Recent Developments in the Russian Government's Application of the Foreign Agent Law

My name is Dezeree Hodish and I’m currently a Ph.D. candidate in the Department of History at the University of Kansas.  Over the next few weeks, my research and blog posts will focus on the Russian government’s implementation and application of its “foreign agent” law and the growing restrictions placed on Russian NGOs. For those unfamiliar with this legislation, I refer you to the following English-language sources: 

·         Bill Bowring’s short article, “Russian Legislation and NGOs in Russia,” published in the Russian Analytical Digest

·         The International Center for Not-for-Profit Law’s report on Russia

·         RIA Novosti’s English language infographic - walks readers through the penalties foreign agents face.

According to Aleksei Zhafyarov, Russia’s Procurator General and deputy head of the Prosecutor General’s Office, there are more than 2,200 NGOs in Russia that have received nearly one million rubles from foreign sources; 22 of these organizations are listed as foreign agents. However, according to the Russian Ministry of Justice’s website , which tracks registered foreign agents, only one organization is officially listed.  The lack of up-to-date information from official channels and the ambiguity of the law’s wording (which is still being contested) illustrates the contentiousness of a piece of legislation that appears to be only one part of a larger campaign to reduce the connections between Russian NGOs and their international counterparts. 

The debate regarding the foreign agent law has largely been limited to the realm of Russian media, heavily controlled by the government, that continual details infractions of the law by popular NGOs.  Zhafyarov revealed that there have been more than 500 violations found during the course of inspections that occurred during the spring of this year; inspections which many NGOs claim were unlawfully carried out and which will continue in the future.  The Ministry of Justice also recently announced that it will try to amend the laws on NGOs to make it easier to fine the leaders of organizations not complying with the foreign agent law.  

The application of the foreign agent law continues despite protest by intellectuals and NGO leaders, but, a recent Levada-Center poll suggests that the Russian people support its application and the government’s actions.  A majority of those surveyed—53%—supported the government’s sanctioning of NGOs who violate the foreign agent law, while nearly half of those surveyed supported the government’s more restrictive measures on NGOs. Furthermore, 19% of Russians surveyed had a negative opinion of NGOs—a 6% increase from last year.  Only 50% of those surveyed had a favorable opinion of NGOs.  Most notable was the fact that 52% of respondents had no “clear idea” of what purpose an NGO served.  A remarkable 29% responded that they had never even heard of the term NGO.  Aleksei Grazhdankin, Deputy Director of the Levada-Center, attributed Russians’ perceptions to “television propaganda,” but notes that this remained a “weak influence” since Russians know very little about NGOs.  Russians’ weak understanding of NGOs and their purpose, coupled with incessant negative reports of their activities, understandably contribute to the government’s ability to enforce the law, since they are met with little resistance from the bulk of the population.

While increasing their monitoring of NGO activities, the government has also tried to bring these entities closer to it by awarding presidential grants.  Recipients include the Moscow Helsinki Group, Agora, and “For Human Rights”; all suspected of being foreign agents.  In total, the Public Chamber announced that there were 1,087 successful applications selected out of 5,855 applicants. Kommersant reports that this is a significant increase from last year when only 64 organizations were selected to receive grants.  This year the program awarded 2.3 billion rubles to NGOs.  Unsurprisingly, Golos—an NGO accused of being a foreign agent quite vocal about the foreign agent law—did not receive a presidential grant. Izvestiya reports that:

“A source close to the president’s administration explained that out of all of the disloyal organizations toward the government, Golos is the only one which demonstrates an unwillingness to obey the current NGO law.  The organization categorical refuses to receive the status of a foreign agent, even though, according to information from the General Procurator, it receives money from other countries.”

Gregory Melkonyants, leading activist of Golos, told Kommersant that “the [presidential] grants are only for pseudo-NGOs, created under the authority of the government.”  He added that “the government is not afraid to acknowledge corruption, problems in the army and prisons, but elections are a sacred cow.”  Melkonyats infers that the government will not support a project that demonstrates the illegitimacy of elections since they are the basis of its power.      

The U.S. government has also been drawn into the debate regarding the foreign agent law and Kremlin grants.  The newest accusation of U.S. support of Russian NGOs and the circumvention of the foreign agent law appeared last week in Izvestiya.  The newspaper attacked the U.S. Peer-to-Peer Dialogue Program, a newly created program sponsored by the Department of State and administered by the Public Affairs Office at the U.S. Embassy, Moscow. According to their website, the program “…will provide small grants to support collaboration, including meetings, virtual interactions, exchanges, and internships, between American and Russian organizations…” The description notes that “projects must be non-political in nature and focus on Russian-American peer-to-peer dialogue or people-to-people engagement on themes of mutual interest.” 

The pro-Kremlin newspaper, argues that the program is the U.S. government’s attempt to “save Russian NGOs oriented toward Western values and those that are continually opposing the government”—specifically those that the foreign agent law targets.  Most importantly, the paper alleges that the new program is a direct competitor to the Kremlin’s grant program: “[Russian] political scientists think that the [U.S.] Department of State was concerned about the possible withdrawal of Russian NGOs from under the American financial umbrella.”  This line of thinking influenced two prominent NGO groups:  Agora and the Moscow Helsinki Group.  Representatives from both organizations expressed their surprise at the program’s creation and their unwillingness to submit applications to it.  Unsurprisingly, both organizations received presidential grants, while Golos—an organization that expressed interest in applying for all types international funding—did not.

The developments over the past few weeks demonstrate that the application of the NGO foreign agent law is but one part of a larger campaign to draw Russian NGOs away from Western counterparts and closer to the Russian government. The negative press coverage, coupled with Russians’ unfamiliarity of NGO activities, have contributed to the government’s ability to increase their observation and involvement in the non-governmental sector. 

Sources

Embassy of the United States, Moscow, Russia.  US-Russia Peer-to-Peer Dialogue Program. http://moscow.usembassy.gov/us-russiadialogue.html

“Genprokuratura: V Rossii bole 2,2 tyc. NKO poluchaiut inostrannoe finansirovanie.”  Novye izvestiya, August 22, 2103. http://www.newizv.ru/lenta/2013-08-22/187682-genprokuratura-v-rossii-bolee-22-tys-nko-poluchajut-inostrannoe-finansirovanie.html

“Gosped SShA podgotovil novuiu programmu dlia obkhoda zakona on NKO.” Izvestiya,August 23, 2013. http://izvestia.ru/news/555867#ixzz2e2MqCU2

Kornia, Anastasia. “Miniust zaregistriroval pervuiu NKO—inostannogo agenta.”  Vedomosti, July 1, 2103. http://www.vedomosti.ru/politics/news/2013/07/01/13677161

“Kremlevskii grant ostalsia bez ‘Golosa’” Izvestiya, August 28, 2013. http://izvestia.ru/news/556223

Ministerstva iustitsii Rossiiskoi Federatsii.  O deiatel’nosti nekommersheskikh organizatsii.  http://unro.minjust.ru/NKOForeignAgent.aspx

Nagornykh, Irina and Taisiia Bekbulatova “Grantam prezidenta rasshirila poluchatelei” Kommersant, August 29, 2013. http://kommersant.ru/doc/2265927

“Putin: zakon ob NKO ne stoit uzhestochat’ ili liberalizirovat’” Novaya gazeta, August 6, 2013. http://www.novayagazeta.ru/news/74954.html

“Rossiiane podderzhivaiut zhestkie mery v otnoshenii NKO.”  Izvestiya, July 11, 2013. http://izvestia.ru/news/553387

 

Tumanov, Grigorii and Viacheslav Kozlov. “Zakon ob NKO trebuiut privesti v konstitutsionnuiu normy.” Kommersant, August 13, 2013.  http://kommersant.ru/doc/2254096

Book Review: Polonskaya, Ludmila, Alexei Malashenko. 1994. Islam in Central Asia. Ithaca: Reading. [2008]

Book Review: Polonskaya, Ludmila, Alexei Malashenko. 1994. Islam in Central Asia. Ithaca: Reading. [2008]

This text, which was originally published in 1994, is intended to serve as a basic introduction to the topic of Islam in Central Asia. As a rudimentary chronological description of historical events in the region, the book more or less succeeds (although its brevity means it never delves too deeply); as a textured introduction to its putative subject, however, it is barely adequate.

The book begins with a brief description of the socio-religious landscape of Central Asia prior to the Arab conquests, leading up to Islam being introduced in the region. Each chapter thereafter provides a more-or-less rote historical account of a particular era in the region's history, loosely arranged around the theme of Islam -- "Islam and Central Asia before the Russian Conquest," "Islam in Central Asia from the Period of Colonization to the 1917 Revolution," "Islam and Moslems of Central Asia under the Communist Regime," and so forth. Even at this early juncture, however, some historiographical problems become evident: "Nomadic tribes," for instance, are described as being "all but isolated from the cultural life of Ma Wara al-Nahr despite their proximity to major trade routes" (31), which is an almost total misrepresentation of the long history of interactions between nomadic and settled peoples -- sometimes symbiotic, sometimes antagonistic.  Moreover, the gradual adoption of Islam in Central Asia is attributed in part to Islam being "the most down-to-earth and pragmatic of all the religions known in Central Asia" (9). No evidence is produced to support this claim, and what exactly this statement is supposed to mean is left for the reader to gauge. Problems such as this persist throughout.

Indeed, the book’s largest flaw lies in the way it handles Islam itself. Throughout the course of the book, the notion of “Islam in Central Asia” is never adequately explained. In fact, Islam itself is never really discussed as a religion. Instead, it is referred to in vague, totalistic terms. Thus, the reader frequently encounters such assertions as “Islam was the most important factor in [Amir Timur’s] policies” (20) or “Sheikh Mansur approved of Shaibani’s plan to conquer Ma Wara al-Nahr and united Uzbek territories into a single state. A major role in that plan was reserved for Islam” (25). Again, precisely what is meant by statements like these is never explained: Islam is alternately treated as an abstract "thing" or a comprehensive ideology, neither of which the authors seem to feel the need to elucidate on.

At other times, Islam becomes a world-historical actor in its own right. The authors, for example, contend  at one point that “it is hardly likely that Islam will renounce its political presence in the near future” (120). Why individual Muslims have sought to merge religion and modern politics, or how they believe their views are religiously authorized, are never discussed. In fact, throughout Islam in Central Asia, Muslims as people largely disappear beneath the shadow of an abstract "Islam" that decides and acts entirely of its own accord.

Elsewhere in the book, however, Islam itself largely disappears, at least in any meaningful way: in a section entitled “Czarist Russia’s Islamic Policy” (41-44) the authors discuss issues such as mosque construction, pensions for religious figures, the state's printing of copies of the Qur’an, the abolishment of waqf lands, and the gradual imposition of imperial control over Central Asian states. All of these issues are interesting and important, of course, but, contrary to the authors’ claims, they do not amount to an “Islamic policy” so much as a set of institutional initiatives that have little to do with Islam as a religion. To call this an "Islamic policy" is to confuse Islam with certain of its positive manifestations.

There are numerous other criticisms that could be made, but the aforementioned should suffice to indicate some of the more grievous problems. The question then becomes one of why two eminent and reputable scholars (Malashenko, for instance is the co-chair of the Carnegie Moscow Center's "Religion, Society, and Security" program) would publish a book with so little meaningful content about the subject it purports to treat. The most probable explanation is that the book’s failings are rooted, to a large degree, in methodological problems inherited from a distinctly Soviet view of Islam, one that relied heavily on inappropriate and inapplicable epistemological categories. To take but one glaring example, contrary to the authors’ repeated assertions, Islam does not have any such institution as a “clergy." Elsewhere, the authors refer to Islam as "a uniform socio-cultural and political complex existing in space and time" (105), a statement that is more reflective of Soviet attitudes towards religion than of the reality of Islam. Throughout the book, there is evidence of the Soviet tendency to project ethno-nationalist and/or ideological concepts into the past, even when they are wholly inappropriate. Thus, we read that “Islam was a fully established ideology that could be used by political leaders [in the 19th century] to unite Central Asian peoples into ethnic entities” (66) and that “Islam is the most politicized religion in the world” (120). As in other cases, what exactly is meant by assertions like this – and what they have to do with religion – is never adequately explained by the authors.

For the aforementioned reasons, then, this book does not really succeed as an account of Islam in Central Asia. Religion, in all its richness and nuance, is completely obscured by the strange and faceless thing the authors refer to as “Islam.” This “Islam,” in their narrative, is a changeless, leaden entity that lumbers through the ages, becoming little more than a tool in the hands of successive historical actors, albeit a tool that occasionally animates itself to wield some political power of its own. Such a depiction, however, robs Islam of any genuinely religious character. Readers in search of an adequate regional history loosely focused around the theme of Islam may find something of value here; however, scholars looking for insights into Islam in Central Asia would do best to avoid Islam in Central Asia.

Kyrgyzstan's Borders in the 21st Century

Contemporary borders in Central Asia only date back to the early 20^th century. During the Soviet period, national republics were created for many of the region’s numerous ethnic groups. The administrative borders between Union Republics that were drawn during this period survived the Soviet Union to become international borders between independent states. Almost overnight, republics that had previously been tied together by a centrally planned economy and political system, and which shared infrastructure and resources, become independent states with oftentimes wildly divergent leadership and policies, levels of development, and access to natural resources.

Like its neighbors, the Kyrgyz Republic has, since independence, struggled to secure its borders, which, in many areas, remain porous and contested. Border conflicts with Uzbekistan have become sadly commonplace. Numerous Uzbek exclaves – territory that is legally part of Uzbekistan, but completely surrounded by Kyrgyz territory – exist within the Kyrgyz Republic. Residents of these exclaves must pass through international borders several times in order to travel to other parts of Uzbekistan, leaving them vulnerable to isolation. Numerous Tajik exclaves exist as well, and like the Uzbek exclaves, they are frequently the scenes of interethnic violence.

In 1999, the Ferghana Valley region witnessed several large-scale attacks by the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan (also known as the Islamic Movement of Turkestan). Between 1999 and 2001, the IMU carried out a number of attacks, including bombings and kidnappings, in Uzbekistan and southern Kyrgyzstan, and lent support to Taliban forces in Afghanistan. In response, the Uzbek and Kyrgyz governments have implemented numerous anti-terrorism initiatives in cooperation with the United States and other international actors. Given the IMU’s cross-border activities and the continuing instability in Afghanistan, border security, including preventing document forgery, is one of the major emphases of these projects.

The Kyrgyz Republic has also become a hub for the trafficking of drugs from Afghanistan. Kyrgyz authorities routinely apprehend smugglers, but weak border security, particularly with Tajikistan, means that the problem continues largely unabated. This has led to the rise of organized crime and growing amounts in drug abuse and drug-related problems, such as HIV/AIDS, within Kyrgyzstan itself. The government has tried to increase border patrols, but the mountainous terrain and the lack of resources make enforcement difficult.

Apart from the threat of drug smuggling and violence from the IMU or other terrorist organizations, the Kyrgyz Republic’s borders also have a profound impact on the governance of the state itself. The country’s second largest city, Osh, is home to a large ethnic Uzbek population, which maintains strong ties to other cities in the Ferghana Valley, the majority of which is in Uzbekistan. Border controls, however, are strict, and the Uzbek government periodically closes the border entirely. Osh, and the southern part of the country more generally, are separated from the rest of Kyrgyzstan by high mountain ranges. Roads through these mountains are frequently blocked during bad weather, meaning that expensive and infrequent flights from Bishkek or land routes that cross the Ferghana Valley in Uzbekistan are the only ways to travel from the north to the south. Given the already limited influence the central government in Bishkek has over affairs in the south , and considering the long history of inter-ethnic violence in Osh, the Kyrgyz-Uzbek border also represents a centrifugal force that heightens the distance – politically and temporally – between Kyrgyzstan’s capital and its “second city.”

Economically speaking, Kyrgyzstan’s borders are double-edged swords. The Kyrgyz Republic is a landlocked state. If the borders are closed, so too are the main transit routes into the country, meaning the republic’s economy is dependent, to some extent, on the goodwill of its neighbors. On the other hand, the Kyrgyz Republic, along with Tajikistan, controls the majority of the upstream water resources that countries like Turkmenistan, Kazakhstan, and especially Uzbekistan, depend on – a fact that has not gone unremarked upon in Tashkent. Legally, the Kyrgyz government has a great deal of discretion over water resources inside its borders. Large-scale hydropower projects would serve to redistribute the balance of geopolitical power in the region in Kyrgyzstan’s favor by giving the Kyrgyz Republic greater control over how much water ultimately crosses the border into Uzbekistan. Stability along the Uzbek-Kyrgyz border may depend to a large degree upon the measure of the Uzbek government's response to any future development by the Kyrgyz government of its hydroelectric resources.

Borders are sometimes taken for granted. Oftentimes, they are conceived of as little more than the outline of a state, lines that goods and travelers must cross -- oftentimes with no small amount of hassle -- to get from one place to another. Borders, however, are always inherently political, and what happens at the border often carries with it regional consequences. As one Kyrgyz counter-terrorism expert has noted:

The situation in our region is inextricably linked to the processes in the Afghan-Pakistani border region, where the Islamic Jihad Union and Islamic Movement of Turkestan bases are located, generously supported by al Qaeda and the Taliban. According to various predictions, following the withdrawal of the International Security Assistance Force in Afghanistan, it is possible that the situation will worsen and that we will see an escalation in terrorist activity, with militants penetrating the borders and an increase in drug trafficking. This would lead to total destabilisation in Central Asia, and for this reason we are taking steps to neutralise and minimise these threats.

If international terrorism and drug trafficking are issues that attract a great deal of attention in places like Washington, D.C., hydroelectric power and internecine struggles between the northern and southern regions of the Kyrgyz Republic are less scrutinized. And yet it is clear that these matters, all of which deal in one way or another with borders, are just as crucial, if not moreso, to the long-term stability of Kyrgyzstan, and perhaps to the Central Asian region more generally. Refocusing our attention on borders gives us the perspective to recognize that security is not merely about what happens within particular states, but is equally a question of what happens between them. In this sense, the politics of the borders of the Kyrgyz Republic do not appear exceptional, but instructive. 

Kumtor Mine Protests: A Threat to Stability or Democratic Expression?

In May, 2013, thousands of protesters in the Kyrgyz Republic's Jety-Oguz district blocked access to the Canadian-owned Kumtor goldmine, the largest such mine in the country. According to Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, the protesters were there to demand the nationalization of the mine over allegations that Centerra, the company that owns the mine, was turning a blind eye to environmental damage and paying too little in taxes. The protests, however, quickly turned violent, and some 55 people were injured in clashes with police. Although the state of emergency was lifted after several days, further protests broke out at the end of June, with protesters once again demanding nationalization of the mine. 

This is not the first time that the Kyrgyz have protested against foreign-owned mining ventures. The latest protests come on the heels of similar protests against a Chinese mining concern in May. Kumtor itself has been the subject of heated controversy in the past, with some Kyrgyz lawmakers alleging that Centerra was not paying its fair share -- a mere $114 million for $941 million worth of gold, according to one source. Although the Kyrgyz government reportedly gained a 33% stake in operations at Kumtor, unrest surrounding the mine has not ceased. Considering that the Kyrgyz economy is heavily dependent on the export of raw materials, and gold in particular – Kumtor itself accounts for roughly 12% of the entire economy – the mine protests can be interpreted as democratic, populist reactions to the perception that the republic's most valuable assets are being bought up by foreign corporations whose only interest is extracting the country's natural resources. Many people see little benefit accruing to the Kyrgyz people from such operations, which frequently employ foreigners rather than locals:

"People are frustrated with a lack of jobs and with poverty, when a lucrative source of income right under their noses goes to foreigners," says Berdibek Dairov, a resident of Emgegchil [where a mine is located] who is critical of the fact that the mine's owners have hired Chinese instead of locals to work for them.

"Why should only the Chinese come and work here?" he asks. "Why can't Kyrgyz get that job? Our demand is that the Chinese must go. Kyrgyz guys have to work here. If the Chinese must work here, then [authorities] have to hand over the mine to local companies for developing. Then Chinese workers can work for us."

However, the demonstrations also point to the ongoing development of a culture of mass protest in the Kyrgyz Republic. Although the mass mobilizations against the governments of Askar Akaev in 2005, and Kurmanbek Bakiev in 2010 were expressions of popular discontent with the corruption and venality of increasingly authoritarian governments, as Kevin Jones has argued, the institutionalization of mass demonstrations is potentially problematic:

The Kyrgyz pattern of protest is so deeply rooted that the most effective threat used by political entrepreneurs is that they will call out their supporters to protest or demonstrate on a particular issue. This represents a failure of the Kyrgyz democratic process. A functioning democracy depends on a functioning legal process. If leaders can be chosen by mass protests, courts overthrown by the most vocal opponent, and presidents removed by a crowd of a few hundred, democracy does not exist. Until the Kyrgyz Republic can establish institutions through which political entrepreneurs can address legitimate concerns and grievances, street protests will continue to serve as the solution to all political, social, and economic problems.

Moreover, the Institute for War and Peace Reporting has repeatedly noted the existence of so-called "rent-a-mobs" in Kyrgyzstan – essentially paid activists who will take part in any protest that promises monetary compensation, regardless of what the protest is about. Marcin Szymanek writes that

[t]his phenomenon is called OBON: an umbrella name for the informal groups organised into rent-a-mob structures, who offer services such as staging protests, breaking them up or heckling and harassing opponents of their clients. The last two revolutions in Kyrgyzstan which overthrew regimes in 2005 and 2010, as well as manifestations and other public gatherings which entailed the clashes in the city of Osh, were battlegrounds in which OBON “activists” actively took part.

The institutionalization of mass protest means that direct actions of this nature are increasingly becoming a default tactic, and the monetarization of protest guarantees that large numbers of people can be counted upon to attend any given demonstration. This combination sets the stage for such actions to spiral out of control, as happened in October, 2012, when around 1000 people gathered in Bishkek, ostensibly to protest against the Kumtor mine. However, incited by the nationalist politician Kamchybek Tashiev, the mob stormed the Kyrgyz parliamentary building and attempted to overthrow the government of President Almazbek Atambaev. Tashiev and three other leaders of the nationalist Ata-Jurt (Homeland) party were arrested, prompting Ata-Jurt supporters in Jalal-Abad to protest and demand that they be released. When the judge presiding over the case was attacked by Ata-Jurt partisans, Tashiev and his cohorts were acquitted of all charges and set free.

The very possibility of the Kumtor protests, and the government's measured reaction to them, clearly demonstrate that the Kyrgyz Republic remains the most politically open society in Central Asia -- despite the violence that broke out between police and protesters, it is nevertheless instructive to compare the Kumtor demonstrations to the Kazakh government's handling of the Zhanaozen protests, to say nothing of the events in Andijon. That being said, there are also worrisome aspects that should not be ignored. The potential for any popular demonstration to be exploited by what Jones calls "political entrepreneurs" is amplified by a burgeoning "culture of protest" in Kyrgyzstan, which itself is fed by the monetarization of direct action. As in October 2012, such mass mobilizations can serve as pretexts for coup attempts in the mould of the 2005 and 2010 revolutions. 

Moreover, as in the case of the 2012 and 2013 Kumtor mine protests, demonstrations also have the potential to become the venue for regional rivalries. Both in 2012 and during the most recent protests, supporters of opposition parties based in the south have featured prominently. Tashiev's nationalist Ata-Jurt party has its strongest base of support in southern regions, such as Jalal-Abad, and populist protests like those at Kumtor present perfect opportunities to destabilize or replace the government of President Atambaev, whose power base is in the north.

In the final analysis, then, the protests over the Kumtor mine, and others like them, cannot be neatly categorized. On the one hand, the anger over the perception that foreign companies are despoiling the country's environment and profiting from Kyrgyzstan's natural resources, with few appreciable benefits to most Kyrgyz citizens, appears genuine. Kyrgyzstan's relatively open society and tradition of protest means that these citizens have the opportunity to express their discontent in a forum that does not exist to any appreciable degree in neighboring states. On the other hand, this same tradition of protest, combined with the success of mass mobilizations against the Akaev and Bakiyev regimes and the fact that many protesters are revenue-seeking opportunists, means that political entrepreneurs have both incentive and means to try to leverage popular unrest to achieve local and regional geopolitical aims.

Kyrgyz Perceptions of the American Transit Center at Manas Airport

Named after the eponymous hero of the “Manas Epos,” the Kyrgyz national epic, the American Transit Center at the Manas airport near Bishkek, the capital of Kyrgyzstan was originally opened through an agreement with Kyrgyzstan’s former President, Askar Akayev, in December of 2001 to support operations in Afghanistan. The siting of the base in Kyrgyzstan was a political coup for Akayev -- the government of Tajikistan had also hoped to negotiate a deal to open an airbase, but Manas was ultimately chosen instead – and brought much-needed money into the sagging Kyrgyz economy, factors that both helped to shore up Akayev’s legitimacy during a period in which his government was becoming increasingly unpopular.

From the very beginning, however, the Transit Center has been mired in controversy. During the Akayev era, much of the money that was flowing into Kyrgyzstan through Manas ended up in the hands of corrupt government insiders, including members of Akayev’s family. As Alexander Cooley has noted, “[t]he lion’s share of base-related funds flowed not to national agencies… but to private Kyrgyz entities closely tied to the ruling regime.” When Akayev was ousted in the 2005 Tulip Revolution, his successor, Kurmanbek Bakiyev, took a harder line on the base, and demanded more money from the U.S. government to continue operating the base. Although Bakiyev was only able to extract limited concessions from the United States, he was successful in exploiting the popular association of the Manas Transit Center with the corruption of the Akayev regime. This perception has only continued to grow, since successive Kyrgyz governments have enriched themselves through Manas. Indeed, one analyst has written that Manas “has become a milling method for the ruling elite.” Many local businessmen, moreover, have begun to complain that lobster, choice cuts of meat, and other gourmet food is being smuggled off the base by figures associated with organized crime and being sold at below-market prices in Bishkek, effectively undercutting their business. Decades of corruption and criminal activity have thus bred no small amount of resentment towards the presence of the Transit Center.

Another factor that contributes to bitterness vis-à-vis Manas is the widespread perception that the United States is an arrogant, imperialist power. Noise from the airbase, as well as jettisoning of fuel by American aircraft have enraged locals, as have incidents, such as a 2006 collision involving an American KC-135 Stratotanker and a civilian Tu-154. The handling of the 2006 shooting of Aleksandr Ivanov, a Kyrgyzstani driver who worked on the base, by Zachary Hatfield, an Air Force serviceman, only added to the perception that the United States has little regard for Kyrgyzstan beyond its utility as an airbase. Hatfield was never charged, and Ivanov’s family was offered $2000 in recompense, which Harper’s notes was “an act widely viewed in Kyrgyzstan as a calculated insult.” Harper's goes on to note that “The American management of the incident was totally bungled, leaving the local population with the idea that the Americans on the base were arrogant and not accountable to the law. The public’s view of Americans underwent a radical and sudden transformation. A nation once seen as generous benefactors now were seen as arrogant bullies.”

In the wake of the May, 2013 crash of another KC-135 at Manas, similar concerns are once again being voiced. There have been complaints that the Americans have been “obstructing” the examination by Kyrgyz authorities of the bodies of the servicemen killed in the crash. Although the United States is within its right to do so, such actions nevertheless contribute to the widespread view that the U.S. is supercilious and condescending towards its Kyrgyz counterparts. Others have gone so far as to say the way the United States handled the crash site effectively denied Kyrgyzstan’s sovereignty over parts of its own territory. In early May, a youth group, Zhon Ele, which has previously called for investigations into possible human rights violations, human trafficking, and drug smuggling at Manas, as well as into allegations that nuclear weapons targeted at Iran were located there (allegations that have been strenuously denied), held a protest against the base in Bishkek, shouting slogans like “Yankees, get out of Kyrgyzstan,” “Yankees, go home,” and “No to transit of NATO weapons.” They argued that military equipment had “no place adjacent to a civilian and international airport” and warned of the possibility that a fuel laden tanker jet could crash into a nearby city. Others in the Kyrgyz government have raised the spectre of American military aircraft crashing into the Chavlodar power plant, which is in the region. In an interview with Eurasianet, Roza Otunbayeva, the former President of Kyrgyzstan, claimed that the “whole [Kyrgyz] nation” worries of the possibility that the military base could become a target for terrorists. The base’s very proximity to Bishkek is therefore a major concern, at least from a security standpoint. 

Pressure from Russia is another major driver of Kyrgyz concerns vis-à-vis the Transit Center at Manas. Kyrgyzstan remains largely dependent on Russia for its military, economic, and energy needs, and so cannot afford to ignore Moscow. As Josh Kucera at Eurasianet has pointed out, “the Kremlin has offered a huge military aid package to Kyrgyzstan, which Russian officials have said is intended to shore up their geopolitical position in Central Asia, at the expense of the U.S.’s.” Kyrgyzstan is part of the Russian-led Collective Security Treaty Organization, and a Russian airbase in the city of Kant was established shortly after the U.S. began operating out of Manas. President Atambayev, moreover, appears to value closer ties with Russia than did his predecessors. Although he has declared that there will be “no military equipment” at Manas after 2014 and advocated turning the airport into a civilian hub, there have nevertheless been talks regarding the potential for developing a “joint Kyrgyzstan-Russian logistics center” at the base.

As of May 21, 2013, Kyrgyzstan has declared that the American Transit Center at Manas will indeed be closed by the end of 2014, as previously announced. Although some worry that the Americans’ departure will leave a deep hole in the Kyrgyz economy, President Atambayev has assured the public that the roughly 60 million dollars that will leave the country will be compensated by revenue from “other projects.” Barring any major developments, then, it would appear that Manas will indeed close according to the schedule dictated by the Kyrgyz government. Due to ongoing corruption associated with the base, perceptions that the Transit Center is an outpost for an arrogant and dismissive American empire, and continuing pressure from Kyrgyzstan's most important ally, Russia, local views of the American presence at Manas are not positive. Aside from those deriving direct benefit from the base’s continued operation – corrupt officials, organized crime, and regular employees who work at the base – it would appear that few in Kyrgyzstan will mourn its demise.

Russia Buys Production Rights for Ukrainian Transport Planes (commentary originally published in the April issue of Operational Watch)

          Exerting influence over the operations of Kyiv aircraft plant Construction Bureau (CB) Antonov has been a long-term goal of Russia because CB Antonov is one of the two fully functional plants on the post-Soviet territory in which the entire chain of aircraft development and production can be found under a single roof. While the other similar plant, CB Sukhoy, is capable of producing military airplanes, CB Antonov produces military, cargo, and passenger aircraft. Thus, CB Antonov is strategically important to Russia. The excerpt from the accompanying article discusses the recent agreement between the Samara aircraft plant Aviakor and CB Antonov for the transfer of intellectual property rights relating to the transport versions of passenger aircrafts AN-140S and AN-140T. This means that Aviakor will obtain proprietary maintenance rights for these aircraft, to extend its resources, and to alter the design without the Antonov design bureau’s involvement. These aircraft will replace the Russian Air Force’s AN-24 and AN-26 – the light military transport planes of which the Russian military owns around 300.  A contract with CB Antonov will enable the Russian Air Force to buy AN-140s from a Russian company, thus bypassing Ukraine.  It will also allow Russia to build a fleet of domestic aircraft. 

         Earlier, Russian Aviakor had complained about having to deal with the Ukrainian design bureau, which owned the relevant intellectual property and proprietary inspection rights, in order to eliminate defects discovered while using AN-140 aircraft purchased from CB Antonov. Aviakor was dissatisfied with the lengthy procedures and the nuisance of having to wait for Ukrainian approval before making alterations to the plane’s design. With the transfer of intellectual property rights to Russian Aviakor, which cost Russia several hundreds of millions of dollars, the situation has changed.  The main benefit of this deal is that it gives Russia full control over the purchase of aircraft from a Russian company Aviakor, thus assuring independence from political factors arising from dealing with foreign corporations.  Aviation expert Anton Lavrov, cited in the excerpt from the accompanying article, said that it is a common practice for other countries such as China to purchase property rights over foreign airplanes; however, this is the first time Russia has made such an agreement with a foreign company. 

         Collaboration in the airplane construction industry has thus been used by Russia to further its political agenda. For example, Mikhail Zubarov, the Russian ambassador to Ukraine, recently announced that Russia is ending its collaboration with Ukraine to produce AN-70 military and cargo aircraft. The status of projects related to the modernization of AN-140 and AN-124 fleets is currently in question as well. In fact, some experts believe that Russian plans to modernize Ukrainian airplanes without Ukraine’s participation are evidence of a direct attack against Ukrainian aircraft construction industry. This may be intended to pressure Ukraine into joining the Russian-dominated Customs Union, which would jeopardize Ukraine’s participation in the World Trade Organization. 

         There are no legal barriers excluding Russia from modernizing its fleet now that Russia owns the intellectual property rights to several Ukrainian aircraft. However, Russia may lack the expertise to conduct its own modernizations, and may therefore attempt to outsource Ukrainian engineers and experts. Although this situation has obvious negative consequences for Ukraine, it also has the potential to open up additional opportunities for Ukraine’s collaboration with the West and South-East Asia. Ukraine would be forced to search for partners other than Russia to ensure the long-term sustainability of its strategically important aircraft building industry.

Source:  Aleksey Mikhaylov, “Russia Is Purchasing the Rights to the Ukrainian An-140T Airplane. The Air Force Will Not Have To Depend on Foreign Suppliers,” Izvestiya Online, 27 March 2013.