanisms of the contemporary political social relations are doing practically nothing to processes has pushed social partnership problems resolve the problems at hand: they are not moti- to the fore, as well as a constructive dialog and vated enough to take the interests of social groups civiliarchic responsibility as forms of cooperation into account; social identities are vague, while among the political, economic, and social insti- value criteria are undeveloped. tutions. The need for new principles and methods The civiliarchic dimension of social partner- of social partnership became obvious since the ship in contemporary social sciences calls for a “lowest level” of the multistage institutionaliza- comparative analysis of the sociocultural, eco- tion of its entities in the context of the correspond- nomic, political, legal, and other aspects. ing policy increasingly affects management effi- The following factors largely affect internal ciency, human security, and the quality of life, as and external integration across the post-Soviet ex- well as relations between employers and employ- panse: ees, and associations of businessmen and trade unions. (1) social instability; This gives rise to elements of a new civil- (2) development of the “middle class”; iarchic culture of cooperation among the civil (3) “formal” trade unions; society institutions, entities of social partnership, and bodies of state governance and local self-ad- (4) the political parties’ weak social basis; ministration. It means that studying the mecha- (5) low level of social partnership and so- nisms of social partnership is an important theo- cial responsibility. retical and practical task.

The Social Imperative Policy

The steadily rising level of social disintegration and conflictogenity confirms that “it has become absolutely necessary for the business community to rely on the common principles of its social responsibility to the whole of society and that the social policy of any enterprise should be recognized a sine qua non of its ‘acceptance’ by all population groups.”1 No social partnership is possible if political entities ignore the institutional rules of social responsibility and control and if there is no sustainable market economy and socially determined markets of knowledge and labor. The novel features of the entities of social policy and adequate principles for protecting social rights and freedoms are coming to the fore, while post-Soviet social partnership is taking shape. The same is true of the mechanisms of personnel management and the mechanisms of settling labor contradictions and conflicts at the macro-, micro-, and meso-levels. Efficient labor partnership is an inalienable element of the labor market and social policy; it is developing along with the social and economic situation, higher wages and higher employment (and, correspondingly, drop in the number of unemployed and poverty level), and improvement of the social laws.

1 N.N. Fedorova, Politicheskie aspekty formirovaniia i realizatsii otvetstvennosti sovremennogo rossiiskogo biznes- sa, Abstract of a Candidate Thesis, Moscow, 2010, p. 3. 127 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

Table 1 Some of the Economic Indices of the CIS Countries2

GNI per capita, 2005 (US$)

Share of the macrosectors Countries in GDP, %, 2004 2004 2005 in the export of Share of products in the export, %, 2004 sector-GDP ratio, %, 2005 (PPP) External debt-GDP ratio, %, the manufacturing industry foreign Share of high-tech products exchange Internal credits of the banking the manufacturing industry, %, In terms of In terms of purchasing power parity

I II III

EurAsEC Countries

Russia 4,460 10,640 6 38 56 21 9 46 24,2

Belarus 2,760 7,890 10 41 49 60 3 20 13,9

Kazakhstan 2,930 7,730 7 40 54 16 2 101 26.7

Kyrgyzstan 440 1,870 34 21 45 43 2 82 7,1

Tajikistan 330 1,260 22 36 42 — — 77 16.5

Uzbekistan 510 2,020 28 29 43 — — 46 —

Other CIS Countries

Ukraine 1,520 6,720 11 34 55 67 5 42 25.0

Azerbaijan 1,240 4,890 12 55 32 11 2 23 9.7

Armenia 1,470 5,060 21 44 35 62 1 50 7.2

Georgia 1,350 3,270 17 27 56 37 38 37 9.8

Moldova 880 2,150 21 24 55 36 4 75 21.3

Turkmenistan 1,340 6,910 21 45 34 — — 0 — (2004) (2004)

Social partnership mechanisms serve as the prism through which the increase in social capital, the degree of social integration, and the development of civil institutions and corporatism can be viewed.

2 See: V. Pankov, “Integratsia i disintegratsia na postsovetskom prostranstve,” Mir peremen, Mezhdunarodny nauch- no-obshchestvenny zhurnal, No. 3, 2007, p. 135. 128 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

The recent studies of social partnership have revealed that it can take different forms and be realized as: (1) a process; (2) an institution; (3) a system; (4) a level and form of communication; (5) a task aimed at identifying the entities’ responsibility and power; (6) a means and method of realization; (7) a result and prospect of sustainable development. An analysis of relations in the management sphere reveals that cooperation among the entities of social policy, elaboration and planning of mutually acceptable decisions, the independent and joint activities of entities which belong to different levels and branches, as well as efficient (guaranteed) execution of decisions (agreements) are the central problems of social partnership. In this context, social partnership is seen as a method of administration and an effective mechanism of civil social involvement “as a special method of administrative decision-making.”3 It should be said that even contradictory systems of social partnership increase the efficiency of the mechanism of civiliarchic cooperation by bringing to light the structural-functional faults in the elaboration of certain problems. Methodologically, the theoretical provisions of various trends of social partnership make it possible to elaborate new analytical approaches to possible interactions. Through social partnership, political entities are actively involved in the civiliarchic management of socioeconomic development of society and capital and in the processes of decision-making and control. Here we are dealing with economic, political, and social civil involvement.4 When looking at the mechanism which regulates the interaction between society and the government, Andrey Merzlyakov points out: “Civil social involvement can be described as a mechanism of multi-entity interaction in the course of elaboration and realization of socially important managerial decisions.”5 Ensuring an adequate standard of living and social wellbeing in the post-Soviet communities largely depends on efficient mechanisms and active entities of social partnership as a special type of social-labor relations with a correspondingly special structure of regulation. It is the most important element of a social state, civil society, and corporatism. Social partnership is also responsible for society’s social, economic, and political stability and the development of civiliarchic institutions. Improved social partnership presupposes more developed institutions of social dialog and mechanisms, norms, and procedures of their interaction. This will decrease social risks and take the edge off social contradictions; and also balance out the interests of various social groups. Business becomes more responsible and politics more efficient, which will balance out the application of sociocultural and legal norms. M. Chernysh has the following to say about social partnership in the economic context of Rus- sia: “While entrepreneurs point to improved relations with their employees and to what is being done to offer them better living standards, the trade unions insist that there are no tangible improvements

3 A.A. Merzlyakov, Grazhdanskoe sotsial’noe uchastie kak universalnaia tekhnologia sotsial’nogo upravlenia, Abstract of a Candidate Thesis, Moscow, 2007, p. 16. 4 See: Ibid., pp. 12-13. 5 Ibid., p. 13. 129 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

Table 2 Typology of the Technologies of Civil Social Involvement6

Typological Bases Types of Technology

The degree of involvement —at the stage of project endorsement; at various managerial stages —at the stage of project development and endorsement; —at the stage of formulating social policy and the project’s main aims

The dominating entity —informative; (the role of the public) —consultative; —deliberative; —determinative

Specifics of social policy and Social policy: activities of the government —traditional; bodies —pragmatic; —emancipated. The way the government bodies act: —limited; —cautious; —enthusiastic; —structured

Type of technological strategy —protest (conflict); (model) —coalition; —cooperation

Procedure —diagnostic technologies; —information technologies; —consultative technologies; —decision-making technologies; —combined, multi-procedural technologies

Method —number of potentially involved people; —the method’s diagnostic, identifying, and coordinating potential related to the contribution of all participants; —the ability to create cooperation norms

6 A.A. Merzlyakov, op. cit., p. 17. 130 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 and that the contradictions which speak not so much of partnership as of the obviously divergent interests among economic entities are steadily mounting.”7 The changing post-Soviet social and economic sphere has imparted new meaning to trade unions, the mechanisms of social partnership, and collective agreements. The present state of labor relations and the labor market has changed the mechanisms, levels, forms, and content of social partnership. The mechanisms of social partnership in the sphere of labor relations bring to light numerous shortcomings and contradictions calling for corresponding economic and political decisions. In the post-Soviet states, the model of civiliarchic involvement is politically rather than socially biased in the changed living conditions; “the fact that citizens are open about their new needs and interests related to the radically changed living conditions (environmental protection, the quality of life, etc.) and their desire to have a say in decision-making has been conducive to the emergence of new forms of participation, new collective actors, and new spheres in which civil initiatives are realized.”8 The socioeconomic, political, spiritual, and cultural changes are individualized, which leads to individual-collective actions through civil socialization. It is believed that this is caused by the “individualized” forms of civil-political involvement and collective action, as well as the general process of social individualization9 and the balanced application of the sociocultural and legal norms. The changes taking place in society are transforming the means and forms of civil involvement, collective action, legitimization and motivation of public actions, civil and national-cultural identity, political opportunities, and the mechanisms used to harmonize interests, axiological norms, and mo- bilization structures. This context imparts special importance to the social movements as a non-institutionalized type of collective action: “(1) informal networks based on (2) values shared by everyone and solidarity, which mobilize its members to deal with (3) conflicts through (4) regular involvement in various protest forms.”10

Measuring Interest Intermediation Systems

Philippe C. Schmitter refers to the following basic parameters of the systems of interest intermediation (taking due account of the spread of neo-corporatism in the neo-democratic context): the degree of involvement of all sorts of interest associations and groups; the extent of associational monopoly; and the pressure of higher-order coordination mechanisms.11 When analyzed and compared, the corporatist trends and vital capacity of the corporate structures demonstrate that countries where corporatism is highly developed are more governable, more balanced, and more efficient and stable, but not necessarily more democratic.12

7 M.F. Chernysh, “Protivorechia stanovlenia sotsial’nogo partnerstva,” Sotsiologicheskie issledovania, No. 6, 2004, p. 16. 8 S.V. Patrushev, S.G. Ayvazova, G.L. Kertman, et al., “Doverie, grazhdanskoe deystvie, politika: opyt ‘starykh’ i ‘novykh’ demokratiy,” in: Rossia reformiruiushchaiasia. Ezhegodnik, ed. by M.K. Gorshkov, Moscow, 2008, Issue 7, p. 521. 9 See: Ibidem. 10 Ibid., pp. 522-523. 11 See: Ph.C. Schmitter, “Neo-corporatism and the Consolidation of Neo-democracy,” Paper presented at the 8th International Conference on Socio-Economics, Geneva, 12-14 July, 1993. 12 See: Ibidem. 131 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

In the post-Soviet political system, institutionalization of the harmonization and shaping of corporate civil culture can be described as a civiliarchic indicator of democratization. Shota Kakabadze, for example, writes: “A democratic political order relies on representation of the interests of various groups which are aggregated and articulated for the sake of balancing forces. Harmonization of conflicting (or potentially conflicting) interests through talks and agreements speaks of the high development level of the democratic political system.”13 This means that today “consolidation of democracy can be described as a process of transformation of random agreements; the norms suggested by common sense and ad hoc rivalry/cooperation decisions of a regular nature implemented according to well-established and well-known rules which are voluntarily accepted by all kinds of organizations and individuals (that is, politicians and the or- dinary people) involved in democratic governance.”14 The institutions, mechanisms, and procedures needed to harmonize interests are coming to the fore at the current stage of socioeconomic, political, spiritual, and cultural transformations (changes, reforms): they are expected to guarantee public stability (social, economic, political, spiritual, and cultural) and development. Some believe that the institutions of interest intermediation should help maintain political stability, balance out the aspirations of the main social groups, and promote reforms, that is, promote consistent changes in the current social system.15 Table 3 Structure of Social Partnership as Social Action16

Direction of Structural Elements of Social Partnership as Social Action

Social Action Subject Object Process Context

Externally-oriented Selection of Identification Representa- Systemic action social of social tion integration partners partners

Internally-oriented Self- Self- Self- Adaptation action organization reference identification

Legal Dimensions of Social Partnership

Despite the new codes and regulatory acts (many of them purely formal) adopted in the post- Soviet states and the ongoing specification of the legal status of social partnership, labor legislation and its improvement are still on the agenda.

13 Sh.Sh. Kakabadze, Istitutsionalizatsia soglasovaniia interesov v sovremennoy Rossii, Abstract of a Candidate Thesis, Moscow, 2009, p. 3. 14 Ph. Schmitter, op. cit. 15 See: Sh.Sh. Kakabadze, op. cit., p. 4. 16 See: S.A. Ivanov, “Sotsialnoe partnerstvo kak fenomen tsivilizatsii,” Zhurnal sotsiologii i sotsial’noy antropologii, Vol. VIII, No. 3, 2005, p. 90. 132 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

In Western Europe, the practice of legal and institutional regulation of social partnership goes back into the past. According to the international criteria, social partnership should take into account the interests of both sides (employees and employers) and the needs of economic development. The social partnership regime has demonstrated that “the criteria at the minimum level of working people’s basic requirements depend on the country’s social and economic situation.”17 Social partnership needs legal acts and a clear definition of the statuses and powers of the entities of collective labor relations. European experience and the corresponding legal basis, as well as strict adherence to the legal norms found in documents of all sorts of international organizations seem to be best suited to the post- Soviet reality. Here I have in mind the ILO Social Policy (Basic Aims and Standards) Convention (1962); the ILO Minimum Wage Fixing Convention (with special reference to the developing countries) (1970); the ILO Protection of Workers’ Claims (Employer’s Insolvency) Convention (1992); the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (1966); the Community Charter of the Fundamental Social Rights of Workers (1989), Council of Europe—European Social Charter (1996), etc. When and if observed, the norms and principles registered in these documents will ensure adequate living standards, help improve the mechanisms of collective treaties and labor relations, and make the state, business, and trade unions more aware of their social responsibilities. The Constitutions of all the CIS countries (Turkmenistan being the only exception until 2008) guarantee the right to work, to create trade unions, and to take part in state governance. In practice, however, no constitutional norms, laws, or regulatory acts can fully guarantee that social-labor relations become more human. In Russia, for example, the Decree of the RF President on Social Partnership and Settling Labor Disputes (Conflicts) and the RF Law on Collective Bargaining, Contracts and Agreements have been in force since the early 1990s. The legal base of social partnership was further developed in the Fed- eral Laws: On the Russian Tripartite Commission for Regulating Social-Labor Relations (1999), On the Procedure for Settling Collective Labor Disputes (1995), and On Trade Unions, Their Rights and Guarantees of Their Activity (1996), and also in the Labor Code (2001), and in the laws of the RF constituencies and other regulatory acts. The same can be said about Belarus where social partnership is envisaged as a constitutional norm in Art 14 of the Constitution. Social partnership is also based on the Decree of the President of the Republic of Belarus on the Development of Social Partnership in the Republic of Belarus (1995), the Labor Code (1999), the Law on Trade Unions (1992), etc. Kazakhstan, likewise, passed laws On Trade Unions (1993), On Social Partnership (2000), and On State Social Order (2005); there is also the Labor Code (2007) and other documents. As distinct from Russia, Belarus, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and Tajikistan, other countries (Ukraine, Azerbaijan, Armenia, Georgia, Moldova, Turkmenistan, and Uzbekistan) have no decrees or laws dealing with social partnership. This subject is dealt with in their labor codes and legislation which contain articles on trade unions, collective agreements, and contracts, the way labor disputes should be settled, employment, minimum wages, labor remuneration, associations of employers, etc. related to the social partnership sphere. In the developed countries, social partnership is a local legal mechanism and an “inner code of cooperation” which guides employees and their employers. In the post-Soviet states, it is still in the process of development.

17 M.V. Lushnikova, D.A. Smirnov, “Osnovnye poniatia instituta oplaty truda: minimalny razmer oplaty truda i stim- uliruiushchie vyplaty,” Vestnik YarGU im. P.G. Demidova, Humanitarian Sciences Series, No. 1 (11), 2010, p. 32. 133 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

The European model of social partnership presupposes direct involvement of labor collectives in administration and legal settlement of labor relations and conflicts; the ongoing changes and con- vergence, however, “presuppose that the already existing systems will be adjusted to the new conditions.”18 As it develops, social partnership in the labor sphere changes the conditions of labor relations and methods of collective talks, as well as representation of the sides. Democratic regulation of trade and wages issues, as well as interest intermediation between employees (expansion of the sphere of protection of their social rights and freedoms) and employers exist where social-labor legal relations are highly developed. Alexander Pogorelskiy, who studies the market transformations in Russian society, has analyzed two main socioeconomic models: the social market and post-totalitarian market.19 Evgenia Nekhoda, in turn, has pointed out that “social partnership is the most important mechanism for developing a social state and social policy.”20 It should be said that in West European countries, trade unions achieved their aims by defending social rights and freedoms: for the first time, the collective agreements registered social guarantees and statuses which, later, were transferred to legislation. Later, these norms of social-labor relations became an inalienable part of not only domestic, but also international standards.

Post-Soviet Trade Unions

After the Soviet Union’s disintegration, when the Soviet political system underwent transformations and liberal reforms began, social partnership mechanisms were gradually set up in the economy; the transfer from centralized to decentralized (market) regulation of social-labor relations encouraged the working people to organize and develop their representation. The CIS countries were drawn into worldwide globalization, their labor markets (in which the state played a much smaller role than before) being challenged by legal and illegal labor migration. Most of their trade unions “failed to adequately adjust themselves to the new conditions of the transition economy and its key aspects—privatization of industrial enterprises, liberalization of prices, unemployment, and wage arrears.”21 An analysis of labor conflicts suggests that as a mechanism for settling labor disputes and disagreements post-Soviet trade unions have been unable to cope with their social functions. This is confirmed by “a poll conducted by the All-Russia Public Opinion Center in September 2008. Only 2 percent of the polled turned to trade unions when their labor rights were violated; 75 percent of the polled are convinced that Russian trade unions can do little to improve the situation at any given enterprise.”22

18 R.S. Grinberg, T.V. Chubarova, Sotsialnoe partnerstvo: Mirovoy opyt i rossiyskaia spetsifika, Paper delivered at a round table of the Analytical Council of the Unity for Russia Foundation, 31 May, 2005, p. 9. 19 “With few exceptions, people in post-totalitarian societies receive small wages; they steal (and continue stealing even when they receive higher wages). These are societies in which people try, as best as they can, to avoid taxes; they do not trust their states; and they try to form friendly and corrupt ties with bureaucrats. In such systems, being close to power rather than a high level of business efficiency is the greatest competitive advantage” (A. Pogorelskiy, “Sotsialny liberalizm: perspektivy v Rossii,” Logos, No. 6 (45), 2004, p. 51). 20 E.V. Nekhoda, “Gruppy interesov v sisteme sotsial’nogo partnerstva,” Ekonomika, No. 1 (2), 2008, p. 17. 21 O. Pavlova, A. Rogozinskiy, “Rynki truda v stranakh SNG,” EKOVEST, Issue 5, No. 3, 2006, p. 518. 22 I.M. Kozina, “Rabochee dvizhenie v Rossii: Anatomia zabastovki,” Zhurnal issledovaniy sotsial’noy politiki, Vol. 7, No. 4, 2009. 134 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

Trade unions should be actively involved in the process of shaping social partnership at all levels: the state (national); branch (interbranch); regional (administrative-territorial), and transnational (corporate). The adequate and efficient partnership, to say nothing of administration (self-administration) at all levels, which the state is expected to ensure, requires the concerted efforts of trade unions and associations of employers. In the context of societal transformation and development, it is for corporate management to deal with these problems while taking into account the specifics of the models of equal subject-subject cooperation. In the system of social ties and cooperation, institutionalized corporate management adds to social stability and integration. The future of corporate culture, social solidarity, norms of social orientation, and corporate behavior rules depends on the management quality at the sociodynamic macro-, micro- and meso-levels. Transformation of the trade unions was largely instrumental in the transfer from formal social partnership to the real regulatory mechanism of social-labor relations and a new level of culture in collective contracts very much in line with the reality of the market economy. This means that the continued efficiency of post-Soviet trade unions guarantees social development and the signing of collective contracts (agreements). Table 4 Harmonization of Socioeconomic Interests of the State, Business, and Hired Workers23

Responsibility of Responsibility of The Result of the Interested Entity of Entity of the Entity of Synthesis of Natural Social Partnership Social Social and Artificial Realized through Partnership Partnership Responsibility Various Mechanisms (natural) (incentive) (artificial)

The state Social and Stronger social Higher wages, GDP, economic and economic taxes and dues, responsibility budget replenishment, and incentives social stability (in higher wages for the workers and incomes of enterprises)

Hired workers Social (higher Economic Social and economic wages and other responsibility responsibility and social indices) (higher incomes of incentives enterprises)

Employers Economic Social responsibility Economic and social (higher profits (higher wages) responsibility and and incomes of incentives enterprises)

23 See: N. Volgin, A. Kobyanov, “Sotsial’nye factory ekonomicheskogo rosta: garmonizatsia interesov rebotnikov i rabotodateley dostizhima,” Chelovek i trud, No. 2, 2005, p. 33. 135 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

Today, the post-Soviet trade unions are losing their grip because business and employer associations are growing stronger; in the European Union, on the other hand, they are growing weaker because of smaller membership. Some authors explain the decrease in membership by lower employment in well-organized industrial branches and higher employment in less organized branches, as well as an increase in non-traditional employment forms.24 The European Trade Union Confederation (ETUC) plays an important role when it comes to integrating the trade unions into the European expanse, increasing their role, and allotting them much more space. It is very important to develop a trade union movement throughout the entire post-Soviet expanse, which means that the Soviet successor-states can learn a lot by cooperating with the ETUC. Today, the civiliarchic states are tending toward the social partnership policy in an effort to set up sustainable mechanisms of mutual responsibility and social equilibrium. This means that state-civil society relations are determined by the institutionalized level of social partnership. The worldwide experience of social policy development has demonstrated that civiliarchic prerequisites and conditions conducive to social partnership help to defuse social tension, reduce poverty, and bridle civil instability and political confrontation. In favorable conditions, social partnership might promote humanization of social and economic conditions. Isaac and Bella Model have identified the following as conditions that are indispensable for successful social partnership: democracy and civil society; objectively needed social partnership; institutionalization of group interests; well-oiled mechanisms and procedures of a social dialog; and the state’s organizational, legal, and political principles.25 So far, the social control exercised by trade unions (their involvement is limited to formal “representation”) and civil institutions can be described as spontaneous; more likely than not it is state- initiated for the following reasons: (a) the “liberal” Law on Trade Unions; (b) the low level of social awareness and culture; (c) the lack of traditions in the trade union movement and mechanisms of partnership (or confrontation) inherited from the past. In the post-Soviet countries, trade unions do their best to settle social-labor conflicts and neutralize their negative repercussions. This means that social partnership is a system of functional integration and a very specific algo- rithm of cooperation and mutually beneficial interaction. Realized in the micro- and macro-context, it helps to construct social reality and promotes civiliarchic values and the legitimization of social and political transformations.

Conclusion

The above suggests the following conclusions: 1. The state of social partnership in post-Soviet public life speaks of an ongoing systemic crisis and destruction of society, which calls for adequate social, political, economic, spiritual, and

24 See: R.S. Grinberg, T.V. Chubarova, op. cit., p. 6. 25 See: I.M. Model, B.S. Model, “Sotsial’noe partnerstvo v Rossii,” Sotsis, No. 9, 2000, pp. 43-45. 136 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

cultural measures. It should be said that despite the deep-cutting social crisis, some of the institutionalized (“situational”) transformations of social partnership encourage changes in the social, political, spiritual, cultural, and legal spheres. 2. The emergence, functioning, and development of the social partnership system in the post- Soviet states are directly connected with democratization. Social partnership is a multi-level and multivectoral civiliarchic phenomenon, the emergence and development of which depends on the general process of civil socialization. The world has learned from experience that “political democracy, a market economy, and social partnership are inseparable; it is impossible to establish one of them in full while ignoring the other two.”26 3. An effective impact of the social partnership entities presupposes planning, organization, motivation, and control with a cyclic administrative (self-administrative) process. Each cycle of social partnership can be described as an interaction stage; if realized (or not realized), it affects administrative (self-administrative) efficiency at various levels. It should be said that social partnership of the “first” level adds to the efficiency of the “second” level; if social partnership of the “second level” remains unrealized at the “first” level efficiency decreases. 4. Social, economic, spiritual, and cultural independence in citizens largely fortifies the social- civiliarchic status of the individual and is the main prerequisite of post-Soviet social partnership. 5. The post-Soviet trade unions are practically excluded from social-economic decision-making (elaboration, adoption, realization, and control). This prevents social interaction and a dialog and means that “the trade unions should become more involved in controlling how the social-labor laws are observed; they should insist that the minimum wage be raised to the sub- sistence level and that the calculation methods be revised; the single social tax should be abolished, while the system of insurance funds should be restored; a single base for collective agreements should be created.”27 6. So far, the social-labor problems and agreements between the sides are mostly situational which means that this is the initial stage of harmonization (clash) of their interests. Social partnership is a special method of decision-making (elaboration, decision-making, realization, and control). 7. The low level of social protection is explained by the fact that the basic norms and obligations registered in collective contracts and agreements are consistently ignored; this deprives the mechanisms aimed at protecting working people’s rights and freedoms of their efficiency, while businessmen and business structures remain indifferent to socially important initiatives. 8. Internal social and international integration of trade unions is going on; in the future they will be able to take an active part in the payment of labor and employment. A new regulatory mechanism for the labor market and a transnational economic regime are formulating new criteria of social partnership, protection, capital, and labor resources.

26 “Novye perspektivy tripartizma v Evrope: Dokument kollokviuma MOT,” March 1992, Vestnik profsoiuzov, No. 7, 1992, p. 34. 27 M.M. Sunarchina, “Nekotorye aspekty reformirovania rossiiskikh profsoiuzov kak sotsial’nogo instituta,” Nefte- gazovoe delo, 2004, p. 5. 137 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

9. Elaborating and legitimizing social problems during interaction among political entities is having a positive effect on civiliarchic competence, the socio-legal status of trade unions, and corporate-social responsibility. The ILO convention should be further ratified to confirm the laws on trade unions and upgrade the legal status of their charters. 10. The world financial and economic crisis is negatively affecting all the positive achievements and the combination of short- and long-term factors of post-Soviet social partnership; it is also leaving the process of the social and economic transformation uncompleted.

138 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

Contents of the Central Asia and the Caucasus Issues Volume 11, 2010

Issue 1 Page From the Publishers 7

Jannatkhan Eyvazov. CHINA IN CENTRAL EURASIA: SECURITY INTERESTS AND GEOPOLITICAL ACTIVITY 8 Beka Chedia. GEORGIA ON THE POLITICAL MAP OF EUROPE: NEW GEOPOLITICAL REALITIES 19 Nur Omarov, Dmitri Orlov. THE MAIN RESULTS OF KYRGYZSTAN’S DOMESTIC POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT IN 2009 28 Timur Shaymergenov, Marat Biekenov. KAZAKHSTAN AND NATO: EVALUATION OF COOPERATION PROSPECTS 35 Maxim Kirchanov. TURKMEN NATIONALISM TODAY: POLITICAL AND INTELLECTUAL MYTHOLOGEMES 52 Sukhrobjon Ismoilov, Sanzhar Saidov. ON THE RESULTS OF THE PARLIAMENTARY ELECTIONS IN UZBEKISTAN 63 Murat Laumulin, Augan Malik. CENTRAL ASIA AS VIEWED BY CONTEMPORARY POLITICAL ANALYSTS 80 Amalia Saribekian. THE FINANCIAL AND ECONOMIC CRISIS: DEVELOPMENT AND WAYS TO OVERCOME IT IN TRANSITION ECONOMIES 97

139 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

Page

Vladimir Paramonov, Alexei Strokov, Oleg Stolpovskiy. STAGES OF CHINA’S ECONOMIC POLICY IN CENTRAL ASIA 107 Bulat Khusainov, Serik Akhanov. KAZAKHSTAN: NATIONAL COMPONENT OF GLOBAL ECONOMIC CRISIS 117 Merab Julakidze. A MACRO MODEL OF GEORGIA’S SOCIOECONOMIC DEVELOPMENT AND ITS USE IN FORMING ECONOMIC POLICY 137 Eric Freedman. AUTHORITARIAN REGIMES, MUSLIMS’ RELIGIOUS RIGHTS IN CENTRAL ASIA, AND LACK OF FOREIGN PRESS COVERAGE OF RIGHTS VIOLATIONS 146 Irina Tsepkova. RELIGIOUS TOLERANCE AND POLITICAL STABILITY (A CASE STUDY OF KAZAKHSTAN AND RUSSIA) 158 Salome Dundua. RELIGIOUS FACTORS IN GEORGIAN POLITICS (THE 2008 GENERAL ELECTIONS) 173

Issue 2

Baktykan Torogeldieva. ON THE POLITICAL BEHAVIOR OF THE KYRGYZ PEOPLE TODAY 7

Murat Laumulin. APRIL 2010 IN KYRGYZSTAN: AS SEEN FROM KAZAKHSTAN 24

Stanislav Cherniavskiy. THE KYRGYZ REVOLUTION OF 2010: THE CAUSES AND POSSIBLE POST-REVOLUTIONARY DEVELOPMENTS 39

Arbakhan Magomedov, Ruslan Nikerov. REBEL CAUCASIAN REGIONS ON THE BRINK OF ENERGY WARS 47

Rustam Makhmudov. THE AFGHAN CRISIS AND THE 2011 PROBLEM: WHAT NEXT? 59

Nuria Kutnaeva. FOREIGN MILITARY BASES IN POST-SOVIET CENTRAL ASIA 70 140 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

Page Levon Hovsepyan. MILITARY-POLITICAL ASPECTS OF COOPERATION BETWEEN TURKEY AND THE CENTRAL ASIAN COUNTRIES: OVERALL DYNAMICS OF DEVELOPMENT 81 Kenan Allahverdiev. AZERBAIJAN: ETHNOPOLITICAL SECURITY IN THE FIRST HALF OF THE 21ST CENTURY 88 Joni Melikian. MILITARY REFORMS AND STABILITY IN THE SOUTHERN CAUCASUS 96 Yuri Morozov. THE POSSIBLE CONSEQUENCES OF PUBLICIZING MYTHS ABOUT THE CHINESE THREAT 103 Denga Khalidov. THE NORTHERN CAUCASUS: AN ALTERNATIVE APPROACH. SYSTEMS ANALYSIS AND THE PARADOXES OF STATISTICS 114 Gulbaat Rtskhiladze, Georgi Vekua. THE POST-SOVIET EXPANSE: IDEOLOGICAL ASPECT OF GEOPOLITICAL EXPANSION 139 Maria Plaksenko. UKRAINE’S PLACE AND ROLE IN THE BLACK SEA-CASPIAN REGION ORGANIZATIONS 146 Vahagn Muradyan. KAZAKHSTAN: A PARTNER FOR DEMOCRACY? 153 Maxim Kirchanov. “EUROPE” AND “THE WEST” IN GEORGIA’S POLITICAL IMAGINATION AND NATIONALIST DISCOURSE 158 Munim Hasanov. THE WORLD FINANCIAL AND ECONOMIC CRISIS AND ITS IMPACT ON TAJIKISTAN 168 Mavzuna Karimova. THE PROBLEMS OF RESTRUCTURING INDUSTRY IN TAJIKISTAN 178

Issue 3

Arbakhan Magomedov, Ruslan Nikerov. CASPIAN ENERGY RESOURCES AND THE “PIPELINE WAR” IN EUROPE IN THE 21ST CENTURY: ENERGY GEOPOLITICS IN NORTHERN EURASIA 7

141 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

Page Vladimir Paramonov, Alexey Strokov. CHINA IN CENTRAL ASIA: ENERGY INTERESTS AND ENERGY POLICY 18 Valentina Kasymova, Batyrkul Baetov. KYRGYZ REPUBLIC: ENERGY POLICY AND PROJECTS 31 Georgi Petrov. CONFLICT OF INTERESTS BETWEEN HYRDOPOWER ENGINEERING AND IRRIGATION IN CENTRAL ASIA: CAUSES AND SOLUTIONS 52 Alexey Fominykh. PROJECTING “SOFT POWER:” AMERICAN AND RUSSIAN PUBLIC DIPLOMACY IN POST-SOVIET CENTRAL ASIA 66 Jannatkhan Eyvazov. CENTRAL EURASIA THROUGH THE PRISM OF TURKEY’S SECURITY INTERESTS 77 Raheleh Behzadi. IRAN’S FOREIGN POLICY IN THE CASPIAN SEA BASIN. OSCILLATION BETWEEN NATIONAL INTERESTS AND ISLAMIC ADVENTURES 86 Haroutiun Khachatrian. THE TURKISH-ARMENIAN NORMALIZATION BID IN 2008-2010: AN ARMENIAN VIEW 94 Akhman Saidmuradov, Ekaterina Puseva. THE GREATER CENTRAL ASIA CONCEPT IN U.S. FOREIGN POLICY IN THE CENTRAL ASIAN REGION 102 Murat Laumulin. CENTRAL ASIA AS VIEWED BY CONTEMPORARY POLITICAL ANALYSTS 109 Maxim Kirchanov. THE MAIN DEVELOPMENT VECTORS OF GEORGIAN NATIONALISM IN THE CONTEXT OF POLITICAL INSTABILITY. BETWEEN THE TRADITIONS OF THE POLITICAL NATION AND THE CHALLENGES OF RADICALIZATION 126 Nikolai Borisov. KURMANBEK BAKIEV AS ASKAR AKAEV’S POLITICAL SUCCESSOR: FAILURE TO CONSOLIDATE THE POLITICAL REGIME IN KYRGYZSTAN 138

142 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS Volume 11 Issue 4 2010

Page Andrei Galliev. CRISIS FACTORS IN KYRGYZSTAN: THE REGIONAL, CLAN, AND POLITICAL STRUGGLE 149 Zhyldyz Urmanbetova. KYRGYZSTAN: TODAY AND TOMORROW 155 Kanatbek Murzakhalilov, Mirajiddin Arynov. TABLIGHI JAMAAT IN KYRGYZSTAN: ITS LOCAL SPECIFICS AND POSSIBLE IMPACT ON THE RELIGIOUS SITUATION 162

Issue 4

Arbakhan Magomedov. OIL AND RUSSIA’S POLITICAL REGIME AT STAGES IN POST-COMMUNIST DEVELOPMENT: CONTINUITY OF RENT SEEKING WITHIN THE RAW-MATERIAL PARADIGM 7 Abdolreza Farajirad, Asaad Khezerzade. RUSSIA’S FOREIGN POLICY TOWARD THE CAUCASUS UNDER VLADIMIR PUTIN 20 Murat Laumulin. U.S. CENTRAL ASIAN POLICY UNDER PRESIDENT BARACK OBAMA 41 David Babayan. SOME OF CHINA’S GEOPOLITICAL VECTORS IN CENTRAL ASIA 54 Vladimir Paramonov, Alexey Strokov, Oleg Stolpovskiy. CHINA IN CENTRAL ASIA 66 Vladimir Karyakin. U.S. MIDDLE EASTERN POLICY: NEW APPROACHES AND OLD PROBLEMS 79 Maya Manchkhashvili. TURKEY AND SECURITY IN THE SOUTHERN CAUCASUS: THE CAUCASUS STABILITY AND COOPERATION PLATFORM 87 Eric Freedman, Richard Shafer, Slavka Antonova. TWO DECADES OF REPRESSION: THE PERSISTENCE OF AUTHORITARIAN CONTROLS ON THE MASS MEDIA IN CENTRAL ASIA 94 143 Volume 11 Issue 4 2010 CENTRAL ASIA AND THE CAUCASUS

Page Navbahor Imamova, Richard Schaefer, Richard Shafer, Eric Freedman. CONTROVERSY ON THE AIRWAVES: PUBLIC DIPLOMACY, PORTRAYING AMERICA, AND PUBLIC OUTREACH THROUGH THE VOICE OF AMERICA UZBEK SERVICE 110 Ashot Alexanyan. POST-SOVIET SOCIAL PARTNERSHIP: THE POLITICAL AND CIVILIARCHIC DIMENSIONS OF SOCIAL RESPONSIBILITY 126

144