
4. Political and civil liberties and human rights
Kazakhstan’s abuses of political and civil liberties are routinely overlooked by the West for reasons of expediency. Tokayev promises a more tolerant approach, but still has much to do to prove the regime is serious about liberalization.
The trajectory of Nursultan Nazarbayev’s 28-year rule of independent Kazakhstan was one of creeping authoritarianism, bar in the early years of independence, when the country – like most of the post-Soviet world – briefly flirted with the notion of developing into a Western-style democracy after the USSR’s collapse. Under Nazarbayev, the regime’s attitude towards human rights reflected the downward spiral into authoritarianism. Political and civil liberties were routinely flouted, and violations have continued since his resignation in March.
Since this report does not have scope to cover the full spectrum of human rights issues, this chapter focuses on political and civil liberties, which are in the spotlight as Kazakhstan navigates its political transition. This chapter specifies some of the human rights obligations that the government is failing to uphold, both under international agreements to which it is signatory – the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR)97 and the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR)98 – and under Kazakhstan’s own constitution99 and legislation.
Nazarbayev’s resignation creates a window of opportunity for improvements in the country’s troubling human rights record, and there are some indications that the new administration may seize it, if it perceives this to be in its interests. Kassym-Jomart Tokayev, the new president, has described himself as a ‘reformer’;100 has offered dialogue (of sorts) with civil society;101 has pledged to liberalize restrictive legislation governing the right to protest;102 and has permitted some demonstrations.103 A ‘Kazakh Spring’ may not be in the air, but the winds of change are blowing. These are positive developments on which to build. International actors should seize the moment to nudge for reform.
Under Nazarbayev, the government paid lip service to democratic values and the protection of human rights, while simultaneously clamping down on political and civil liberties. The regime became increasingly intolerant of challenges not only to its rule, but also to its vision of what Kazakhstan should be and how its people should think. It interpreted trifling challenges to its policies as existential threats, revealing profound insecurities about the true level of public support for Nazarbayev. Admitting to problems was – and continues to be – troublesome, for it debunks the myth that Nazarbayev enjoys near-universal public backing, which remains a cornerstone of official ideology to foster regime legitimacy. As a result, political, economic and social problems remain unaddressed and unresolved. This has created disaffection and prompted protests, which gathered pace after Nazarbayev’s resignation. The authorities have generally responded to outbursts of dissent with clampdowns and arrests.
Despite constraints on his power, Tokayev has the opportunity to break this destructive cycle by loosening the state’s control, engaging in genuine dialogue with the people he governs, and reforming both policy and practice. ‘Different views, but one nation’ was an encouraging slogan he voiced on his inauguration day in June.104 But delivering on the promises of liberalization is more challenging than reciting slogans. Nazarbayev retains broad powers, and these were expanded in October via a decree granting him – in his capacity as Security Council chairman – a consultative role in senior political and law-enforcement appointments that could in practice be wielded as a veto.105 This expansion of the role of the security apparatus in decision-making is troubling, and compounds concerns that the former president and hawks in his entourage may resist reforms. Yet pragmatic decision-makers – including Tokayev and (in certain conditions) Nazarbayev – may conclude that democratic liberalization and action to bolster human rights are in the regime’s interests in terms of both accommodating and controlling the disaffection that is manifest.
The social contract is wearing thin, with political and socio-economic grievances more vocally and widely expressed, both online and on the streets
Kazakhstan’s troubling human rights record notwithstanding, there are at least some foundations on which to build. Citizens enjoy greater political and civil liberties than some of their neighbours (a comparison is beyond the scope of this report). Many respect (some revere) Nazarbayev (see Chapter 1). Many gladly endorsed Tokayev as his chosen successor. Many accept the tacit social contract of social stability and (relatively, and patchily) rising prosperity in exchange for restricted political and civil liberties. Those who consent to this trade-off generally live free of state harassment.
Yet there is abundant evidence that the social contract is wearing thin, with political and socio-economic grievances more vocally and widely expressed, both online and on the streets. The leadership transition has lifted the lid on popular frustrations. The detention of thousands of peaceful protesters early in Tokayev’s rule has exacerbated resentments. Under Nazarbayev, people who rejected the social contract and crossed certain boundaries in expressing their opinions faced penalties ranging from harassment and intimidation to prosecution and prison – and, on occasion, violence. This is a cycle that Tokayev needs to break.
Under Nazarbayev, the administration established a virtual stranglehold over almost all aspects of public life: from politics to the press, from civil society to religious worship to trade unionism. Ridding Kazakhstan’s political scene of organized opposition proved easier than ridding the public discourse of dissenting views, so the authorities expended – and continue to expend – large amounts of time and energy chasing down advocates of reform. Redirecting the administration’s energies towards addressing grievances rather than crushing dissent would benefit not only Kazakhstan’s populace but also its rulers, who could boost social stability and economic competitiveness by addressing human rights. Intolerance of alternative views hampers the development of accountable governance and rational policymaking, with risky future implications. So far, Tokayev has ‘failed to bring Kazakhstan closer to UN human rights norms’, Human Rights Watch said in November.106 Time will tell if Tokayev will deliver on his pledge to head a ‘listening state’ – a government that listens to its citizens and is open to constructive dialogue.
Human dignity
Kazakhstan’s government sees human rights as ‘closely linked with development, namely with economic growth, political and social development’.107 There is a heavy – and laudable – emphasis on improvements in areas that ‘directly concern the basic rights of our citizens to a life of dignity and quality’, such as healthcare, education, job creation and poverty reduction, a minister told the UN Human Rights Council in 2011.108 This is true, although the statement that Kazakhstan had ‘steadfastly worked to realize basic human rights and freedoms’ was highly disputable, given restrictions on the exercise of fundamental political and civil liberties.
Kazakhstan has paid greater attention than many neighbours to improving economic and social well-being, with tangible results – from dramatic declines in poverty to a sharp rise in life expectancy since independence
Kazakhstan has paid greater attention than many neighbours to improving economic and social well-being, with tangible results – from dramatic declines in poverty to a sharp rise in life expectancy since independence.109 The country performs strongly on protecting the rights of minorities (who account for 32 per cent of the population). Anti-discrimination laws exist; education in minority languages is provided; the right to use Russian – the language of the largest minority – in the public domain is legally enshrined.
In human rights dialogues with the international community, the government shifts the focus away from infringements of political and civil liberties, where it performs poorly, towards its stronger performance in protecting minority rights and its strides in achieving development goals. It acknowledges problems with its record on civil liberties, but denies the existence of systemic abuses – although many fundamental rights are guaranteed de jure but flouted in practice.
That Western powers shy away from publicly challenging Kazakhstan, a reliable ally in a volatile region, fuels the regime’s sense of impunity. The image-conscious government has hired global lobbying firms to fine-tune an astute public relations strategy that counteracts criticism by spinning an alternative narrative of a ‘young’ country finding its feet on the path to democracy.110 Instead of acting to improve its record on political and civil liberties, the government focuses on denial, distraction techniques and counter-narratives.
Political freedoms
Kazakhstan is a democracy in name only: elections are micromanaged plebiscites designed to put a democratic gloss on proceedings conducted to legitimize the regime’s political choices and perpetuate its existence. The presidential election in June 2019 was conducted according to the same formula, albeit with greater efforts at legitimization through the inclusion for the first time in 14 years of a candidate – Amirzhan Kosanov – with a track record of opposition politics.111 The regime’s candidate, Kassym-Jomart Tokayev, was duly elected with 71 per cent of the vote.
During his rule, Nazarbayev increased his vote share to eye-popping levels: 98 per cent in 2015. Organized political opposition was all but eradicated: banned by the courts; withered into insignificance through regime pressure and party infighting; usurped by pro-government forces.112 Parliamentary elections became toothless affairs fought out among government-friendly parties shunning political debate. The presence of opposition parties in parliament dwindled to zero after 2007, when the election produced a one-party legislature containing only the ruling Nur Otan. The 2012 and 2016 elections delivered small numbers of seats to two pro-regime movements (Ak Zhol and the Communist People’s Party of Kazakhstan), present as democratic window-dressing for the pliant legislature. The next election – due in 2021, although an earlier vote is not ruled out – may deliver a more pluralistic parliament as part of the political transition strategy. However, if the regime micromanages the formation of parties and controls their activity, the political process will remain top-down and undemocratic, and will fail to deliver the parliamentary plurality that Kazakhstan needs in the post-Nazarbayev landscape.113
Observers from the Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe (OSCE) have never deemed an election in Kazakhstan free and fair. Tokayev brushed off the OSCE’s findings that the June 2019 presidential election displayed ‘a lack of regard for fundamental rights’ and ‘scant respect for democratic standards’.114 He later argued in a US media op-ed article that ‘the peaceful transfer of power and competitive elections’ showed ‘that democracy has taken root’ in Kazakhstan.115 This denial mode echoed the manner in which Nazarbayev has always batted away criticism by touting Potemkin political proceedings as proof of Kazakhstan’s democratic credentials. ‘We have open, free, alternative presidential elections; three political parties are present in our parliament; an opposition works in our country,’ Nazarbayev once said.116 The former president openly voices suspicions about Western-style democracy, which suggests that he has no intention of encouraging – or allowing – Kazakhstan to embrace it in his lifetime. In 2019, he spoke of his suspicion of ‘people who follow the West and want to build a democracy’.117
There are also restrictions on popular participation in local governance. City mayors and regional governors are presidential appointees. In smaller towns and villages, Nur Otan-dominated local councils elect mayors.118
The ruling elite’s monopolization of the political process and the reduction of the role of citizens to rubber-stamping the regime’s choices violate the right to free participation in government, public affairs and free elections, as enshrined in the UDHR (Article 21), the ICCPR (Article 25), and Kazakhstan’s constitution (Article 3) and electoral law (Articles 1, 3, 8). The government falls short of commitments in the OSCE Copenhagen Document ‘to hold genuinely democratic elections in the broader context of respect for human rights that are free, fair, transparent, and accountable through the rule of law’.119
In 2017, Nazarbayev devolved powers from the presidency to the government and parliament to prepare the political system for his departure.120 However, to become effective, these on-paper reforms must be backed up with real-world changes, including the election of a pluralistic parliament that will use its powers to hold government to account. Tokayev recognizes this: he used his first state-of-the-nation address to voice the slogan ‘a strong president – an influential parliament – an accountable government’, which he acknowledged is ‘not a fait accompli, but a goal towards which we must move at an accelerated pace’.121 He also pledged a ‘political transformation’, albeit a gradual one, because ‘successful economic reforms are no longer possible without the modernization of the country’s socio-political life’. He cited developing a multi-party system, political competition and pluralism of opinion as aims that will serve the long-term stability of the system. Clearly, decision-makers recognize the need for reform, but there is a risk that cautious top-down measures may fail to respond adequately to citizens’ demands for accountability and participation during this transition period. There are signs of a slight expansion of the space for independent political activity: the campaign for democratic reform conducted by the Oyan, Qazaqstan (‘Wake Up, Kazakhstan’) movement, formed in April 2019, has proceeded broadly unimpeded, though its activists have reported surveillance and harassment and have been detained when monitoring protests.122
The ruling elite may perceive democratic reform as against its personal interests. However, as public demands for a political voice grow, Kazakhstan’s leaders need to start accommodating them, or the protest mood will swell. Pluralistic politics could also generate fresh ideas for resolving political, economic and social challenges as Kazakhstan moves into the post-Nazarbayev future. Restrictions on political liberties inhibit political debate, which inhibits creative policymaking. When fresh ideas are not just frowned upon but ruled out, group-think prevails and policymaking stagnates.
Freedom of expression
Muzzled media
The press is saturated with pro-regime propaganda, although critical reporting is tolerated provided certain lines are not crossed
The media – once reasonably vibrant, albeit within the constraints of an authoritarian regime – has become a shadow of its former self. Independent outlets are frequently shut down. The press is saturated with pro-regime propaganda, although critical reporting is tolerated provided certain lines are not crossed, and citizens have access to some independent domestic and international news sources as well as social media. Outspoken reporters and media outlets are targeted with spurious criminal cases, and sometimes with violence and intimidation. Kazakhstan ranks among the world’s worst countries for press freedom: 158th out of 180, according to Reporters Without Borders.123 The government rejects such rankings as ‘subjective’.124
After Kazakhstan gained independence in 1991, private media mushroomed and the country experienced a brief period of plurality of the press. However, by the mid-1990s outspoken publishers and reporters were under pressure,125 as rising political tension culminated with Nazarbayev dissolving parliament in 1995.126 The early 2000s witnessed a series of political challenges to Nazarbayev: the founding of a reform movement, Democratic Choice of Kazakhstan (DVK); and revelations of an oil-contracts-for- kickbacks scandal, ‘Kazakhgate’.127 The regime and its associates responded to media reporting on this with a wave of intimidation. In 2002, the Respublika newspaper had a decapitated dog pinned to its wall and its offices firebombed.128 An investigative reporter, Sergey Duvanov, was beaten up and stabbed, then later jailed on rape charges; claims abounded that he was framed.129
The regime’s suspicions of independent media rose after ‘colour revolutions’ toppled authoritarian leaders in former Soviet republics in 2003–05, a fate that the region’s remaining autocrats did not wish to see repeated. Another watershed came in 2012, with bans on 36 news sources (including Respublika) for allegedly fomenting fatal unrest in western Kazakhstan through incendiary coverage. International expressions of concern fell on deaf ears.130 The authorities pursued Respublika-linked figures-in-exile through international courts after the publication of leaked government emails, and some figures employed dirty tricks that allegedly included infiltrating malware on to computers to spy on regime opponents.131 An ex-Respublika reporter was imprisoned on charges of publishing false information.132
The campaign against Respublika was part of a wider feud between the administration and its nemesis, Mukhtar Ablyazov, a France-based oligarch. Courts in Kazakhstan have convicted Ablyazov of a litany of crimes – from embezzlement to contracting a killing – which he denies, characterizing the convictions as politically motivated.133 The authorities rigorously pursue through the courts media outlets and social media commentators believed to be supportive of Ablyazov (who openly advocates regime change in Kazakhstan) or his DVK movement. The movement was labelled extremist and banned in Kazakhstan in 2018; the prohibition provides legal grounds for the prosecution of its supporters, who are frequently arrested and jailed or subjected to other legal sanctions.134 Dozens of people have been prosecuted in 2019.135
Outspoken media organizations with no conceivable connections to Ablyazov are also shuttered,136 and journalists jailed on spurious charges.137 Prohibiting reporters, civil society campaigners and trade unionists from pursuing professional activity is another tactic that the regime uses to muzzle critics.138
The transition has followed the pattern that prevailed during Nazarbayev’s rule, with media crackdowns accompanying periods of political tension. In March 2019, the authorities took the unusual step of prosecuting two journalists from an international news organization, Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty (RFE/RL). The pair – Saniya Toiken and Svetlana Glushkova – were arrested while covering protests, and convicted on charges they denied: failing to follow police orders (Toiken); and assault (Glushkova).139 Other incidents in 2019 have included reporters being arrested when covering protests,140 being obstructed by figures who appear to be agents provocateurs seeking to prevent filming,141 and being assaulted at a press conference.142 In July, press freedom watchdog ‘Adil soz’ expressed concern over an ‘escalation in violence towards journalists’.143 Generally, unlike in some other Central Asian states, the government issues accreditation to foreign journalists to report without restrictions. However, seven RFE/RL reporters were denied accreditation to cover the June presidential election.144
Restrictions on press freedoms and freedom of speech violate the right to freedom of expression and opinion enshrined in the UDHR (Article 19), the ICCPR (Article 19), and Kazakhstan’s constitution (Article 20) and media law (Article 2).145 The government denies infringing press freedoms. In 2018, Dauren Abayev, the information minister, gave Kazakhstan a score of 7–8 out of 10 for its performance,146 while acknowledging room for improvement.
Digital dissent
The government restricts digital civil liberties. It vigorously pursues ‘netizens’ if they express dissent that crosses certain boundaries. As Amnesty International concluded in 2017, the regime is using ‘increasingly elaborate and aggressive methods to stamp out dissenting voices on the internet and social media’.147 Amnesty further states that ‘[f]reely expressed opinions are becoming incriminating evidence in the courts’.148 One 2018 study documented 30 cases over a six-month period of people targeted with legal measures for posting criticism on social media. Most had expressed support for Ablyazov or DVK, a red flag for the authorities.149
Social media debate is vibrant, however, and the authorities tolerate online dissent within certain limits. However, where criticism of the regime exceeds this tolerance, they have powerful tools at their disposal, ranging from prosecuting and jailing social media users150 to blocking websites, messaging apps and networks.151 Prosecutors have powers to block and close websites and communications networks without court orders.152 Such blocking is widely employed,153 often in relation to extremist or pornographic content but also to prevent politically sensitive material from reaching the public eye. Officials cite the legal ban on DVK as grounds to disrupt internet access.154 During protests in 2019, tactics for disrupting communications included blocking websites, social media channels and messaging apps, and blocking 3G/4G cellular access around demonstrations.155 In 2019, the security service also piloted the use of security certificates allowing internet service providers to monitor encrypted connections, a measure critics believe can be abused as a surveillance tool.156 The authorities say these certificates may be applied in future in support of ‘national security’ interests.157
The fourth estate
The authorities have bolstered their armoury of legal weapons to control the press, creating a restrictive environment that makes it difficult for the media to fulfil its watchdog role. In 2004, legal amendments expanded powers to shut media outlets on vaguely defined national security grounds.158 In 2006, the government gained sweeping powers to deny registration of media organizations.159 In 2010, the making of insulting remarks about Nazarbayev became a crime, carrying a prison term.160 Libel is also a criminal offence.161 In 2015, ‘dissemination of knowingly false information’ became a crime, carrying a prison term of up to 10 years; reporters can be, and are, jailed for publishing unsubstantiated reports162 (as are members of the public for spreading rumours).163 The government has a monopoly on information during states of emergency, when news reports require approval prior to publication or broadcast.164 In 2018, reporters were required to obtain permission to publish banking and commercial data – giving the targets of corruption exposés carte blanche to veto publication of such data.165
The government views the media not as a watchdog but as a tool to shape public opinion in its favour. The amount spent on state subsidies for selected outlets to publish government-friendly coverage increased almost fivefold between 2005 and 2015; by 2018 annual subsidies had reached $140 million.166 This makes the press unhealthily dependent on the state, creating a conflict of interest with an independent media’s watchdog role. Government-friendly media have become tools in smear campaigns: to vilify peaceful protesters;167 cast aspersions on civil society groups promoting democratic values;168 and slur regime foes.169
A few independent outlets remain in precarious existence, operating in the narrow space tolerated for critical coverage. Self-censorship is rife, and the existence of no-go areas is a barrier to free speech and informed, robust public debate.
Freedom of assembly
Under Nazarbayev, the authorities gradually adopted a zero-tolerance policy towards peaceful public protest
Under Nazarbayev, the authorities gradually adopted a zero-tolerance policy towards peaceful public protest, viewing it not as a manifestation of legitimate dissent but as a sign of disloyalty (even treason), and a harbinger of revolution and chaos.170 Since Nazarbayev’s resignation, thousands of peaceful protesters have been detained, including – by Tokayev’s admission171 – people innocently walking past demonstrations.172 Tokayev has signalled a willingness to ease restrictions on freedom of assembly. In June, the authorities allowed the first legal opposition rallies for nine years, suggesting that – under pressure – they may tolerate some demonstrations, provided these have no Ablyazov connection and obey official strictures on the right to free assembly.173
The legal tool wielded to justify suppression of the right to peaceful protest is the law governing public assembly, which requires organizers to obtain permission from local authorities. Any gathering held without permission – rarely granted, at least until the summer of 2019 – becomes a priori illegal, making anyone present liable to arrest. The penalty is a fine or custodial sentence of up to 15 days. Sometimes more serious charges are brought, carrying long jail terms. The regime has gone to extreme lengths to chase down dissenters: arresting those staging peaceful one-person protests;174 detaining a person for holding a blank piece of paper;175 and pre-emptively arresting people identified as possibly planning to protest.176
Restrictions on freedom of peaceful assembly violate rights enshrined in the UDHR (Article 20), the ICCPR (Article 21) and Kazakhstan’s constitution (Article 32). The detention of peaceful protesters and passers-by violates the right to liberty and protection against arbitrary detention enshrined in the UDHR (Article 20), the ICCPR (Articles 9) and Kazakhstan’s constitution (Article 16).
The government denies breaching the right to peaceful assembly: in 2016, it reported to the UN that ‘the regulation for peaceful assemblies allowed citizens to take part in public gatherings without any impediment’.177 One month earlier, more than 1,000 people had been arrested at rallies against land reforms.
In 2015, Kazakhstan invited Maina Kiai, a UN rapporteur, to study its adherence to the rights to freedom of assembly and association – this was to the government’s credit, given that the findings were unlikely to be favourable. Kiai reported that the hyper-restrictive attitude to public assembly – treated ‘as a privilege or a favour rather than a right’ – effectively ‘renders that right meaningless’. He went on: ‘A web of policy, practice and perception contributes to a general environment where engaging in political activities is difficult, discouraging and sometimes dangerous. Dissent may be criminalized and critical political expression is often portrayed as threatening the stability of the State.’178
Box 2: Torture in Kazakhstan
In 2013, Amnesty International deemed torture in places of detention in Kazakhstan ‘entrenched’.179 The government says it pursues a ‘zero-tolerance approach to the use of torture, cruel treatment and violence’, which is prohibited under the UDHR (Article 5), the ICCPR (Article 7) and Kazakhstan’s constitution (Article 17). It is taking measures to eradicate torture: in 2013, a National Preventive Mechanism against Torture was created; in 2015 it became a legal obligation to investigate torture claims as criminal offences; in 2016, the UN’s torture-prevention body paid its first visit to Kazakhstan.180
There are periodic prosecutions over the use of torture, usually in high-profile cases: in 2013, five prison officers were jailed over the death of a man crucified on a wall;181 in 2016, a guard was jailed over a gang rape.182 In 2019, Tokayev ordered an investigation after leaked video footage showed prison guards brutally torturing inmates.183 Often, however, torture claims are dismissed as groundless, as in the case of the Zhanaozen detainees or jailed businessman Iskander Yerimbetov (discussed below). The UN Committee Against Torture has highlighted serious concerns; fewer than 2 per cent of torture complaints in Kazakhstan lead to prosecution.184
Zhanaozen unrest
One of the most notorious examples of state repression, emblematic of Kazakhstan’s authoritarian system and intolerance of public assembly, occurred in the town of Zhanaozen on 16 December 2011, when security forces shot at least 15 civilians dead while quelling unrest among oil workers dismissed for striking. The government assumed some responsibility for the deaths, acknowledging that it had mishandled the strike and botched the suppression of the unrest. Nazarbayev dismissed his son-in-law, Timur Kulibayev, from his position carrying responsibility for the oil sector. Jobs were created for the dismissed strikers.185 Yet the authorities also placed the blame squarely on them, alleging a plot to overthrow Nazarbayev, bankrolled by Ablyazov and fomented by opposition leader Vladimir Kozlov, who was jailed in a trial which handed two other activists suspended sentences.186 Five police officers were imprisoned over the shootings,187 but no senior officers were tried and it was never revealed who had ordered the use of live ammunition. The head of a detention centre was jailed over the death of a man tortured in custody, but it was never discovered who had inflicted the injuries.188 Forty-five townspeople were convicted over the violence,189 some receiving lengthy prison terms. Domestic investigators rejected allegations that those convicted had been tortured,190 and the government rebuffed a call from the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights for an international investigation.191 In 2013 Amnesty International noted the lack of accountability, remarking that ‘the security forces in Kazakhstan still enjoy impunity for human rights violations’.192
Box 3: The decline of labour rights in Kazakhstan
During the Zhanaozen strike in 2011, ‘fundamental rights, including freedom of association, collective bargaining and expression, and the right to strike’ were violated, Human Rights Watch found.193 Afterwards, the government cracked down on independent trade unionism and placed new restrictions on the right to strike. In 2005, Kazakhstan had vibrant trade unions;194 now the government has corralled them into state-backed confederations, driving independent groups out of existence.195 Independent unionists have been jailed on spurious charges or banned from union activity. In 2017, the International Trade Union Confederation criticized Kazakhstan for ‘trade union rights violations’ and ‘repression’,196 while the International Labour Organization (ILO) urged implementation of its standards.197 In 2019, the ILO noted ‘serious concern’ about ‘allegations of acts of anti-union violence’ and ‘persistent lack of progress’ on labour rights. Restrictions on trade union activity and freedom of association violate rights enshrined in the UDHR (Articles 20, 23), the ICCPR (Article 22), and Kazakhstan’s constitution (Article 23) and trade union law (Articles 4, 7).198
Land protests
In 2016, protests against land reforms revealed continued intolerance of the right to peaceful protest. When a belated moratorium on the reforms, to allow public debate on changes to the law that had already been adopted, failed to defuse the protests, the government resorted to repressive measures: 40 activists were jailed pre-emptively, while a smear campaign dubbed protesters ‘traitors’.199 On one day of protests, more than 1,000 people were detained, campaigners estimated (no official figures were published).200 Most were released without charge; some were fined; some jailed for short periods. However, others faced serious charges.
In 2019, the political transition became the catalyst for protests, with demonstrators voicing grievances over the top-down nature of political decision-making, allegedly rigged elections, the renaming of the capital ‘Nur-Sultan’, and socio-economic problems
The rationale of the subsequent trials echoed that of the government’s response to the Zhanaozen unrest: the protests were not expressions of public discontent but a bid to topple Nazarbayev, in this case allegedly hatched by a businessman, Tokhtar Tuleshov, who was jailed for 21 years.201 Two civil society campaigners, Maks Bokayev and Talgat Ayan, were jailed on charges of incitement and seeking to overthrow the state, despite vocal international protestations.202 Ayan was released on parole in 2018;203 Bokayev remained in prison as of early November 2019. The land reforms that had sparked the protests were shelved.
Protests during the political transition
In 2019, the political transition became the catalyst for protests, with demonstrators voicing grievances over the top-down nature of political decision-making, allegedly rigged elections, the renaming of the capital ‘Nur-Sultan’, and socio-economic problems (which the government has in part moved to address). Heavy-handed, at times absurd, crackdowns ensued, such as the jailing for 15 days of two activists for displaying a banner calling for a fair presidential election.204
The authorities heavily suppressed small demonstrations (ranging in size from a handful of people to several hundred protesters) called by Ablyazov between March and October. In June, 4,000 people – including, by Tokayev’s admission, passers-by205 – were detained over four days of election-related protests, prompting an expression of concern from Ryszard Komenda of the UN Human Rights Office for Central Asia.206 Hundreds more demonstrators were arrested at protests before and after the election-related rallies: in March,207 May,208 July,209 September210 and October.211 Some were jailed for short periods; some fined; some released without charge. In November, four people allegedly involved in a DVK-organized protest were convicted on charges of membership of a banned organization and sentenced to terms of ‘restricted freedom’, with bans on carrying out public activity.212 Two of the women on trial had already spent months in pre-trial detention despite having dependent children.213
Nevertheless, 2019 has also seen a limited retreat from rigid intolerance of peaceful assembly. Tokayev used his state-of-the-nation address in September to pledge to permit peaceful protests,214 and has promised to liberalize freedom-of-assembly legislation.215 As mentioned, in June the government relaxed restrictions on opposition rallies;216 in August217 and November,218 marches organized by Oyan, Qazaqstan calling for constitutional reforms proceeded without arrests although they did not have official permission.
Yet despite Tokayev’s promise, arrests of peaceful protesters continued in the autumn. Some 100 people were detained at protests called by Ablyazov against Chinese economic expansion on 21 September; nine were jailed for short periods.219 Directly ahead of that protest, 36 activists who had participated in earlier anti-China rallies were prosecuted; 29 were jailed for up to 15 days.220 In October there were more pre-emptive detentions before another rally called by Ablyazov, and more arrests at the protest itself.221
Tokayev continues to signal that there is room for liberalization as the authorities seek to defuse the protest mood. They will undoubtedly differentiate between Ablyazov- instigated rallies (which will be dispersed with arrests) and other protests (which may be permitted, with restrictions). Liberalization would, in fact, be beneficial for the government. Denying the existence of disaffection makes it impossible for the powers-that-be to grasp the nature and extent of public grievances; permitting protests is a step towards dialogue that would allow the regime to recognize and tackle grievances instead. As Komenda remarked, free speech and free assembly ‘are the building blocks of successful and vibrant societies’; unnecessary restrictions ‘constitute risks for stability and social cohesion’.222
Freedom of association
Civil society was relatively vibrant until the early 2000s: there were no strict limitations on non-governmental organizations (NGOs), which functioned from 2000 under a progressive tax-free status. Official suspicion of civil society grew in 2003–05, when authoritarian post-Soviet states (with Russia leading the way) began accusing Western-funded, democracy-promoting NGOs of fomenting ‘colour revolutions’.223 To its credit, Kazakhstan – unlike Russia – has not expelled foreign non-profits pursuing human rights advocacy. Yet as the notion that ‘colour revolutions’ presented an existential threat to authoritarian regimes became common currency, the government began casting a closer eye on groups promoting democracy, civil liberties and the rule of law.
The government’s top-down approach to cooperation with civil society has developed into what is sometimes described as an ‘astro-turf’ model – i.e. involving simulated grassroots participation
State-led attempts to control civil society intensified from 2004, when many independent NGOs were not invited to a new National Commission on Democracy and Civil Society.224 The government now employs a combination of financial incentives and pressure to coerce NGOs into line. The legal environment has become more restrictive since 2015, with charitable funding obliged to pass through a state-run body. This allows the authorities to cherry-pick which groups are approved for financing. Nazarbayev ignored an appeal from 60 charities to veto this law.225 In 2016, onerous regulations on the reporting of funding were imposed, greatly adding to the compliance burden on civil society.
The government promotes a top-down model of cooperation with civil society. This approach has developed into what is sometimes described as an ‘astro-turf’ model – i.e. involving simulated grassroots participation – in which GONGOs (government- organized NGOs) and super-GONGOs (affiliations of GONGOs) are incestuously intertwined with the government. Independent groups, especially those promoting pro-democracy agendas, are viewed with suspicion and face pressure in various forms, including unwarranted tax inspections and media smear campaigns.226 In July 2019, campaigners and journalists were assaulted at the Kazakhstan International Bureau of Human Rights and Rule of Law, a well-known NGO, under circumstances that aroused suspicions of official collusion.227
The authorities treat civil society more as a vassal to further government policy than as an independent actor.228 Under Nazarbayev, Kazakhstan retreated from any genuine commitment to developing a vibrant, grassroots-based civil society in favour of a model in which NGOs and other non-profits operate under not just government scrutiny but government control.
With Tokayev taking the reins, there is opportunity for change. He professes to see civil society as a problem-solving mechanism, and has promised that the state will be responsive to constructive demands.229 In July, he created the National Council of Public Trust to build a consensus based on ‘pluralism of opinion’.230 Although critical voices are represented, most of the new council’s members are government supporters, raising concerns about whether this will become an inclusive platform for genuine dialogue or a talking shop to create a veneer of discussion.231
Freedom of conscience
The government positions Kazakhstan as a model of religious tolerance with a strong commitment to freedom of religious association and conscience. However, restrictions on religious practices have mirrored the tendency for the state to expand its grip on all aspects of public life.
The government posits that it treads a fine line between upholding freedom of conscience and ensuring national security, as Islamist extremism presents a mounting threat. This is genuine: Kazakhstan has been hit by fatal militant attacks,232 and some citizens have taken up arms with jihadist groups in the Middle East.233 But anti-extremism measures imposing legal restrictions on religious practices are also used to target minority faiths (including non-Islamic congregations) that present no conceivable radical threat. This suggests that legislation is sometimes wielded as a tool to corral religion into state-sanctioned boundaries rather than to quash extremism. Undue restrictions on religious activity violate the right to freedom of conscience enshrined in the UDHR (Article 18), the ICCPR (Article 18), and Kazakhstan’s constitution (Article 22) and law on religious activity.234
In 2011, a new law on religious activity set stringent restrictions that have since caught hundreds of people in the dragnet;235 in 2018, 166 cases were prosecuted, with punishments including prison terms, fines and prohibitions on worshipping.236 Nazarbayev used to take pride in Kazakhstan welcoming 40 faiths and 4,500 congregations.237 By 2017, the authorities recognized only 18 faiths and 3,600 congregations.238 Kazakhstan has been on the US Commission on International Religious Freedom’s watchlist of countries ‘of particular concern’ since 2013.239
Some developments are more encouraging. The number of prosecutions under the religion law fell by 40 per cent in 2018,240 and in 2019 the government abandoned plans for new restrictions.241 Its programme to reintegrate militants from the Middle East242 was commended in 2019 by a UN rapporteur.243 However, the rapporteur also noted a number of concerns, including ‘the use of counter-terrorism and extremism law and practice to target, marginalize and criminalize the work of civil society’.
Political prisoners
According to the Tirek Alliance, a civil society project which publishes information about what it describes as ‘political persecution’, 16 people can be identified as ‘political prisoners’ as of late November 2019244 (see Appendix), with 90 people subject to persecution because of their professional activities or political convictions.245 These include rights activists, civil society campaigners, trade union leaders and journalists. Two men have been in prison for over a decade: Aron Atabek, imprisoned since 2006 over unrest in which a police officer died;246 and Mukhtar Dzhakishev, imprisoned since 2009 on corruption charges247 and refused parole in 2019.248 Also on the list are Maks Bokayev, imprisoned over the land protests of 2016; and Iskander Yerimbetov, an entrepreneur and the brother of one of Ablyazov’s lawyers. Yerimbetov was jailed in 2018249 on fraud charges condemned by 17 US senators as politically motivated.250 The authorities deny any abuse of the judicial system for political ends. In 2019, Tokayev provided amnesties to an investigative journalist and a trade union leader in whose cases political motivations were suspected,251 although their convictions were not quashed and the union leader was sent back to prison for failing to pay a fine.252
The government’s ‘100 concrete steps’ programme, which promotes institutional reforms, includes positive measures to increase judicial accountability
On occasion, justice appears to be selective. The failings of the justice system were evident in the trials over the 2006 assassination of opposition leader Altynbek Sarsenbayev. The second trial, in 2014, implicated Nazarbayev’s former son-in-law, Rakhat Aliyev, in the contracting of the killing,253 after the General-Prosecutor’s Office said it had belatedly found evidence of his responsibility.254 This followed his fall from political grace. The first trial, in 2006, when Aliyev was still in favour, had covered up his role and delivered a miscarriage of justice.255 Aliyev died in prison in Austria in 2015 while awaiting trial in relation to separate murder charges.256
The government’s ‘100 concrete steps’ programme, which promotes institutional reforms, includes positive measures to increase judicial accountability. Tokayev has promised to uphold the right to justice.257 However, genuine safeguards of judicial independence are not in place, and the judiciary does not act as a check and balance on other branches of power.
The power of spin
The government is intensely image-conscious, and has spent millions of dollars on contracts with leading international public relations companies to lobby in Western capitals and buff the prestige and credentials of Kazakhstan and Nazarbayev.258 Western firms have advised on mitigating negative coverage over human rights: from BGR Gabara’s offer (which the government declined) to run a sock-puppet campaign to counteract negative coverage of the Zhanaozen oil strike;259 to former UK prime minister Tony Blair’s tips to Nazarbayev on putting political spin on the Zhanaozen shootings.260
The regime’s public communications strategy involves shaping counter-narratives to dispel reports of rigged elections and rights abuses. Criticism is brushed off with the suggestion that Kazakhstan is a ‘young country’ that is learning the ropes of democracy and is a willing pupil.261 Flak is also deflected by focusing on Kazakhstan’s positive international diplomatic performance. In a number of respects, the country can justifiably hold itself up as a force for good: a responsible global player, a reliable Western security and energy ally in a volatile region, a bridge between East and West and the Muslim and Christian worlds, an anti-nuclear proliferation lobbyist, a model for multi-ethnic states. All these factors are true, but should not mask the reality of human rights abuses in Kazakhstan.
The muted tone of international criticism fuels the government’s sense of impunity over human rights and encourages a style-over-substance approach to improving its record
The muted tone of international criticism fuels the government’s sense of impunity over human rights and encourages a style-over-substance approach to improving its record. The contrast with Russia is striking – it is difficult to imagine Moscow gunning down oil workers without an international outcry occurring, but Western partners give Kazakhstan an easier ride. Instead of attracting censure over abuses, the government gains international plaudits for its achievements in other areas.262 Western partners favour ‘constructive engagement’ rather than public condemnation, which they believe – with some justification – is interpreted as patronizing and is counterproductive: it would alienate a cooperative ally and push Kazakhstan closer to illiberal partners such as Moscow and Beijing. Public censure is certainly unwelcome: when the visiting British prime minister, David Cameron, told reporters he had raised the issue of human rights in 2013,263 Nazarbayev sat ‘stone-faced’ and then responded sharply to a question about Kazakhstan’s record. Kazakhstan may look to some like a mediaeval country where people ‘ride around on camels instead of in cars’, Nazarbayev snapped, but ‘as far as human rights and freedoms are concerned, I believe Kazakhstan assures fundamental rights’.264
The risk of muting criticism is that the embattled human rights community in Kazakhstan feels cast adrift, questioning Western credibility since the West appears unwilling to defend its own values publicly. This encourages a belief that Western countries are turning a blind eye to abuses for geopolitical or commercial gains. It fosters public cynicism about Western intentions in Central Asia, which the Kremlin in turn is eager to stoke for its own ends.
Since constructive engagement, as currently construed, has not yielded perceptible improvements in the country’s human rights record, campaigners would prefer that international policymakers make outcomes that Kazakhstan’s government desires conditional on tangible improvements. Human Rights Watch condemned ‘a squandered opportunity’ in 2015, when the EU signed an Enhanced Partnership and Cooperation Agreement with Kazakhstan without securing reform commitments.265
Reform incentives
The suppression of political and civil liberties reveals deep-seated insecurities inside the regime. On the one hand, the authorities nurture the impression that there remains rock-solid public support for Nazarbayev, now presented as the guarantor of stability during the leadership transition. On the other hand, the authorities seem so insecure that they clamp down on trifling manifestations of dissent. Since they are reluctant to acknowledge popular disillusionment – however insignificant – with their rule, they seek scapegoats when dissent emerges from the shadows. Without profound changes to this mentality, the government will remain unable to deal with expressions of dissent without riding roughshod over civil liberties.
The transition offers an opportunity to effect changes in policy and practice. There are several reasons why it is in the ruling elite’s interests to reform, and to uphold its commitments to political and civil liberties.
Firstly, as neighbouring Uzbekistan’s transition experience has demonstrated, a country can boost its economic competitiveness and attractiveness to investment through improvements to its human rights record. Uzbekistan has garnered positive international media coverage with its political thaw,266 while Kazakhstan has reaped a slew of negative headlines during its transition because of the arrests of thousands of peaceful protesters.267 For Kazakhstan’s government, reform and liberalization can serve economic goals as well as political ones by generating positive media coverage that makes the country more attractive to investors, who may otherwise be wary of the reputational risks associated with doing business there.
Secondly, decision-makers would benefit from loosening controls on political freedoms and freedom of expression, because intolerance of alternative views hampers the development of accountable governance and rational policymaking. Under Nazarbayev, the social contract broadly endured in the sense that citizens tolerated restrictions on political and civil liberties in exchange for oil-fuelled economic growth and improvements in social well-being. Kazakhstan’s oil boom is long since over, however, and it faces enormous hurdles to meet growth targets and deliver prosperity in a challenging geopolitical and economic environment. To overcome these hurdles, Kazakhstan needs to inject dynamism into policymaking and elicit input from voices that have hitherto been excluded.
Thirdly, reform and liberalization can boost social stability. To a government that views dissent as a threat to stability, this is perhaps counter-intuitive. In 2019, citizens have braved arrest to protest for political freedoms and the right to free assembly. They are testing the boundaries of restrictions on political and civil liberties, finding these wanting, and refusing to respect them any longer. If the administration does not respond with dialogue and reform, it risks deepening the rift between the ruling classes and the public. Protests so far in 2019 have exposed profound problems with the rigid, top-down approach to governance, revealing alarming disconnects between the government and the governed. The lack of dialogue between the powers-that-be and grassroots actors has several causes: (1) the authorities have a patrician ruling style that precludes genuine consultation; (2) opposition parties do not exist to channel political debate; (3) the government supports GONGOs instead of independent civil society groups that could facilitate dialogue; and (4) little in the way of free media exists to air alternative opinions.
Rampant violations of political and civil liberties ring alarm bells for the future: if the government continues suppressing dissent, popular rancour will continue to boil over. At a time of political upheaval, if dissent is not tackled through dialogue rather than repression, the consequences will be unpredictable, and potentially detrimental to Kazakhstan.
UN rapporteur Maina Kiai eloquently encapsulated this in 2015:
Although it may seem paradoxical, the true measure of a country’s stability is its tolerance of peaceful questioning of the established order, that is, allowing outlets for peaceful dissent and political pluralism. Failure to create such outlets does not make the dissent go away; it only bottles it up in such a way that it may fester and explode as something much more violent than a street protest or reports of non-governmental organizations criticizing government policy.268
It is to be hoped that, to mitigate this risk, Tokayev and his administration will take genuine measures to uphold political and civil liberties, and make reality on the ground in Kazakhstan match his lofty rhetoric about a reforming state that is ready to engage in constructive dialogue with its citizens.