Pannier and Hillard’s Spotlight on Central Asia: New Episode Out Now

As Managing Editor of The Times of Central Asia, I’m delighted that, in partnership with the Oxus Society for Central Asian Affairs, from October 19, we are the home of the Spotlight on Central Asia podcast. Chaired by seasoned broadcasters Bruce Pannier of RFE/RL’s long-running Majlis podcast and Michael Hillard of The Red Line, each fortnightly instalment will take you on a deep dive into the latest news, developments, security issues, and social trends across an increasingly pivotal region. This week, the team covers a new election date being set in Kazakhstan, with the country's largest party staying off the ballot, rare protests in Turkmenistan over blackouts and economic frustration, the removal of one of Ashgabat's most important religious figures, renewed clashes along the Afghanistan-Pakistan border, fuel shortages hitting much of Central Asia, and border swap deals that have seen thousands of people suddenly finding themselves in a new country. Before then turning to our main story this week, where the dramatic end to the Kamchybek Tashiev trials has delivered one of the biggest moments in Kyrgyz politics this year.

Tokayev Congratulates Trump as Kazakhstan Marks America’s 250th Independence Anniversary

Tokayev Congratulates Trump as Kazakhstan Marks America’s 250th Independence Anniversary ASTANA — President Kassym-Jomart Tokayev congratulated U.S. President Donald Trump on the 250th anniversary of the independence of the United States, calling the milestone a symbol of the American people’s enduring commitment to freedom, equality and justice. In his message, Tokayev noted Trump’s personal contribution to the continued development of Kazakh-American relations and reaffirmed Kazakhstan’s readiness to further strengthen the expanded strategic partnership between the two countries. The Kazakh leader wished Trump success in his state duties and extended wishes of well-being and prosperity to the American people. The congratulatory message came as Kazakhstan joined U.S. Independence Day commemorations marking America’s semiquincentennial. In a separate celebration of the bilateral relationship, the U.S. Embassy in Kazakhstan announced that several prominent landmarks would be illuminated in honor of America’s 250th anniversary. The buildings include Astana’s Nur Alem sphere and Kazakhstan Temir Zholy building, as well as Almaty’s Kok-Tobe tower. The U.S. embassy described the illumination as a symbol of the U.S.-Kazakhstan relationship, noting that the anniversary also coincides with 35 years of diplomatic relations between the two countries. [caption id="attachment_51530" align="alignnone" width="2560"] Nur Alem Sphere and Kazakhstan Temir Zholy building in Astana, July 4, 2026[/caption] The coordinated gestures underscored the steady growth of ties between Astana and Washington, which have expanded across diplomacy, trade, investment, energy, security and people-to-people contacts since Kazakhstan’s independence. For Kazakhstan, the anniversary offered an opportunity to recognize a historic American milestone while also highlighting the durability of its own partnership with the United States. Together, Tokayev’s message and the illumination of landmark buildings in Astana and Almaty placed Kazakhstan among the countries marking the United States’ 250th Independence Day through official greetings and public displays of friendship.

Opinion: The Specter Is Back – A Kazakh Warning to America

I was educated and began my career under Soviet communism in Kazakhstan. For many Americans, communism may sound like a policy argument. For us, it is also family memory — famine, confiscation, repression, camps and fear, all justified in the language of equality and justice. When communism returns to the American political debate, people from Kazakhstan listen carefully. “A specter is haunting Europe, the specter of communism.” That is how The Communist Manifesto by Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels began in 1848. Nearly two centuries later, the specter has not disappeared. It has changed its vocabulary, its political costumes and its geography. But the old temptation remains. It promises justice by concentrating power. In late June, U.S. President Donald Trump warned that communism was the greatest threat to the United States, greater, he said, than World War I, World War II, Pearl Harbor, or September 11. His language was characteristically blunt. Critics were right to say that democratic socialism is not the same thing as Soviet communism, and that the word “communist” should not be used carelessly in ordinary partisan debate. Still, the historical concern behind the warning should not be dismissed. Not every welfare program is communism. Not every democratic socialist is a Bolshevik. Every modern state helps its citizens in some form. The real question is when help becomes control. When does compassion become coercion? When does the state begin claiming the right to decide prices, property, production, speech and moral legitimacy in the name of “the people”? People who lived under communism know the danger. Why a Kazakh Voice Belongs in This Debate For an outside observer, it may seem strange that socialism and communism are again being debated in the United States, the stronghold of advanced capitalism, as Soviet theorists once described it. Yet the explanation is not mysterious. Congressional elections are approaching. Recent primary victories by candidates who identify with democratic socialism have brought these questions back into mainstream American politics. Of course, this does not mean the United States is on the eve of a Bolshevik revolution. America has elections, courts, private property, constitutional limits, and a free press. The Soviet Union had none of these in any meaningful sense. That distinction should be kept clear. But the first words of any political movement should be taken seriously. The early promises are usually humane. They speak of fairness, dignity, affordability, workers, tenants, food, and peace. Only later does society discover how much power must be handed to the state to make those promises real. The Democratic Socialists of America describes itself as the largest socialist organization in the United States and says working people should run “both the economy and society democratically” to meet human needs rather than profits. To many Americans, that may sound compassionate. To those of us trained in Marxist-Leninist doctrine, it also sounds familiar. I am not a political scientist or a specialist in party-building. I am simply a person who, because of my age, studied under the communists and even had time to work at the newspaper of the Communist Youth League of Kazakhstan. The newspaper was called Leninskaya Smena, literally “Lenin’s Successors.” In those years, we spent five years at the institute studying the history of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, historical materialism, dialectical materialism, and other subjects built around the principle of party-mindedness. Party-mindedness was not a casual idea. It meant that a scholar, journalist, artist or public figure was expected to defend the interests of a specific class or social group as defined by the party. It meant subordinating one’s work, views and judgments to the ideology and goals of the ruling party. Communist systems did not begin by announcing that they would create prison camps. They began by saying they alone represented the workers, the poor, the exploited and the future. Once a party claims exclusive moral ownership of “the people,” disagreement becomes selfishness, privilege, sabotage, or betrayal. In Kazakhstan, terms such as “kulak,” “bai,” “enemy of the people” and “nationalist” were not merely insults. They became instruments of confiscation, arrest, and sometimes death. I should say at the outset that I was never a member of the Communist Party, or any other party. My father wanted me to join. He used to say, “If you remain nonpartisan, you’ll never become a leader.” I did not follow his advice. Ironically, I became a manager only after the Soviet Union collapsed. The Promise and the Mechanism According to Marxist-Leninist theory, the communist socio-economic system consists of three stages. First comes the transition from capitalism to socialism. Socialism is the lower phase. Full communism is the higher phase. At least, that is what we were taught. Under socialism, the guiding principle was, “From each according to his ability, to each according to his work.” Labor was the measure for receiving material benefits. Once the economy reached a more advanced stage, the era of communism would begin, guided by another principle. “From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs.” Goods would be distributed according to genuine human need. Perhaps the most remarkable element of this theory was that the state itself was expected to disappear. Public consciousness would become so advanced that there would no longer be a need for coercive institutions. That remained theory. But this was precisely where the power of the communist idea lay. The danger was not that it sounded cruel. The danger was that it sounded moral. Who can oppose justice? Who can oppose food, housing, peace, or dignity? The problem was that someone had to decide what people needed, what they deserved, which property was legitimate, which profit was immoral, and which class had to surrender power. That “someone” was always the party and the state. At the beginning of the twentieth century, the Bolshevik promises were powerful because they spoke to real suffering. “Peace to the peoples, land to the peasants, factories to the workers” appealed to the largely poor and exhausted population of the Russian Empire. The slogans were not foolish. They were effective because they met people where they were — tired of war, poverty, hierarchy, and insecurity. Today’s American debate should be viewed through that lens. Socialist rhetoric gains strength because it speaks to real problems — high rent, medical costs, student debt, food prices, inequality, and fear of technological displacement. The Bolsheviks also spoke to real suffering. The mistake is to assume that because the grievance is real, the proposed concentration of power is safe. Old Logic in a New Language Americans should not imagine that socialism always arrives wearing the same clothes. In one century, it promised land to peasants and factories to workers. In another, it may promise public ownership of artificial intelligence, government control over rents, taxpayer-supported grocery stores, free services, and a new economic order. The vocabulary changes. The central question does not. How much private life and private property must be transferred to political control? Senator Bernie Sanders’s American AI Sovereign Wealth Fund Act would give the public a direct ownership stake in the largest American AI companies through a one-time 50% tax on the stock of those companies. The fund would also use voting shares to influence corporate decisions. This is not merely a higher tax rate. It is a claim that a commanding sector of the future economy should be partly transferred into public ownership. In New York City, Mayor Zohran Mamdani’s rent-freeze victory affects about one million rent-stabilized apartments, where roughly a quarter of New Yorkers live. His administration has also advanced a public grocery initiative, with one store planned for each borough and $70 million in capital funds allocated for five sites. The city says the model will use city-owned land and public support for overhead costs, while a private operator manages daily operations. One can defend these measures as affordability policy. But a person from Kazakhstan recognizes the underlying logic. Strategic industries are too important for private ownership. Prices are too important for markets. Food is too important for ordinary commerce. Therefore, the state must step in. Even outside the self-described socialist movement, the language of public ownership is spreading. California Governor Gavin Newsom has called for a national billionaire tax and a federal public equity fund so Americans can hold stakes in major AI companies. That is not communism. But it shows how quickly the language of public ownership can move from ideological movements into mainstream policy debate. Again, the question is not whether government should help citizens. The question is whether the state begins to treat markets, property and private enterprise not as parts of a free society, but as obstacles to be politically disciplined. What Kazakhstan Paid In Kazakhstan, communism arrived not as a seminar but as a forced redesign of life itself. Moscow’s collectivization campaign confiscated livestock, broke the nomadic economy, and forced pastoral people into an ideological agricultural model that did not fit the steppe. The result was Asharshylyk, the famine of 1931 to 1933. More than 1.5 million people died by some estimates, roughly one-third of the Kazakh population. This was not an abstract failure of economic management. For a pastoral society, livestock was not just wealth. It was survival, culture, and identity. When the state destroyed that foundation, it destroyed a way of life. My own family was not spared. My parents often spoke about the famine of the early 1930s. Both my father’s and my mother’s families included people who were officially labeled “enemies of the people.” Only my maternal grandfather survived the labor camps in Siberia and was eventually able to return home. Soviet repression also decapitated Kazakhstan’s national elite. During the Great Terror, Alash leaders, writers, educators and officials were arrested or executed. In 1937 alone, nearly 105,000 people were arrested in Kazakhstan, and about 22,000 were sentenced to be executed. The state did not merely punish opponents but removed the people who could have led Kazakhstan’s political, cultural and intellectual future. Kazakhstan also became a geography of punishment. Karlag, ALZHIR, Steplag and other camps were located on Kazakh soil. Karlag eventually covered more than 1.7 million hectares and held more than one million prisoners over nearly three decades. ALZHIR imprisoned women, many of them not for what they had done, but because they were wives or relatives of men accused of political crimes. Nearly 18,000 women passed through ALZHIR from 1938 to 1953. The damage was demographic as well as political. After famine, deportations, war, and Soviet migration policy, Kazakhs became a minority in their own republic. By the 1959 census, Kazakhs represented only about 30% of the population of Kazakhstan. A people had become a minority in their own homeland. That memory has become part of my family’s history. I have passed it on to my sons, and I hope they will one day pass it on to their own children. The Achievements and the Cost Communism was not without achievements, and those deserve acknowledgment. The Soviet system expanded education, mobilized labor, industrialized quickly, and created powerful state institutions. It could build, organize, and command on a vast scale. The Soviet Semashko healthcare model was also one of the most influential attempts to create a universal, state-funded system of medical care. Its original vision was comprehensive care, available to everyone free of charge and organized as a unified state service. Yet access, quality, funding and implementation varied sharply, especially outside favored urban and industrial areas. This balance should be kept in mind. The Soviet system could produce visible results. That is precisely why the temptation remains. Centralized power can build a factory, open a school, distribute goods and mobilize a country quickly. But the same power that builds a factory can also close a newspaper, confiscate a herd, exile a family, erase a national elite or poison a landscape. The problem is not that communism never works. The problem is what it costs when it does. Kazakhstan’s environment still carries that cost. The Virgin Lands campaign brought short-term grain production, but reliance on single-crop cultivation damaged soil fertility, and inadequate anti-erosion measures left millions of tons of soil blowing away. The Soviet diversion of the Syr Darya and Amu Darya rivers to support cotton and other crops devastated the Aral Sea, once one of the largest lakes in the world. This is what central planning often failed to understand. It confused control with competence. It believed that because the state could command, it could know. But no central plan can understand every farm, every family, every price, every local condition and every human motive. When reality contradicted ideology, ideology usually won. The people paid the price. China offers a different but useful comparison. In a recent speech marking the Communist Party’s 105th anniversary, Xi Jinping praised the party’s history and urged it to build a modern socialist China while staying true to its basic theory, line and policy. That is an important nuance. China’s Communist Party kept the Leninist principle of party supremacy while allowing markets, private enterprise and foreign investment to expand far beyond the Soviet model. Its flexibility helped produce extraordinary growth. But it also shows that communism can change its economic methods while preserving its central political premise, that the party remains the final judge of history, national interest and permissible dissent. The Real Warning The lesson from Kazakhstan’s experience is broader than any single country or period. The danger begins when an ideology claims a monopoly on justice and gives the state power to decide who speaks for the people, who owns property, who may dissent, and who must be punished in the name of progress. Any system that claims one party, one class, one theory or one state agency can embody the will of the people will eventually have to silence some of the people. It may begin with speeches about justice. It may begin with promises of lower prices, free goods, public ownership and dignity for working people. But if the mechanism is the concentration of power, the end is rarely humane. Communism is, in the end, another expression of humanity’s old dream of universal justice and shared prosperity. In that sense, it resembles a secular religion. It promises a better world, identifies the guilty, sanctifies the struggle, and asks people to believe that a new human being will emerge once the old order is destroyed. That dream is powerful because human suffering is real. Rent is too high. Food is expensive. Healthcare can be unaffordable. Technology may displace workers. Inequality can corrode trust. These are not imaginary problems. But the Kazakh warning is simple. A real grievance does not make every remedy safe. The Soviet experiment taught us that the most dangerous politics often speaks in the language of compassion. It promises dignity, but demands obedience. It promises equality, but creates privilege for the party. It promises liberation, but turns disagreement into treason. It promises abundance, but begins by deciding who must surrender property, speech and power. The word “communism” should not be used carelessly. Not every welfare program is communism. But when political movements speak seriously about public ownership of major industries, state control over prices, government-directed commerce and class-based moral authority, those of us who lived with the consequences have a duty to speak plainly. Kazakhstan has already paid for these experiments once. Americans should not treat them as new.

Kazakhstan’s New Kurultai Elections: What the 30% Quota Could Mean for Women in Parliament

Kyrgyzstan’s Water Compensation Push Tests Central Asian Unity

Central Asia’s water diplomacy is entering a contentious phase. Kyrgyzstan, where much of the region’s runoff is formed, is reviving calls for economic compensation from downstream users. Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan have rejected the idea, saying current agreements do not provide for payments for transboundary river water. The dispute comes as the region tries to maintain annual water-allocation deals while adapting agriculture to worsening scarcity and climate pressure. Water has long tied together the region’s upstream and downstream states. The 2021 and 2022 clashes on the Kyrgyz-Tajik border showed how disputes over land, border infrastructure, roads, security posts, and water access can escalate when local tensions are not contained. Yet political will alone does not guarantee agreements between countries. The Central Asian republics cooperate on water issues through two interstate bodies. One is the International Fund for Saving the Aral Sea, established in 1993 by all five Central Asian republics. Kyrgyzstan suspended its participation in IFAS in 2016, and now attends the fund’s meetings as an observer. The second body is the Interstate Commission for Water Coordination, whose meetings are held once a quarter. At its 93rd meeting in Bukhara in early April, the commission confirmed limits for water withdrawal from transboundary rivers, following decisions approved at the 92nd meeting in Dushanbe. For the Amu Darya, the 2026 water allocations set the total withdrawal limit for the water-management year from October 2025 to October 2026 at about 55.4 billion cubic meters. Of this, 15.9 billion cubic meters is allocated for the cold period, from October to April. Tajikistan has been allocated 9.8 billion cubic meters per year, while Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan each receive 22 billion. A significant part of the flow, 44 billion cubic meters, must pass through the adjusted section of the Kerki hydrological post, helping secure the lower reaches of the river. For the Syr Darya, the total water withdrawal limit for the non-growing season is 4.219 billion cubic meters. Kazakhstan will receive 460 million cubic meters through the Dustlik Canal, Kyrgyzstan 47 million, and Tajikistan 365 million, while the largest share will go to Uzbekistan, 3.347 billion cubic meters. The inherited framework is also facing pressure from outside the five-state system. Afghanistan’s Qosh-Tepa Canal, which is being advanced outside the Soviet-era allocation structure, has added uncertainty on the Amu Darya. The Central Asian republics also cooperate in bilateral and trilateral formats. In January, Kazakhstan-Uzbekistan joint working groups met in Turkestan. The sides reaffirmed water cooperation, agreed to continue repairs on the Dostyk canal, and planned automated hydrological posts on the Syr Darya. In May, Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, and Tajikistan agreed on the operating regime of the Bahri-Tojik Reservoir for the summer of 2026. From June to August, the reservoir is to operate in a coordinated mode to supply irrigation water to farmers in the Maktaaral and Zhetysai districts of southern Kazakhstan. These agreements show that regional mechanisms still work, but experts continue to warn that climate pressure, data gaps, and uneven national interests could overwhelm existing formats. “Forecasting the likelihood of ‘water conflicts’ in the near future is difficult, since much depends not only on the political will of states, but also on the availability of effective tools for managing water resources amid scientific uncertainty and discrepancies in data assessment,” according to Shamshagul Mashtayeva, a Kazakh hydrologist and water-diplomacy specialist. “The time has come for a paradigm shift in the management of these resources and in water diplomacy in order to give the second scenario a greater chance, since the well-being of future generations directly depends on the success of these efforts.” In her view, the combined impact of irregular weather patterns, glacier melt, and biodiversity loss creates uncertainty. That uncertainty could lead to two scenarios: growing economic, social, environmental, and political shocks and conflicts over water, or improved policy with large-scale reforms in the water sector. Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan have responded partly by introducing digital and water-saving technologies, and by changing crop structures. In Kazakhstan, priority in this year’s sowing campaign was given to higher-margin and strategically important crops. Oilseed crops will exceed 4 million hectares, while more than 3.3 million hectares have been allocated for fodder crops. Wheat acreage has been reduced to 12.1 million hectares, 125,000 hectares less than last year. Corn acreage was also reduced. Rice fields were reduced by 20,600 hectares, and the area of cotton under drip irrigation increased by 29,800 hectares as water-saving technologies were expanded. Kazakhstan has taken a stricter approach to reducing rice planting. In the Shardara district of the Turkestan Region, dozens of farmers who planted rice fields beyond approved volumes were left without irrigation water. Permits were processed through an electronic system, and once the limit was reached, registration of new areas was closed. Uzbekistan has also started to shift land away from water-intensive crops. President Shavkat Mirziyoyev supported a proposal in late April to reduce cotton and grain areas by 7,400 hectares in the Ferghana Region and redistribute land to more profitable crops. Orchards and export-oriented plantations are being created in the Ferghana, Yozyovon, Kuva, and Uzbekistan districts. Uzbekistan’s cotton sector has prepared for intensive planting schemes on 888,000 hectares. Of these, 500,000 hectares are planned for high-yielding, salt-resistant, and drought-resistant foreign varieties. Work is also being organized to plant cotton on 300,000 hectares based on Xinjiang’s experience. Kyrgyzstan, where about half of the region’s runoff is formed and which uses roughly a quarter of that water itself, has repeatedly raised the issue of economic compensation for irrigation water. On January 1, 2026, a new Water Code came into force in the republic, changing the approach to the use of water resources. Water is now recognized as a commodity, and fees will be charged for its use by domestic and external consumers. This marks a shift away from the old “water in exchange for electricity” system toward a market model of water use. The new code regulates domestic water use and its distribution among neighbors such as Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan. In February, Jogorku Kenesh (parliamentary) deputy Umbetaly Kydyraliyev also raised the issue, saying Kyrgyzstan bears the cost of maintaining hydraulic facilities, including repairs and maintenance of dams, but receives no direct economic compensation. He cited international practice in which countries pay compensation for the use of water resources. Kyrgyz President Sadyr Japarov raised the issue again at a regional economic summit in Astana in April. He said emergencies in Kyrgyzstan have increased significantly in recent years: mudflows and floods have become three times more frequent, while annual damage reaches about $16 million. The glacier area has also shrunk by 16%, and by the end of the century, the country could lose up to 80% of its glaciers. “We propose resuming the introduction of a mutually beneficial economic compensation mechanism in the water and energy sector under modern conditions. It is necessary to find a balance of interests and develop mutually acceptable solutions based on a comprehensive approach,” Japarov said. Professor Yarash Pulodov, a Tajik scholar in water resources and ecology, has supported the introduction of water-use fees in Kyrgyzstan. He said the transition to market mechanisms, under which water would be treated as a commodity, is a logical step. In his view, charging for water is aimed at modernizing water-resource management, increasing transparency, and ensuring efficient distribution in water-scarce regions. “Although water is a gift from heaven and its use can be regarded as the legitimate right of everyone, in a developed society the infrastructure for delivering this water requires significant costs. Ultimately, all water users and consumers must pay for delivery,” he said. Downstream governments do not accept that premise. Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan say no agreement has ever existed, and none exists now, to pay for river water. Kazakhstan’s Ministry of Water Resources and Irrigation said: “The introduction of payment for transboundary water is not provided for by the current contractual and legal framework and is not under consideration. The main emphasis is on improving the efficiency of water use within the country, building and modernizing reservoirs, reducing losses, and introducing water-saving technologies. The system remains based on recognized principles of water sharing, equality of parties, and long-term regional cooperation.” That leaves Central Asian water diplomacy with less room for ambiguity. Annual allocation agreements still function, and governments are investing in more efficient usage. Yet Kyrgyzstan’s warning has put a price tag on a resource downstream states have long treated as shared under existing agreements. Tajikistan, another upstream state, may face similar incentives as glacier loss and infrastructure costs rise. Whether the region can manage that debate without turning water into a new interstate dispute will depend on stronger data, clearer rules, and trust between upstream and downstream states.

Kurchatov: Kazakhstan’s Atomic City Finds New Life After Nuclear Tests

Strong winds, scorching sun, abandoned five-story apartment blocks standing next to occupied homes, crows and horses wandering the streets: this is how Kurchatov appears to visitors today. Once closed to outsiders, the city was the heart of Soviet nuclear science and military power. More than three decades after the closure of the Semipalatinsk Nuclear Test Site, how does this unique corner of Kazakhstan live now? Construction of the test site began on August 21, 1947. It covered 18,500 square kilometers at the intersection of what are now the Abai, Pavlodar, and Karaganda regions. Two years later, on August 29, 1949, the Soviet Union conducted its first nuclear test here. Soviet nuclear scientists helped create the country’s “nuclear shield,” but it was Kazakhstan that decades later brought the tests to an end. On August 29, 1991, by decree of President Nursultan Nazarbayev, the Semipalatinsk test site was officially closed. Over 42 years, at least 456 nuclear tests were carried out at the site, affecting more than 1.5 million people. The history of Kurchatov began as a military garrison. Because of its secrecy, the city changed names several times, including “Moscow-400,” “Nadezhda,” and “Bereg.” It later became known as Kurchatov, after Soviet physicist Igor Kurchatov, although for many years it remained better known by its code name: Semipalatinsk-21. The first builders and military personnel lived in extremely harsh conditions. “At first, many lived in dugouts, and the walls froze through completely,” older residents recall. “In winter, hair froze to the beds, and fingers were often frostbitten.” “I came to serve here from Moldova and thought I was going to a regional center. Instead, they sent us into the steppe, to the dugouts. No electricity, no heating, no gas. Cold, mud, wind. But I stayed anyway. I got married and later brought my parents here,” Viktor Bordei, who has lived in Kurchatov for 47 years, told The Times of Central Asia. [caption id="attachment_51250" align="aligncenter" width="1600"] Viktor Bordei, a resident of Kurchatov; image: TCA[/caption]

For many who served at the test site, their work felt like a matter of honor.

“We didn’t think about the consequences,” Bordei admits. “We believed we were strengthening the Soviet Union’s nuclear shield. Nobody spoke about the harm until Nazarbayev announced the damage done to nature and people. Of course, it’s painful to realize we were kept in the dark.”

Over time, memories of that period have become intertwined with nostalgia. Former residents recall developed infrastructure, well-stocked stores, and strict order. After the military left, Kurchatov took years to recover, losing both people and housing while preserving the spirit of its unusual past.

“I remember how the walls shook during the explosions. I also remember the day the military left. It was frightening, and nobody knew what would happen next. Now it hurts to see abandoned buildings and horses wandering the streets, but I don’t want to leave. The city is changing, and I believe in it,” says local resident Elena Kazachuk, who was born in Kurchatov.

Zoya Lapshina arrived in the city in 1979.

“The city was like an oasis. On the shelves there were Moscow biscuits, condensed milk, pineapples, strawberries in March. There was even a dairy kitchen for infants,” she recalls with a smile.

Another resident, Maria Stepanchuk, believes radiation never directly affected Kurchatov itself.

“The city was built wisely, taking wind patterns into account. We lived peacefully. Those years were like paradise for me. Now the city is slowly coming back to life,” she says.

The closure of the Semipalatinsk test site in 1991 did not mean life in Kurchatov stopped. On the contrary, the consequences of decades of testing were only beginning to emerge. After the military withdrew, it left behind ruined buildings, contaminated land, and dozens of hazardous facilities without proper oversight. Yet Kazakh scientists did not leave the city. They stayed and continued working despite difficult conditions.

One of those who devoted his life to Kurchatov was Vladimir Dmitropavlenko. He arrived in 1973 after graduating from the Moscow Aviation Institute to help build a test stand for nuclear reactor engines.

“The Americans had already carried out the first tests of such an engine, while in the USSR it existed only on paper. We created the Baikal test stand, where the Soviet prototype was tested for the first time. The facility still stands. The National Nuclear Center of Kazakhstan has two reactors: one is inactive, and the other is ours, the one we built,” he recalls.

Dmitropavlenko stayed in Kurchatov for life. He married there, raised children, and later served as the city’s mayor during the difficult years from 1997 to 2000.

“After the military left, the city was drained of life. Out of 20,000 residents, only about 5,000 remained. The infrastructure was ruined, there was nothing to heat homes with, and winter was approaching. Every day I looked at the boiler house chimney to see if smoke was coming out. If fuel had not arrived, the consequences would have been hard to imagine,” he says.

The situation began to change after a visit by former president Nazarbayev. His support, and the decision to create the National Nuclear Center of Kazakhstan, breathed new life into the city. Kurchatov once again became a scientific center rather than an abandoned military settlement.

Among those who stayed was nuclear physicist Vladimir Kotov. After graduating from Tomsk Polytechnic University, he came to Kurchatov to work on energy systems.

“I had the chance to work with outstanding people. Anatoly Alexandrov, for example, signed one of our papers. We created a prototype reactor for a nuclear rocket engine intended for space. And it is still operational,” Kotov says.

Kotov believes the creation of the test site was a historical necessity.

“It was a harsh but inevitable step at the time. Without it, the country could not have defended itself. And Nazarbayev’s decision to close the site after the collapse of the Soviet Union was wise and timely,” he reflects.

Now retired, Kotov continues to work. His projects focus on reducing uranium consumption and developing solar energy technologies for space missions.

Kotov regrets the changes in the role of science in society.

“In the past, young people aspired to work in laboratories. Today they want beauty salons or trade. We had one young woman who brilliantly calculated neutron-physics models, but then she left. Now she does eyelashes. She says she earns more. Unfortunately, that’s our modern reality,” Kotov says.

The closure of the Semipalatinsk test site marked not an end, but the beginning of a new chapter. In 1992, the National Nuclear Center of Kazakhstan was established in Kurchatov, with the mission of redirecting the region’s scientific potential toward peaceful work.

Its main tasks include studying the safe use of atomic energy, conducting environmental research, and assessing the condition of sites remaining on the former testing ground.

Today, the center’s institutes carry out crucial work: monitoring radiation levels, assessing land contamination, and determining which areas are safe for economic activity.

“Comprehensive studies that began in the 1990s are now nearing completion. We can already say with confidence that the areas where the testing grounds were located remain dangerous. Radiation levels there are still high. But the surrounding territories, on the contrary, show normal background levels and can be used for agriculture and other activities,” says Almira Aidarkhanova, head of the Environmental Monitoring Systems Development Department at the National Nuclear Center.

More than thirty years have passed since the explosions fell silent. Life in Kurchatov has not stopped; it has changed. The atom, once used for military power, now serves scientific and environmental purposes.

The city itself is changing too. Once filled with military personnel and scientists, Kurchatov went through years of hardship but is gradually reviving. Traces of the past remain visible: empty apartment blocks that once housed specialists, horses roaming calmly through the streets, and buildings that have lost some of their former shine. But these are also marks of history.

Today, Kurchatov surprises visitors with its silence and calm. One can walk across the entire city in less than half an hour without seeing a single police officer; locals say there is simply no crime. Instead, there are friendly, open people living at an unhurried pace, surrounded by silence, steppe winds, and memories of the time when the fate of the atomic age was decided here.

The test site has fallen silent, but science has not. The energy that once destroyed has become a source of knowledge, development, and hope for a safer future.

Central Asian Labor Migration Shifts as Russia Loses Some of Its Pull

Russia remains the main destination for many Central Asian labor migrants, but its dominance is weakening. Since the start of the war in Ukraine, Western sanctions, tougher Russian migration rules, and rising hostility toward migrants have pushed workers from the region to look elsewhere. South Korea, the Gulf states, the United Kingdom, Poland, Belarus, and other destinations are increasingly competing with Russia for Central Asian labor. The result is not a collapse of the old migration model, but a visible diversification of flows as the geography of labor migration from the region expands. Kazakhstan: From Destination Country to Source of Skilled Migrants Since the collapse of the Soviet Union, most labor migrants from Central Asia have traveled to Russia in search of work. A shortage of local labor, relatively decent wages, familiarity with the language, and a similar mentality have driven many to seek jobs in major Russian cities. Kazakhstan is an exception. It has not seen mass migration of its own citizens into lower-skilled jobs in Russia such as janitorial or construction work. Kazakhstan’s own economy offers such jobs, unemployment has remained low, and employers continue to report shortages in both manual work and skilled professions. The Bureau of National Statistics put unemployment at 4.5% in the first quarter of 2026. For this reason, Kazakhstan has also long been a destination for migrants from neighboring states, even if Russia has traditionally attracted larger flows. Kazakh citizens working abroad generally aim for higher-paying jobs in sectors requiring qualifications. The government was already tracking this in 2024, when the Ministry of Labor and Social Protection reported, using Foreign Ministry data, that 137,000 Kazakh citizens were abroad for employment purposes. The largest numbers were in Russia, South Korea, Turkey, and the UAE, with smaller numbers in Europe, North America, and elsewhere. A later Ministry report showed the same pattern, with Russia still dominant but alternatives clearly visible: of 126,000 Kazakh citizens employed abroad, 102,000 were in Russia, 15,000 in South Korea, and around 2,000 in the United Kingdom and European Union member states. Those leaving include economists, lawyers, technical specialists, teachers, and medical workers. Although outward labor migration remains limited compared with Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, or Tajikistan, it is adding to official concerns about the loss of qualified specialists. Officials believe Kazakhstan’s labor market is vulnerable to external competition, and a large share of those leaving have higher or technical vocational education. Salary gaps and differences in living standards make these destinations attractive. Qatar has recently joined the list of preferred destinations for labor migration. This has been made possible in large part by intergovernmental agreements signed between Qatar and Kazakhstan. Qatar is now actively recruiting Kazakh specialists, particularly in the oil and gas sector. According to Arman Shokparov, co-founder of People Consulting, around 600-700 Kazakh white-collar professionals currently work in Qatar. Nearly half work in the oil and gas sector, mainly in engineering and production roles. This trend does not mean Kazakhstan is only losing workers. It continues to attract immigrants and returnees, including ethnic Kazakhs under long-running resettlement programs, and the government is also trying to manage internal migration toward labor-short regions. Its new migration policy through 2030 prioritizes skilled migration and relocation to regions with shortages, underscoring that Kazakhstan is both a source and a destination in the region’s labor market. Uzbekistan: Organized Recruitment Beyond Russia According to Uzbekistan’s National Statistics Committee, as of January 1, 2026, the country’s permanent population stood at 38.2 million. Experts believe Uzbekistan can now claim to be the second-most populous post-Soviet state after Russia. Ukraine once held that position, but its population has declined significantly, and no census has been conducted there since 2000. Uzbekistan’s migration balance remained negative: 1,159 people moved to the country for permanent residence, while 10,117 left. Most immigrants to Uzbekistan come from former Soviet states. Russia remains the main source, accounting for 34.1% of all arrivals in the first quarter of 2026. Another 19.7% came from Kazakhstan, and 12.2% from Tajikistan. Kyrgyzstan accounted for 4.9%, and Turkmenistan 3.7%. The remaining 25.4% came from other countries. The number of Uzbek citizens working abroad reached 1.2 million, according to an official Migration Agency statement by director Behzod Musaev in May 2026. Unofficial estimates of the broader Uzbek population abroad are higher, but the categories differ and are not directly comparable. Traditionally, Russia and Kazakhstan were the main destinations for Uzbek labor migrants, and Russia remains central. TCA reported that around 106,000 Uzbek citizens went to work in Russia in 2025 through organized recruitment programs. However, migration trends are gradually shifting: organized recruitment to South Korea, the United Kingdom, Germany, the United States, Canada, and other European or Asian destinations is becoming more visible. The reason for this shift is not only tougher migration legislation in Russia, but also the search for higher wages, safer legal channels, and more predictable working conditions. Kyrgyzstan: Russia Still Dominates, but Alternatives Are Expanding Between January and March 2026, around 3,400 people arrived in Kyrgyzstan for permanent residence, while 353 left. These figures come from the National Statistics Committee. Some analysts link this positive migration balance to relocants from Russia. In 2022, 1.09 million Kyrgyz citizens were temporarily absent from their permanent place of residence. Of these, 964,600 people, or 88.1%, were away for work, meaning labor migrants accounted for 28% of the working-age population. As recently as 2025, government official Bakyt Darmankul uulu confirmed the trend: the number of Kyrgyz migrants in Russia has significantly declined in recent years. According to him, around 600,000 Kyrgyz citizens were working abroad at that time, including 379,000 in Russia. In 2020, the number in Russia stood at around 680,000. He said some returnees from Russia are now heading to other countries. Today, labor migration from Kyrgyzstan extends to 29 countries, with the United Kingdom currently the most in-demand destination. Most people going to Europe and Asia work in seasonal jobs. The UK has provided 40,000 quotas for foreign workers, 10,000 of them for Kyrgyzstan. Kyrgyz citizens also travel for work to Egypt, the UAE, Kazakhstan, Bahrain, Kuwait, Oman, Belarus, Estonia, Bulgaria, Austria, Hungary, South Korea, Turkey, and other countries. The growth of alternative routes is creating a need for better oversight. TCA reported in 2026 that 159 private agencies in Kyrgyzstan held licenses to facilitate employment abroad, while interest in jobs in Europe and Southeast Asia had increased. These channels can make migration safer and more organized, but migrants still face risks when working conditions abroad do not match recruiters’ promises. Turkmenistan and Tajikistan: Flows Are Changing As always, official statistics for Turkmenistan and Tajikistan are mostly available only through foreign sources. Nevertheless, citizens of both countries are increasingly less likely to see Russia as their only realistic destination for work. In Poland, for example, labor migration from Central Asia is growing. In the first quarter of 2026, Tajik citizens received around 6,000 work permits, according to Marta Jaroszewicz of the Centre of Migration Research at the University of Warsaw. She estimated that up to 30,000 Central Asian migrants now live in Poland, with most from Uzbekistan, followed by Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and Tajikistan. According to Jaroszewicz, in the first quarter of 2026 Poland issued around 16,000 work permits to Uzbek citizens, 12,000 to Kazakhs, nearly 8,000 to Kyrgyz citizens, and 6,000 to Tajiks. She stressed that labor migration to Poland remains predominantly male. She also believes migration from Central Asia to Europe could grow substantially in the coming years, driven by demographics, population growth, and a large number of young people and students. Belarusian sources point to a similar shift in Turkmen flows, though figures vary by period and category. One report citing Belarus’ Department of Citizenship and Migration said Turkmenistan had become the largest source of foreign labor migrants, with 23,050 Turkmen citizens, or 48% of the total. Another shorter-period figure reported 6,915 arrivals. The key point is the same: Belarus has become a more visible destination for Turkmen workers, especially in services, construction, and equipment maintenance. Russian authorities also confirmed a significant decline in labor migration from Tajikistan in 2024. More recent reporting points to the same broader direction, with Tajikistan actively seeking new destinations for labor migrants. Tajik migration links with Russia remain deep, but some Russia-centered pathways are weakening as legal, political, and social conditions become more difficult. Russia remains the largest destination for many Central Asian workers, but it is no longer the only choice. The emerging pattern is not a sudden break with the post-Soviet migration system, but gradual diversification, with other destinations now part of a broader labor-migration map. For Central Asian governments, this creates opportunities, including higher wages, remittances, and legal recruitment channels, as well as risks such as brain drain, worker vulnerability abroad, and stronger competition for skilled labor at home.

U.S. Business Push in Central Asia Moves From Dialogue to Deals

The pace of U.S. commercial engagement in Central Asia has quickened in recent weeks, with business delegations, export-finance officials, and sector-specific agreements appearing across the region. In June, a U.S. business delegation discussed investment opportunities in Turkmenistan, while Assistant Secretary of Commerce and Director General of the U.S. and Foreign Commercial Service David L. Fogel used the Astana Mining and Metallurgy Congress to press for practical cooperation in critical minerals. That same month, the Tashkent International Investment Forum drew John Jovanovic, president and chairman of the Export-Import Bank of the United States, and Ben Black, chief executive officer of the U.S. International Development Finance Corporation. Kazakhstan and U.S. companies signed artificial intelligence agreements worth $10 billion, Uzbekistan agreed to reduce tariffs on a range of U.S. goods, and Kyrgyzstan’s Civil Aviation Agency held talks with U.S. Ambassador Leslie Viguerie on aviation cooperation. Taken together, these moves suggest a change in tone. Washington’s regional agenda is increasingly being expressed through commercial missions, project finance, technology partnerships, and trade mechanisms rather than broad diplomatic declarations. The shift from diplomacy to deals is becoming visible in several capitals at once. [caption id="attachment_51210" align="aligncenter" width="1280"] Image: The Republic of Kazakhstan – the United States of America roundtable[/caption] Against that background, a roundtable titled “The Republic of Kazakhstan - the United States of America” was held in Astana on June 30. It was organized by Atameken National Chamber of Entrepreneurs, the U.S. Chamber of Commerce, and the Chamber of Commerce of Kazakhstan. The U.S. delegation was led by Khush Choksy, senior vice president for international member relations at the U.S. Chamber of Commerce, who oversees programs in the Middle East, Türkiye, and Central Asia. The Kazakh delegation was led by Ambassador Yerzhan Kazykhan, Kazakhstan’s presidential representative for negotiations with the United States. For Choksy, the visit continued a longer push by the U.S. Chamber. He visited Kazakhstan in 2023 and 2025, and has repeatedly described the country as a strong platform for American business. Yet trade remains modest compared with the political ambition attached to the relationship. According to Kazakh government data, bilateral trade between Kazakhstan and the U.S. reached $3.19 billion in 2025, while USTR estimates U.S. goods trade with Kazakhstan at $5 billion. U.S. goods trade with Uzbekistan, the region’s most populous country, was just over $1 billion in 2025. The figures underline the gap between strategic interest and commercial scale. The reasons for this are not limited to distance. Disrupted logistics, sanctions risks linked to Russia’s war in Ukraine, and instability in parts of the Middle East have complicated long-distance trade. The Jackson-Vanik amendment, adopted in 1974, also remains formally applicable to Kazakhstan despite repeated efforts in Washington to repeal it and grant the country permanent normal trade relations status. The Astana roundtable brought together government agencies, companies, international corporations, financial institutions, and policy experts. Participants discussed investment cooperation, energy, digital transformation, infrastructure, innovation, transport, and logistics. B2B meetings were also held, along with meetings between U.S. companies and Kazakh ministries and agencies. Deputy Prime Minister Serik Zhumangarin opened the event. He outlined the conditions available to investors in the Astana Special Economic Zone and pointed to large project pipelines in mining, infrastructure, and utilities. According to Zhumangarin, Kazakhstan’s mineral extraction and processing potential is estimated at about $95 billion. He said the national investment plan includes more than 200 projects worth around $80 billion, while modernization of utility networks could add another $25 billion. Kazykhan framed Kazakhstan as the region’s main entry point for U.S. companies. “Today, Kazakhstan accounts for around 60% of Central Asia’s GDP,” he said. “More than 600 American companies operate in our country, and cumulative U.S. investment exceeds $100 billion.” He pointed to Chevron and ExxonMobil in energy, Wabtec and Boeing in transport infrastructure, John Deere, Caterpillar, and Honeywell in industry, and Microsoft, Amazon, and Google in digital transformation. The examples were designed to show that U.S.-Kazakh cooperation is no longer confined to oil and gas. Kazykhan also emphasized transport. He said 85% of Eurasian transit container traffic passes through Kazakhstan, and that the country has invested $35 billion in transport infrastructure to keep routes reliable and diversified. AI formed another part of the push. Astana plans to host a C5+1 AI Conference on the margins of the Digital Bridge Forum in October, giving Kazakhstan a platform to promote cooperation with the United States on trusted technologies, AI infrastructure, and the digital economy. Choksy said the U.S. Chamber would advocate for American companies in support of a bipartisan congressional initiative to repeal Jackson-Vanik fully for Kazakhstan and grant the country permanent normal trade relations status. Recent U.S. activity in Central Asia clearly indicates a rethinking of the region’s role in international cooperation. Leaders are moving from cautious talk about the need for economic development and mutually beneficial trade to concrete, pragmatic projects. The parties are striving to increase mutual investment, exchange and develop technology, and grow mutually beneficial trade. It is precisely this mutual interest that should guarantee stable economic development and security in this part of Eurasia.