\"Assessing Russia\'s Normative Agenda in Central Asia,\" Bishkek Project, March 2017

Assessing Russia’s Normative Agenda in Central Asia Marlene Laruelle March 2017 https://www.bishkekproject.com/memos/16

Analysts often describe a kind of anti-Western and anti-liberal Zeitgeist spreading in Central Asia that they interpret as evidence of the region’s “still” being part of Russia’s “sphere of influence.” Should we take this to mean that Russia wields normative power over Central Asia? According to Ian Manners’s definition (elaborated in the context of the European Union), those actors that have the ability to “shape what can be ‘normal’ in international life” exercise normative power.[1] Is Russia shaping what is seen as “normal” in the Central Asian states and societies? Here I will use an older frame proposed by Johan Galtung that distinguishes three kinds of power: ideological, remunerative, and punitive.[2] Russia displays all three of these in Central Asia. It commands a strong remunerative power, especially for the poorest states such as Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan, put in the position of clients of Russia through the latter’s investment policy and debt forgiveness as well as exchanges in kind (technical repairs of Soviet-era civilian and military infrastructure, training of local personnel, fellowships, etc.). Russia also has an indirect remunerative power through remittances sent back home by about five million Central Asian migrants; remittances accounted for about half of Tajik GDP and one-third of Kyrgyz GDP before the economic slowdown of 2014 and for about a quarter of them in 2015. Even if the current economic crisis has decreased this Russian leverage, it still remains proportionally high given the general recession in Central Asia itself and the devaluation of national currencies that followed the ruble devaluation. This remunerative power is challenged by China’s more substantial power—the China-sponsored “One Belt, One Road” continental development project plans “Silk Road” investments worth 40 billion dollars —but Russia has at its disposal two other kinds of power to compensate for the diminishing remunerative one. Russia is the only country that is capable of wielding punitive power in the region. This punitive power is only potential but it has symbolic weight: Moscow could challenge the state sovereignty acquired in 1991 and its military capacity could defeat any Central Asian army, at least in a classic conflict. This direct punitive power has not been used in Central Asia the way it has been in Ukraine since 2014, or in the more complicated framework of the “frozen conflicts” in South Ossetia, Abkhazia, and Transnistria, where the local actors and their own grievances offered fertile ground for Moscow to capitalize on. But Russia can also exercise its punitive power less straightforwardly, as retaliatory power—for instance, by halting bilateral cooperation (after an incident on the Turkmen gas pipeline in 2009, Gazprom almost entirely stopped its gas purchases from Ashgabat) or threatening to do so (to induce Kyrgyz authorities to put an end to the U.S. transit center at Manas). Russia’s attraction for a Central Asian workforce constitutes yet another form of retaliatory power with respect to Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan, and potentially even to

Uzbekistan. The Russian authorities for instance regularly threaten countries outside the Eurasian Economic Union that they could lose their right to send migrants to Russia without proper Russian visas. Russia’s ideological influence is probably one of its most powerful assets and the one that most profoundly shapes Central Asia’s social fabric, although at very different levels for each of the five societies. But it is also the power that is least state-sponsored and state-controlled on Russia’s side. This leverage is based on complex social mechanisms and historical patterns that the Russian presidential administration cannot entirely control the way it wields remunerative and punitive powers. It is in the ideological framework that I discuss the normative power of Russia over Central Asia. The set of norms promoted by the Russian state can be defined schematically as follows:

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Sovereignty is the supreme value shaping international relations; The state is the recipient of the nation’s continuity over time, and of its “essence” in terms of values, and therefore cannot be challenged domestically without putting at risk the very stability of the society; The Eurasian space is a specific civilizational world whose autonomy should be protected and in which Russia plays a pivotal role; Russia values the “classical,” “historical” West and considers itself to be a legitimate part of it, but it repudiates the “post-modern” West, perceived as decadent and denying its own essence.

This paper first addresses the issue of the normative capability of Russia-led institutions such as the Eurasian Economic Union (EEU) and the Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO) to effectively impact Central Asia’s “normativity.” It then discusses Russia’s normative soft power in the region by looking at the institutions working under the umbrella of Eurasian regional integration or the “Russian World” concept, or those related to the promotion of so-called conservative values. It then discusses the difficulties of assessing Russian media influence as a shaper of Central Asian perspectives on the world. The Normative Capability of Russia-led Institutions Russia remains the main regional institution-builder in Central Asia. However, it has failed in many of its attempts: the large majority of treaties, acts, and agreements signed in the framework of the Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS) have remained on paper, with none of the countries involved—including Russia—interpreting the CIS framework as binding. The CIS operates on the basis of consensus and the lowest common denominator, which greatly limits its effectiveness. In that respect, the Commonwealth has indeed served, as the formula assumed, as a “civilized divorce” between the former Soviet republics, with little impact on the new agendas of its member states.[3] The five Central Asian states joined it following the Alma-Ata

agreement of December 21, 1991, but Turkmenistan never ratified the CIS charter and since 2005 has been granted associate observer status. Despite the CIS’s light footprint on the region, one of its key treaties has been well implemented on the ground, with all the signatories remaining faithful to it: the 1992 Tashkent treaty that guarantees visa-free movement of population among member states. Even today, 25 years after the collapse of the Soviet Union, the post-Soviet space, with some exceptions—the Baltic states having joined the European Union (EU), Georgia and Turkmenistan not being members of the CIS, and Uzbekistan’s zigzagging visa policy toward Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan in the early 2000s—remains truly an open space for citizens to travel, with huge social and cultural implications.[4] Furthermore, two CIS institutions have some influence over the region, including for states such as Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan that are “reluctant vis-à-vis Russia”. The CIS Anti-Terrorism Center (ATC), based in Moscow and managed by the Russian FSB (the successor agency of the KGB), still plays a critical role in training post-Soviet security services. The CIS Council of Border Guard Agency Commanders, in charge of protecting external borders—read borders of the former Soviet Union—is the main driver and embodiment of Russia’s structural military influence in Central Asia. It has assisted all the national border guard agencies with training, including Turkmenistan’s and Uzbekistan’s, at least until the mid-2000s.[5] It tries to influence the legislative documents adopted on questions of border security (in order to obstruct NATO’s presence in the region), has its own network of information exchange, and finances its professional training programs in Russia as well as technical collaborations between services.[6] In the 1990s and 2000s, Russia also failed in developing more economy-oriented institutions such as the Eurasian Economic Community (EuRAsEC). It was only at the end of the decade of the 2000s, at a time when the Russian economy seemed at its peak of influence over Central Asia, that the Russian presidential administration, more confident of its soft power leverage and bolstered by new elites better initiated to current trends of globalization, understood that, to be efficient, it needed to target a smaller number of countries and stop letting the reluctant ones delay the building of regional integration. This led to a change of Moscow’s strategy toward Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan, which were “left alone” and less pressured, while the Kremlin refocused its attention toward its main partner and ally, Kazakhstan, and its two client states, Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan.[7] The Eurasian Union project was born of this strategic shift, symbolized by a speech Vladimir Putin gave in late 2011, before he “returned” to the presidency for a third mandate.[8] However, its effectiveness is still in question. The Eurasian Union per se—a political project of rebuilding regional integration with supranational institutions—has failed at two levels: first, it lost Ukraine, which Moscow saw as the grand prize; second, the move toward supranational institutions was halted by both Minsk and Astana, but also by the Russian administration itself, during the Ukrainian crisis.[9] As a result, the Eurasian Union as a political project will probably remain on paper, although it is embodied by the more modest Eurasian Economic Union (EEU), built on the Customs Union introduced a few years before. The EEU does impact the national economies of its member states (Russia, Belarus, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Armenia), by unifying customs taxes, developing some new regulations, and reorienting trade flows toward member states, thus

reducing trade with external actors such as European countries and China.[10] It has also impacted Kyrgyzstan’s economy by facilitating migration flows to Russia. However, the overlap between the EEU’s entry into function, the Ukrainian crisis, the ensuing sanctions and countersanctions, and the economic slowdown make the available data difficult to interpret, and one cannot correlate specific economic trends with EEU (in)efficiency per se. The Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO), which includes the same members as the EEU plus Tajikistan, is probably the best structured of the Russia-led regional institutions.[11] Institutionalized in 2002 on the basis of the 1992 Tashkent treaty, it holds regular meetings for the foreign ministers, defense ministers, and Security Council secretaries of the member states.[12] It makes provision for the sale of military equipment to member countries at Russian domestic market prices, which is of great interest to the Central Asian states. Equipment for border control (light artillery, night-vision devices, camouflage, radio devices, all-terrain vehicles, etc.) is highly prized. Since 2005, the CSTO has also revived cooperation between the Russian and Central Asian military industrial complexes through the Intergovernmental Committee for Military and Economic Cooperation (ICMEC).[13] The CSTO allows soldiers and officers from member states to be trained at Russia’s best military academies through generous fellowships. Last but not least, CSTO-proposed common military exercises are carried out annually in one of the member countries. They simulate terrorist attacks (Rubezh), antinarcotics operations (Kanal), and operations against arms trafficking (Arsenal), illegal immigration (Nelegal), and technological criminality (Proxi).[14] The Collective Rapid Deployment Force (CRDF) for Central Asia, a force of about 4,000 comprising Russian, Kazakh, and a small number of Kyrgyz and Tajik units based in Kyrgyzstan, is the only genuine regional brigade for rapid intervention. Many observers have noted that the CSTO, and especially the CRDF, have never been tested on the ground, so their effectiveness has yet to be demonstrated.[15] Be that as it may, in many other respects the CSTO is already functioning and shaping the national military policy of its member states. The majority of Russia-led regional organizations are essentially fora for discussion; the final documents adopted at their summits or meetings are usually declarations of intent, bereft of any mechanisms of implementation. But they play a role of socialization, defined in international relations as the transmission of rules and guidelines to states and their leaders concerning how they are supposed to behave in the international system. Russia-led institutions offer a framework for authoritarian regimes[16] to discuss and cooperate, and share some normative values; they validate the current political status quo and mimic international validation through institutions such as the CIS Election Monitoring Organization (CIS-EMO), which supports elections held in post-Soviet countries against critical assessments by the Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe (OSCE). Regularly decried, CIS structures have nevertheless made it possible to keep open channels for dialogue among the former Soviet states and their effectiveness most often plays out behind the scenes, where presidents are able to discuss, in an informal manner, the tensions between them. Several sources have confirmed, for example, that the Uzbek and Tajik presidents were often encouraged, under Russian pressure, to discuss issues behind the scenes at CIS summits.[17] Obviously, it is challenging to assess the “success” or “failure” of post-Soviet regional organizations. The majority of them have few if any clearly defined benchmarks that can be

monitored; their audits are rarely made public and are often carried out internally. Distortion effects, multiple causes, and corruption limit the effectiveness of institutions with an economic mission, since they have to operate in an environment of weak governance. What sorts of metrics or performance evaluations can measure their results? Two may be taken into consideration, namely the level of outputs (the extent to which the official mandates and specific goals have been reached) and the level of official and unofficial expectations of member states.[18] Did Russia fail in its goal of maintaining the post-Soviet world (less the Baltic states, which were immediately, in 1992, considered as “lost” for Russian regional supremacy) as a unified geopolitical space under Moscow’s leadership? The response can be a half-empty or half-full glass, depending on the definition of Russia’s genuine goals and the time frame. Today’s Russia can count on the support of only two middle-range powers, Kazakhstan and Belarus—and the latter seems increasingly reluctant to please Moscow—and three weak client states—Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, and Armenia, and even the loyalty to Russia of these five countries is conditional. Russia has also failed in not being able to avoid tensions or conflicts between other states of the region: several Russian projects related to water and electricity have been for instance hampered by the lack of regional cooperation displayed by Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan, without Moscow being able to influence that state of affairs. Yet, Russia has succeeded in remaining the main yardstick for the region on many strategic issues and cultural aspects, some 25 years after the Soviet collapse. The CSTO and the CIS AntiTerrorism Center and the Council of Border Guard Agency Commanders have at least partly fulfilled their official mandates. The more economy-oriented institutions have all failed except for the EEU, which has influenced growing trade flows, albeit without generating any new dynamism toward integration. However, it is probably on issues of normative soft power that Russia has been the most successful. Moscow’s Direct and Looser Public Diplomacy Russia’s normative soft power can be divided into different categories: some instances are initiated directly by the Russian state administration at a bilateral level; some others are inspired by regional institutions (under the umbrella of the CIS or the Eurasian Union); and a third, looser type emanates from Russia’s state-sponsored civil society, which can be defined in many aspects as an illiberal civil society. Dual citizenship and passportization One aspect of Russia’s direct public diplomacy in the region, probably one of the most difficult to assess, is its ability to extend Russian citizenship to many post-Soviet citizens. In the early 1990s, Moscow had hoped to establish mechanisms of dual citizenship with its neighbors, but few of them agreed (Turkmenistan only until 2003, Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan today). Accession to Russian citizenship for former Soviet citizens has been relatively liberal.[19] In the 1990s a special provision of law made it possible for all former Soviet citizens to apply for Russian citizenship with only a temporary or a permanent residence permit. This law was revoked in 2009; however, in 2014 came new, simpler and faster rules for granting citizenship to people who speak Russian and have at least one ancestor who was a permanent resident of Russia or the

Soviet Union. A new bill was introduced to create a simplified procedure for “Russian-speaking citizens of the former Soviet Union, irrespective of nationality, who face a threat of ethnocultural, political, or professional discrimination,” to acquire Russian citizenship.[20] Russia also replicated fast-track mechanisms, taken from Western models, to offer citizenship to investors, businessmen, highly qualified specialists, and now to those serving at least five years in the newly created Russian Foreign Legion.[21] Russia also has informal policies to deliver passports to the populations of secessionist regions. Ninety percent of South Ossetians are said to have Russian passports, along with smaller numbers of Abkhazians and Transnistrians, which allows Russia to claim a right to protect its citizens.[22] Hundreds of thousands of labor migrants from the former Soviet Union have also managed to get a Russian passport without surrendering the passport from their home country, giving Russia potential leverage over some of its neighbors. In Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan, the number of dual citizens seems to be high, even if statistical data is unknown. Eurasian and Russian World institutions Russia-sponsored regional institutions have several understudied “soft” bodies working under their umbrellas. Among the CIS bodies, two are worth mentioning: the CIS Election Monitoring Organization (CIS-EMO), which supports established regimes and counterbalances the OSCE’s (and other Western institutions’) narrative on the lack of good governance and transparent elections in the region;[23] and the CIS Inter-Parliamentary Assembly (IPA), which strengthens bilateral and multilateral partnerships between members of parliaments (MPs) in all member countries. Kazakhstan’s Majilis has direct institutional ties with the Russian State Duma, its Senate with the Federation Council, and direct, faction-to-faction meetings occur regularly at multiple levels. Many other institutions are linked to Eurasian institutions such as the Astanabased Eurasian Development Bank,[24] the Eurasian Economic Commission,[25] the Fund for the Development of Eurasian Cooperation,[26] and the Eurasian Women’s Forum.[27] Another set of institutions, separate from the Eurasian ones, are those related to the so-called Russian World (Russkii mir). The concept of the Russian World offers a particularly powerful repertoire; it is a geopolitical imagining, a fuzzy mental atlas on which different regions of the world and their different links to Russia can be articulated in a fluid way. This blurriness is integral to the concept and allows it to be reinterpreted within multiple contexts. First, it serves as a justification for what Russia considers its right to oversee the evolution of its neighbors, and sometimes for its interventionist policy. Second, its rationale is for Russia to reconnect with its pre-Soviet and Soviet past through reconciliation with Russian diasporas abroad. Lastly, it is a critical instrument for Russia to brand itself on the international scene and to advance its own voice in the world. The Russian World is thus in its essence a floating signifier developed by diverse actors around the Kremlin, one that speaks to different audiences and can take on specific flavors to be operationalized depending on the context.[28] In 2007, a presidential decree signed by Vladimir Putin established the Russian World Fund under the joint umbrella of Russia’s ministries of Foreign Affairs and of Education and Science. Through its foundation, the Russian World Fund maintains the ambiguity of focusing on compatriots (sootechestvenniki) and opening up to all those interested in supporting Russia in the

world. It works in close collaboration, and sometimes overlaps with, Rossotrudnichestvo—the Federal Agency for the Commonwealth of Independent States, Compatriots Living Abroad, and International Humanitarian Cooperation—which was established in 2008 from the Russian Center for International Scientific and Cultural Cooperation, Roszarubezhtsentr.[29] Rossotrudnichestvo’s core activities relate to the promotion of the Russian language and cultural, scientific, and educational exchanges. In cooperation with the Governmental Commission on Compatriots Living Abroad (GCCLA), it offers support to compatriots and works with a variety of associations, including the International Council of Russia’s Compatriots, the “Homeland” Association, the International Associations of Youth Compatriots, and the Moscow House of Compatriots.[30] Finally, Rosstrudnichestvo is involved to a lesser extent in Russia’s international aid programs, mostly directed at CIS countries, including the fledgling RusAid based on the USAID model.[31] As in the rest of the post-Soviet space, Russia has progressively put in place in Central Asia strategies to promote Russian culture and language through cultural centers at Russian embassies, commemorations of historical events, maintaining the graves of Russian soldiers fallen abroad, exchange programs, joint universities and joint curricula, and grants and fellowships for CIS students and professionals who want to study in Russia.[32] If one takes the example of Kazakhstan, one can notice that the Russian university model continues to shape the Kazakhstani one. Several Russian universities, including Moscow State University and leading Siberian provincial universities, have opened branch campuses in the country.[33] Russian universities host many Kazakhstani students—estimates vary between 20,000 and 26,000 depending on the source[34]—making Kazakhstani students one of the largest groups of foreign students in Russian universities. The majority of these students are probably ethnic Russians who want to study in their native tongue, have no interest in earning a Kazakhstani diploma, and/or have not mastered the Kazakh language—but there are no statistics confirming their ethnicity. Rossotrudnichestvo serves as an umbrella for all cultural activities related to the promotion of the Russian language and culture, including contests, festivals, and Olympiads,[35] and it offers grants and fellowships of all kinds. Several associations defending the Russian language and Russian-language instructors, such as the Kazakhstani Society of Teachers of Russian Language and Literature, the Kazakhstani Association of Teachers at Russian Schools, and the Kazakhstani Association of Alumni of Russian Higher Educations Institutions, function in the country and are recognized in bilateral relations as joint associations. The Russian Center for Science and Culture, which opened in Astana in 2004, works as the main cultural body for Russia in the capital city. Legislative copycats Russia’s normative agenda has also influenced Kazakhstan’s and Kyrgyzstan’s parliamentary discussions on their own versions of Russia’s anti-gay and anti-NGO laws.[36] Both governments submitted anti-gay bills; Kazakhstan’s did not pass, Kyrgyzstan’s did. Kazakhstan did pass a foreign agent law and laws restricting NGO activities and unsanctioned protests. Kyrgyzstan’s Parliament refused legislation against NGOs as foreign agents[37] or unsanctioned protests, but validated a law defending the religious feelings of believers against any kind of ‘offense’ or ‘blasphemy’. All these legislative efforts are explicitly based on Russian laws.[38] The Kyrgyz homosexual propaganda bill was widely seen as an effort to gain support among the

conservative electorate. In Kazakhstan, even if the bill did not pass, it appears that the interparty links between Nur Otan and United Russia inspired the copycat mechanism; a Kazakh MP noted “the geostrategic position of Kazakhstan” among other moral and cultural justifications for the nature of the bill and its timing.[39] Russian GONGOs Russian state institutions have generated a very vivid ecosystem of government-organized nongovernmental organizations (GONGOs) that constitute a genuine element of influence over Central Asia and push for Russia’s normative agenda. In order to wield influence in post-Soviet countries that have a more anti-Russian agenda and freer societies than the Central Asian states, Russia had to become innovative.[40] It supports Russian political parties where they are authorized, as they are in Latvia, launched the Legal Information Centre of Human Rights in Estonia, the International Council for Democratic Institutions and State Sovereignty in Transnistria, and the Caucasus Institute for Democracy and the Free Europe Foundation in South Ossetia.[41] In Central Asia, Russia felt less challenged because of a weaker and less structured nationalist atmosphere, and it did not have to invest so much in creating new tools of influence. Paradoxically, Moscow’s influence in Central Asia was preserved in part due to the lack of autonomy for local civil societies, the only exception being the more democratic Kyrgyzstan. Many Russian GONGOs in Central Asia advance an agenda of Eurasian regional integration. Examples include Eurasia Expert (Evraziia. Ekspert),[42] led by Viacheslav Sutyrin, director of the Center for Research on Integration Perspectives; the Workshop of Eurasian Ideas Fund;[43] and the Eurasian Heritage Foundation, established in 2004 by the aluminum oligarch Oleg Deripaska to promote expert, academic, and business cooperation. [44] Others advancing an agenda of connecting the Central Asian expert community with their Russian counterparts include the Alexander Gorchakov Public Diplomacy Foundation, created in 2008, and the Russian Council on International Affairs, another expert platform on international affairs, founded in 2010. Some other GONGOs are closer to the Russian World Fund, which embodies Russian “civil society”, while being financed mainly by the state. The different organizations working under its umbrella may apply for public funds through a grant process, but they are legally independent from the state, can raise money from other sources, and can display slightly differing positions. Examples include the International Fund of Slavic Literature and Culture, created during the perestroika years and supported by the Moscow Patriarchate; the Fund of Historical Perspective, created in 2004 by Natalia Narochnitskaya, now director of the Paris-based Institute for Democracy and Cooperation; the Likhachev Fund, which supports the historical and literary heritage of this major figure of twentieth-century Russian culture; the “Unity in the Name of Russia” Fund, created in 2003 and directed by Viacheslav Nikonov, which unites many prestigious academic institutions (including Moscow State University, Moscow State Legal Academy, and the Academy of Sciences Institute for Information in the Social Sciences-INION); and the St. Andrew the First-Called Foundation, created by Putin’s close associate Vladimir Yakunin and his spouse Natalia Yakunina.[45] The Fund also covers and finances the Institute of Russia Abroad, created in 2005 to manage several websites for compatriots, such as Russkie.org and Russkii vek, and to cooperate with the European Russian Alliance, a network of Russian

associations in European Union countries. The main event that the Russian World Fund organizes is the so-called Assembly of the Russian World, held on November 4, the day of National Unity, and attended by the highest-ranking state figures, including the president and many government officials.[46] A largely understudied aspect of the Russian normative agenda relates to the rise of so-called illiberalism around the theme of protecting “conservative” values. As in Russia, the Orthodox Church, under the jurisdiction of the Moscow Patriarchate but recognized in all of the five Central Asian countries and very loyal to the local authorities, has been promoting conservative values such as the traditional family, respect for national traditions, and the rejection of any proselytism or conversion processes.[47] Russian youth movements with a Eurasian integration agenda, such as the Eurasian Movement led by Yuri Kofner, have developed some modest activities in Kyrgyzstan and Kazakhstan, mostly among Russian-speaking youth. Formerly known as Eurasian Youth (Molodaia Evraziia), this group has disassociated itself from Aleksandr Dugin’s more aggressive style of neoEurasianism.[48] One may also mention Eurasian New Wave Media (Evraziitsy. Novaia volna), created in Kyrgyzstan in 2010.[49] More complex to assess is the rise of youth patriotic movements in Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan that offer an anti-Russian narrative in terms of identity and historical perceptions, but share Russia’s conservative values agenda and a strong anti-Western narrative. This is the case for the Almaty-based Bolashaq (Future) youth movement (not to be confused with the state-funded fellowship program of the same name). Its leader, Dauren Babamurat, has been working with rural youth and with ethnic Kazakh returnees to the country (Oralmans) since the mid-2000s, supplying books to rural libraries and screening films that promote national pride.[50] The Bolashaq movement is known for its strong opposition to Western values: in 2013 its members burned symbols of St. Valentine Day, seen as a decadent Western tradition forcing young girls into early sex, promoting instead a more national commemoration, that of the legendary Kazakh couple Bayan Sulu and Kozy Korpesh, to be celebrated on April 15.[51] A similar trend is noticeable in Kyrgyzstan, where nationalist movements such as Kyrk Choro (Forty Knights), or Kalys, led by Jenishbek Moldokmatov, oppose sexual minority rights “imposed” by the West[52] and develop anti-U.S. storylines driven by nationalist and/or Islamist points of view. Although Russian youth patriotic movements and Kazakh and Kyrgyz ones are opposed on many aspects, there have been some instances of contact. In May 2014, as tensions around the Donbas war peaked, the Kazakhstani authorities arrested the young nationalist oppositionist Zhanbolat Mamay and Russian “white power” nationalist Alexander Belov-Potkin, the Moscow-based former leader of the powerful Movement Against Illegal Immigration (DPNI), for inciting interethnic hate.[53] Belov-Potkin allegedly organized a training camp for young members of the Kazakh nationalist group Ult-Azattygy, including Mamay. The story surrounding Belov-Potkin and Mamay shares many features of the conspiracy theories and counter-messaging that shape the post-Soviet information space. The Kazakhstani authorities opened the case at a highly opportune moment, allowing them to kill two birds with one stone: they signaled Russia that they were taking the risk of destabilization seriously, and they neutralized the most visible Kazakh nationalist activists at a time of growing popular resentment against Kazakhstan’s entry into the Eurasian Economic Union. The allegation that Russian and Kazakh nationalists were working

hand-in-hand to destabilize Kazakhstan does not look very plausible, but the existence of some personal contacts has been confirmed by several anonymous sources. Russian Soft Power: The Media Strike Force Another critical element of Russian soft power relates to its media. Sociological surveys in former Soviet states show public opinion in three countries of Central Asia—Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and Tajikistan—largely sharing the same interpretations as public opinion in Russia. This parallel is less evident in Uzbekistan; yet, compared to many other post-Soviet countries, Uzbek public opinion can still be considered as closely aligned with the Russian one. We have almost no information for Turkmenistan. However, one does not know the extent of Russian media influence, which segments of public opinion it affects, which specific issues it focuses on, or how to interpret it. Paradoxically, very little research has been done on Central Asian mainstream media. The few studies we have were mostly carried out in the 1990s and were devoted to the issue of freedom of press or teaching journalism.[54] But we have almost no study of state-controlled media, which shape the majority of public opinion. Nonetheless, we have some good indirect data showing what can be interpreted as Russian media influence in the region. The Integration Barometer published every year by the Eurasian Development Bank shows, for example, that in 2014, during the Ukrainian crisis, the number of people in Kazakhstan supporting integration with Russia suddenly increased, indicating support for the Russian perception of the crisis, while in Kyrgyzstan it dropped noticeably, indicating a more polarized public opinion (see Table 1).[55]

Table 1. Percentage of People in Favor of Eurasian Integration (Eurasia Barometer)

Kazakhstan Kyrgyzstan Tajikistan Turkmenistan Uzbekistan

2012 80% 80% 76% n/a 67%

2013 73% 72% 75% 50% 77%

2014 84% 50% 68% n/a 68%

2015 80% 86% 72% n/a n/a

Source: eabr.org

We have other, more direct, data. In 2015, the U.S. Broadcasting Board of Governors (BBG) and the Gallup Organization published a series of surveys conducted throughout the whole postSoviet region. These surveys show unambiguously that in Kyrgyzstan, Kazakhstan, and

Tajikistan, the majority of the public considers the Russian media as highly reliable, significantly more so than Western media (see Table 3).[56]

Table 2: “Rating World Leaders: What People Worldwide Think of the United States, China, Russia, the European Union, and Germany” (Gallup)

Kazakhstan Kyrgyzstan Uzbekistan Tajikistan Turkmenistan

Ready to give Russia is the military most friendly support to country Russia 84% 57% 89% 36% 86% 35% 90% 47% 70% —

Ready to receive Prefer buying military and Russian political support products from Russia 69% 62% 83% — 65% 49% 79% 66% — 59%

Prefer Russian cultural products 62% 44% 50% 68% 64%

Table 3: “Which media source is reliable about Ukraine and Crimea?” (BBG and Gallup, 2015) Russian media

Western media

Georgia

42%

85%

Estonia

45%

36%

Moldova

58%

44%

Azerbaijan

64%

41%

Belarus

67%

21%

Kazakhstan

74%

26%

Uzbekistan

79%

37%

Russia

80%

10%

Kyrgyzstan

81%

32%

Tajikistan

85%

36%

Looking specifically at the Kazakhstani case, indeed Russian media dominate the national media landscape. They deeply influence Kazakhstani television space: the most popular television channel is First Channel–Eurasia, 20 percent of which is controlled by the government of Russia; the most popular show on TV, “Field of Dreams” (Pole chudes), is Russian; the most popular

miniseries are Russian; and almost half of the channels transmitted through cable networks are Russian. Russia also dominates the Kazakhstani Internet space (the most popular services are Russian) along with the Kazakhstani radio space (the two most popular radio stations, Radio Retro and Russian Radio, are Russian). Finally, it also dominates a large part of the Kazakhstani print press: Komsomols’kaia pravda, Delo no. 1, and Argumenty i fakty are widespread throughout the country. However, Russian media domination in Kazakhstan, once noticed, still leaves us with more questions than answers. I will briefly discuss several of them here. First, can one really dissociate a television versus an Internet framework, as has often been argued? The tendency is to distinguish television, which is state-controlled, from the Internet, viewed as free. But both display more or less the same views, with the Internet simply amplifying what is said on television, for better or worse. Obviously, on the Internet one can find non-mainstream narratives, which are not available on television; but both mediums are in fact still sharing more of their worldviews than we might assume. Second, to note that a majority of Central Asians read Russian newspapers or watch Russian TV is not to say that they accept everything coming from these media; they may exercise critical distance. However, we have no tools to try to measure this critical distance. Third, we often do not know exactly what content is coming from Russia, and what is “genuinely” Central Asian; sometimes the information available is so general that we do not know what is produced in Russia and what is produced in Central Asia in the Russian language. This is an important distinction, because in the latter case one would be able to identify media actors in Central Asia, and not only in Russia. Another point I want to raise is that we assume that what is published in national languages is less pro-Russian than what is produced in Russian, but we have only anecdotal evidence to demonstrate that. Another assumption pertains to the role played by labor migrants in spreading Russian perceptions. We have some information showing that households with migrants working in Russia are often more pro-Russian than the average. At the same time, we do not have studies discussing how migrants manage their fear of street xenophobia and discrimination in Russia while at the same time promoting Russian perceptions. Scholars have limited tools to capture Russian media influence. Shall we suppose that generations matter? Surveys are contradictory on that issue; some show that older generations have more in common with Russia than younger ones due to their shared Soviet past; others show that the younger you are, the more statistically likely you are to be pro-Russian. Shall we suppose that the dividing line between urban and rural populations, critical for the whole region, is also relevant for media influence? It remains difficult to demonstrate that urban populations are more pro-Russian than rural populations. Some surveys show us the contrary—that rural populations are more supportive of Russia, while urban populations, parts of which follow Western media, are more critical or distant. Another variable that I consider crucial is that Russian media influence should be dissociated topic by topic. Russian media have been most successful in shaping Central Asian public opinion on foreign policy and worldview, promoting notions that the liberal order is an illusion; everything is geopolitical; the United States has a hidden hand behind every major world event; history is made by civilizations; and that Russia offers at least a balance or possible alternative to the U.S./liberal order. This explains why Central Asian public opinion largely supported the Russian perception of the crisis in Ukraine, as

well anti-NGO and other “foreign agents” laws, which are framed by media in this “civilizational” language. However, Russian media have failed, partly or largely, to produce a narrative for domestic, Central Asian issues. When it comes to questions related to Central Asian history and Russia’s place within it, or national identity, Central Asian public opinions—even if they share many aspects of the current Soviet nostalgia—are much more critical than the Russian media would like them to be. The same goes for seeing Russian society and the Russian economy as a model for the future; here, too, success is more limited than the massive investment by Moscow in Russian media soft power was expected to achieve. In Guise of Conclusion: Whose Game, Which Norms? Russia is the only external actor that displays the three powers defined by Johan Galtung: remunerative, punitive, and ideological. Moscow has tried to avoid using punitive power, which is costly in terms of image and risky in terms of chances of success. So far, the Kremlin has used it only on countries over which it judged it had lost its channels of leverage, such as Georgia, Moldova, and Ukraine, but not on the Central Asian states. Remunerative power, the main carrot that Russia could use in the region during the happy decade of the 2000s, is now difficult to manage given the current economic slowdown. Ideological power could prove the most enduring, because it is not purely state-centric but is embedded in social and cultural interactions between Russian and Central Asian societies. This ideological power can be studied through the normative influence of Russia over Central Asian societies, which expresses itself at multiple levels: •

•

•

Institutionally, by consolidating the authoritarian status quo—from validating local elections and maintaining socializing mechanisms between leaders to shaping the definition of regime security as similar to state security; Diplomatically, by developing a sophisticated public diplomacy that offers to Central Asian elites and societies a large array of ideological and associative products that can adapt to their local context—from Eurasian integration to a Russian World and/or a conservative values agenda that can satisfy ethno-nationalists and the more Islamicoriented part of the population; Culturally, by sharing the media dynamics coming from Russia and extending them to Central Asia, although at different levels depending on the country and the constituencies.

Yet, the causality effect of Russian normative power remains difficult to demonstrate with scholarly rigor. Can we simply assert that the power-sender shapes the power-recipient? Sharing perceptions is not evidence of a unilateral Russian influence over Central Asia; the latter is not a passive and virgin territory over which the former projects power. Central Asian elites manipulate Russia-led institutions for their own interests, and they control media in the hope of shaping their public opinion. The same goes for soft or looser elements such as the conservative agenda, which cannot be analyzed purely and simply as a product of Russian influence. Sociological surveys conducted by the Almaty-based Strategy Center for Social and Political Research reveal that only 18 percent of respondents consider Western countries to be a good

model of development (13 percent for European countries, 5 percent for the United States); Russia collected 22 percent of preferences, probably mostly among Russians and Russia-oriented populations, while 43 percent of respondents opted for the notion that Kazakhstan should forge its own path.[57] Another survey from 2014 shows that only 17 percent of respondents believe that Western values are becoming more prevalent in society, while 69 percent agree that the culture of Kazakhstan should stay distinctive and resist outside influences and intrusions; one third suggest that further cultural developments should be based on Kazakh national customs, values, and traditions.[58] These few data give us some insight into a Central Asian public opinion that is not shaped by a Russian normative agenda, but whose points of view emerge from a local fertile soil. New research will be needed to analyze Central Asian opinion and study the potential resonance of the Russian narrative in local contexts.

Editor’s note: Marlene Laruelle is Research Professor and Associate Director at the Institute for European, Russian and Eurasian Studies (IERES) at George Washington University, Director of the Central Asia Program, and Co-Director of PONARS-Eurasia. She works on Russia and Central Asia and explores post-Soviet political, social and cultural changes through the prism of nationhood and nationalism.

Notes

[1] Ian Manners, “Normative Power Europe: A Contradiction in Terms?” Journal of Common Market Studies 40, no. 2 (2002): 235–58. [2] Johan Galtung, The European Community: A Superpower in the Making (London: Allen & Unwin, 1973), chapter 3. [3] J.P. Willerton, “Mistrust and Hegemony: Regional Institutional Design, the FSU–CIS, and Russia,” International Area Studies Review 18, no. 1 (2015): 26–52. [4] More in Marlene Laruelle, ed., Migration and Social Upheaval as the Face of Globalization in Central Asia (London: Brill, 2013). [5] More details in Sebastien Peyrouse, “Russia–Central Asia: Advances and Shortcomings of the Military Partnership,” in Stephen Blank, ed., Central Asian Security Trends: Views from Europe and Russia (Carlisle, PA: Strategic Studies Institute, U.S. Army War College, 2011), 1–34. [6] See its web site, http://www.skpw.ru/. [7] Alexander Cooley and Marlene Laruelle, “The Changing Logic of Russian Strategy in Central Asia: From Privileged Sphere to Divide and Rule?” PONARS Eurasia Policy Memo, No. 261, July 2013.

[8] The literature on the Eurasian Union project is immense. See, among others, Richard Sakwa and Piotr Dutkiewicz, eds., Eurasian Integration: The View from Within (London: Routledge, 2014); and “The Eurasian Project in Global Perspectives” (special issue), European Politics and Society 17, no. 1 (2016). [9] Nate Schenkkan, “Eurasian Disunion,” Foreign Affairs, December 26, 2014, https://goo.gl/J798Id [10] Eurasian Development Bank [11] Pavel Baev, “The CSTO: Military Dimensions of the Russian Reintegration Effort,” in S. Frederick Starr and Svante E. Cornell, eds., Putin’s Grand Strategy: The Eurasian Union and Its Discontents (Washington, DC: Silk Road Studies Institute, 2014), https://goo.gl/MAiV7w. [12] See its website at, http://www.dkb.gov.ru. [13] “ODKB voenno-tekhnicheskoe sotrudnichestvo” [CSTO Military-Techical Cooperation], https://goo.gl/Kq9P2g [14] Dmitry Gorenburg, “External Support for Central Asian Military and Security Forces,” Open Society Foundations Working Paper, January 2014, https://goo.gl/ak3Ghi [15] Aleksei Malashenko, “Russia and Osh,” Carnegie Moscow Center Comments, June 10, 2010, https://goo.gl/kIspCz [16] Roy Allison, “Virtual Regionalism, Regional Structures and Regime Security in Central Asia,” Central Asian Survey 27, no. 2 (2008): 185–202. [17] Anonymous interviews in Astana (May 2012) and Dushanbe (May 2012). More in Marlene Laruelle and Sebastien Peyrouse, “Regional Organisations in Central Asia: Patterns of Interaction, Dilemmas of Efficiency,” University of Central Asia’s Institute of Public Policy and Administration Working Paper, No. 10, 2012. [18] Johannes F. Linn and Oksana Pidufala, “Experience with Regional Economic Cooperation: Lessons for Central Asia,” Brookings Institution, Wolfensohn Center for Development Working Paper, No. 5, October 2008. [19] Oxana Shevel, “The Politics of Citizenship Policy in Post-Soviet Russia,” Post-Soviet Affairs 28, no. 1 (2012): 111–47. [20] “Dlia zhitelei SNG uprostiat protseduru polucheniia rossiiskogo grazhdanstva” [The Procedure for Receiving Russian Citizenship Is Simplified for Residents of the CIS], Interfax, February 24, 2014, https://goo.gl/Svtifl [21] Aleksandr Khrolenko, “Inostrannyi legion v Rossii” [Foreign Legion in Russia], RIA Novosti, January 1, 2015, https://goo.gl/aedatB [22] Kristopher Natoli, “Weaponizing Nationality: An Analysis of Russia’s Passport Policy in Georgia,” Boston University International Law Journal 28 (2010): 389–417, https://goo.gl/QRX9L1 [23] Nicu Popescu, “Russia’s Soft Power Ambitions,” Centre for European Policy Studies, CEPS Policy Brief, No. 115 (2006). [24] A Russia–Kazakhstan bilateral project, but whose member states are those of the Eurasian Economic Union plus Tajikistan. See https://goo.gl/NGIBPP [25] See https://goo.gl/slI40w

[26] See http://fondres.ru. [27] See http://eawf.ru/. [28] More in Marlene Laruelle, “The ‘Russian World’: Russia’s Soft Power and Geopolitical Imagination,” Center on Global Interests, May 2015. [29] More in Sinikukka Saari, “Russia’s Post–Orange Revolution Strategies to Increase Its Influence in the Former Soviet Republics: Public Diplomacy po russki,” Europe-Asia Studies 66, no. 1 (2014): 50-–66. [30] See https://goo.gl/RSDDfN. [31] Anna Brezhneva and Daria Ukhova, “Russian as a Humanitarian Aid Donor,” Oxfam Discussion Paper, July 2013, https://goo.gl/DOpVSW. [32] Michael Gorham, “Virtual Russophonia: Language Policy as ‘Soft Power’ in the New Media Age,” Digital Icons: Studies in Russian, Eurasian and Central European New Media, no. 5 (2011): 23–48. [33] The Almaty branch of Saint-Petersburg University of the Humanities and Social Sciences; Almaty branch of Academy of Labor and Social Relations; Kostanay branch of Chelyabinsk State University; Ust-Kamenogorsk branch of Moscow State University of Economics, Statistics, and Informatics; and Baikonur branch of Moscow Aviation Institute; Pavlodar branch of Tyumen State Oil and Gas University (closed in 2012); along with three private institutions: the Kazakhstani–Russian Medical University (Almaty); the Kazakh–Russian International University (Aktobe); and the Kazakhstani–Russian University (Astana, closed in 2014). I thank Marat Raikhmatov for providing me with this information. [34] Aidana Usupova, “Bolee 45,000 kazakhstanskikh studentov obuchaiut za rubezhom,” Tengrinews.kz, July 31, 2014, https://goo.gl/z0i5Np; “Rossiiskie VUZy uvelichat priem inostrannykj studentov,” Vedomosti, February 19, 2015, https://goo.gl/dSWySm. [35] See the website of Rossotrudnichestvo in Kazakhstan at http://kaz.rs.gov.ru/node/1. [36] On this topic, see Julian G. Walters, “Mimicking the Mad Printer: Isomorphism in Contemporary Post-Soviet Legislation,” forthcoming paper. [37] Bakyt Asanov, “Zakon ob ‘inostrannykh agentakh’ ne proshel,” Radio Azzatyk, May 16, 2016, https://goo.gl/MOLNtr. [38] The text is available in Kyrgyz on the website of the parliament, May 6, 2014, at https://goo.gl/xkObeF. [39] Joanna Lillis, “Kazakhstan: Polemika o pravakh geev nabiraet oboroty na fone vspleska gomofobnykh nastroenii,” Eurasianet, October 23, 2013, https://goo.gl/CBaB8f. [40] More in Orysia Lutsevych, “Agents of the Russian World Proxy Groups in the Contested Neighbourhood,” Chatham House Report, April 2016. [41] Jakov Hedenskog and Robert L. Larsson, Russian Leverage on the CIS and the Baltic States (Stockholm: FOI, Swedish Defence Research Agency, 2007). [42] See http://eurasia.expert/. [43] Seehttps://www.facebook.com/eurasianworkshop/.

[44] See http://www.fundeh.org. [45] See https://goo.gl/grdukJ [46] See http://russkiymir.ru/fund/assembly/. [47] Sebastien Peyrouse, “The Partnership Between Islam and Orthodox Christianity in Central Asia,” Religion, State & Society 36, no. 4 (2008): 393–405. [48] See http://eurasian-movement.ru. [49] See http:// www.enw-fond.ru. [50] Author’s interview with Dauren Babamuratov, Almaty, June 20, 2015. See also “Dauren Babamuratov, rukovoditel’ molodezhnogo dvizheniia Bolashaq” [Dauren Babamuratov, Leader of the Bolashaq Youth Movement], YouTube, November 5, 2014, www.youtube.com/watch?v=k07Z5HCVWjU. [51] Vitalii Kovalev, “V Kazakhstane Den’ Koza Korpesh i Bayan-Suly pochti nikto ne prazdnuet,” KTK, April 15, 2013, www.ktk.kz/ru/news/video/2013/4/15/22144. [52] “Kalys predlagaet po 100,000 somov za ‘poimku pedofila’,” Kloop.kg, April 28, 2015, https://goo.gl/zyWKFi. On Kyrgyzstan’s illiberal youth groups, see Gulgizhit Ermatov, “Understanding Illiberal Sentiments Among Youth in Kyrgyzstan,” Central Asia Fellowship Papers, No. 16, July 2016. [53] “V RK rassleduiut delo po faktu razzhiganiia mezhnatsional’noi rozni,” Zakon.kz, May 21, 2014, https://goo.gl/sGSBrI [54] Peter Rollberg and Marlene Laruelle, “The Media Landscape in Central Asia. Introduction,” Demokratizatsiya: The Journal of Post-Soviet Democratization 23, no.3 (2015): 227–32. [55] “EDB Integration Barometer 2015,” EDB Centre for Integration Studies, Report 33 (November 2015). Eurasian Development Bank, Astana. https://goo.gl/4DG3oR. [56] “Assessing Russia’s Influence in Its Periphery,” BBG Research Series, 2015,https://goo.gl/q9Bh4S. [57] Serik Beysembayev, “Tendentsii sotsial’no-demograficheskogo razvitiia kazakhstanskogo obshchestva (na baze sotsiologicheskikh issledovanii),” Tsentral’naia Aziia i Kavkaz 14, no. 2 (2011): 83–100. See also Molodezh Kazakhstana 2014 (Astana: Council for Youth Policy under the President of the Republic of Kazakhstan, 2014). [58] Institute of Eurasian Integration, Sovremennoe sostoianie i tendentsii vsekazakhstanskoi kultury, October 2014. See also, even if from 2009, Ideologicheskie ustanovski i osobennosti identifikatsii naseleniia RK, (Almaty: Strategiia, 2009).