The government of Tajik President Emomali Rahmon, seen here addressing the UN General Assembly in September 2010, is considering legislation that could affect NGOs accepting funding from foreign sources. Credit: UN/Rick Bajornas

By Konstantin Parshin
DUSHANBE, Dec 3 2014 (EurasiaNet)

It looks like Tajikistan is following a regional trend by drafting legislation that may sharply restrict the activities of foreign-funded non-governmental organisations. Activists say the bill threatens to hinder the operations of hundreds of organisations working on everything from human rights to public health.

The leaders of several prominent NGOs told EurasiaNet.org they were caught off guard when the bill was introduced earlier in November. They added that they were not involved in the drafting of the legislation, as had been customary for NGO-related bills, and have not been able to obtain details about the specific wording of the draft.“In reality, it implies that the government will be dictating to NGOs which projects they should implement.” -- Nargis Zokirova

The government has said nothing publicly yet about the bill, which comes as state agencies have increased unscheduled inspections and other bureaucratic measures concerning non-profits, the NGO leaders say.

Under current regulations, all NGOs operating in Tajikistan must regularly present detailed reports on their activities to the Justice Ministry, where they are obliged to register; they also must present financial statements to tax inspectors.

The draft law is believed to require local non-profit organisations to obtain the government’s approval before accepting funds from a foreign donor. For now, it is unclear from whom the local organisations would seek permission or who would appoint and manage that body.

“There are reasons to fear that it [the bill], in practice, would amount to a system of pre-authorization for the use of foreign funds that would involve direct government interference into the activities of NGOs, and could result in arbitrary delays and denials to register grants,” according to a forthcoming letter to the Tajik government that has already been signed by at least 70 organisations.

“If adopted, the draft legislation would further worsen the climate for NGOs, and is also likely to contribute to public mistrust and suspicion of foreign-funded NGOs by singling them out for a specific registration regime,” the letter added.

The public first heard about the draft legislation during a November 18 conference on freedom of speech in Tajikistan, during which NGO leaders noted a generally deteriorating climate for basic freedoms.

“In reality, it implies that the government will be dictating to NGOs which projects they should implement,” Nargis Zokirova, director of the Bureau on Human Rights and Rule of Law, told EurasiaNet.org. “Authorities demand maximum transparency from us. However, the draft law, which directly concerns our activities, was developed without the [input of] civil society organisations. None of us was aware of it.”

It is unclear why a government that frequently touts its commitment to battling corruption would create an additional layer of the kind of bureaucracy that can breed sleaze. Tajikistan already ranks 154 out of 177 countries on Transparency International’s most recent Corruption Perceptions Index.

Several activists said they feel Tajikistan’s authoritarian-minded government is simply following the regional trend of tightening regulations in order to silence critics. Many are pessimistic and expect the government will have the country’s rubberstamp parliament approve the bill before the end of the year.

“It is quite obvious that many domestic organisations will have to terminate their activities,” said Nuriddin Karshiboev, director of the National Association of Independent Media (NANSMIT).

Conditions for civil society organisations have deteriorated in all Central Asian countries over the last few years. Russian President Vladimir Putin established a precedent in 2012 by signing a law that requires local organisations receiving foreign funding to self-identify as “foreign agents” – Soviet-era slang for spies.

Legislators in neighbouring Kyrgyzstan are currently pushing an almost word-for-word copy of that 2012 law. If enacted in Kyrgyzstan, NGOs there would have to cope with burdensome reporting regulations.

“In countries where similar laws have been adopted – Azerbaijan, Belarus, Russia, Uzbekistan – the state authorities keep civil society under tough control and punish human rights activists,” said Karshiboev of NANSMIT.

Long-serving President Emomali Rahmon appears to have a strong grip on power in Dushanbe. Even so, authorities have moved steadily in recent years to limit the space for any form of dissent.

A court shut down the human rights watchdog organisation Amparo in the northern city of Khujand in 2012 for alleged technical violations shortly after an Amparo representative accused the government of failing to address widespread reports of detainees being tortured.

In October, Tajik security forces mustered a massive display of strength at the mere rumor of a demonstration, which never came to pass. This month, the lower house of parliament quickly approved a draft law restricting demonstrations, again without public consultation.

The Asia-Plus news agency quoted political scientist Abdugani Mamadazimov as saying that the law shows that authorities have “opted for stability to the determent of democratic traditions.”

Editor’s note:  Konstantin Parshin is a freelance writer based in Tajikistan.

This story originally appeared on EurasiaNet.org.

Edited by Kitty Stapp

Last July, authorities in Tajikistan confiscated the only manuscript of a little-known novelist’s latest book. In what can only be described as an Orwellian sequence, after the manuscript was seized at a Dushanbe printing house, the author was hauled in for interrogation and asked questions like, “who ordered you to write this book?”

The author, Pulod Abuev, 69, later appealed to representatives of the feared State Committee for National Security (GKNB) to have his work returned to him. After some time, Abuev was told that a special committee at the state-run Academy of Sciences had reviewed his writings, including stories critical of Tajikistan’s widespread corruption, and decided it “offends the Tajik people.” The manuscript, thus, was not returned.“Take any classical play by Shakespeare or Chekhov, and the bureaucrats will immediately detect ‘a national security threat.’ " -- Barzu Abdurazzakov

At a Jan. 17 news conference, Abdulvokhid Shamolov of the Academy of Sciences, who conducted the review of Abuev’s work, said the author had expressed support for the theories of an unnamed “Uzbek scientist” who has denied the existence of the Tajik nation.

“The Academy of Sciences and the National Security Committee [GKNB] have performed their duties – to ensure security in the country,” Shamolov said in comments carried by the Asia Plus news agency.

Abuev’s case has heightened fears among some in Dushanbe’s creative class that Tajik authorities are trying to stamp out any form of freethinking under the vague pretext of patriotism. Already self-censorship is widespread among journalists who face libel charges and death threats when tackling tricky subjects. Local observers say the chief enforcer of the government’s perceived “group-think” campaign is the GKNB, which is the recipient of training assistance from the American military.

Abuev believes he was labeled an agent of rival Uzbekistan simply for expressing forthright views about the present state of Tajik society. One of the short stories in the manuscript is a thinly disguised tale about a new toll road that profits relatives of the president’s family.

“I write about life, about labour migrants, about corruption and the hypocrisy of bureaucrats. Somebody has seen a threat to national security in my work. This is ridiculous,” Abuev told EurasiaNet.org.

The space for intellectual discourse is vanishing, according to celebrated playwright Barzu Abdurazzakov. He went on to assert that authorities are gagging literature that even the most zealous Soviet censor would have found unproblematic.

“Take any classical play by Shakespeare or Chekhov, and the bureaucrats will immediately detect ‘a national security threat.’ If it keeps going this way, they will ban all of ancient literature and classical dramaturgy – since all those plays tell us about the tragedy of kings and their children,” Abdurazzakov told EurasiaNet.org. (Many of President Imomali Rakhmon’s relatives occupy senior government posts and other prominent positions).

Abdurazzakov, perhaps unsurprisingly in this atmosphere, says he is unable to find work these days in Tajikistan.

When a social critic happens to be a member of an ethnic minority, the personal attacks can get ugly, noted Temur Varky, a Tajik citizen from a minority background who operates an independent television station in Moscow that broadcasts to audiences in Tajikistan.

In several Facebook messages since June, one “Tamara Obidova” has called Varky “a traitor and liar with a family name alien to Tajiks.” Obidova wrote that Varky “is trying to split” Tajikistan, “the crowned nation of Asia.” She went on to compare Varky to Tamerlane, a folk villain in Tajikistan who is revered as a conquering hero in neighbouring Uzbekistan.

In Tajikistan and Uzbekistan, as in many of the states that gained independence after the Soviet Union’s demise, attempts to define national identity often resort to “us versus them” tropes. Such unsophisticated nationalism enables officials to blame mysterious outside forces, dodge criticism and dilute responsibility for their own missteps. In the pro-government media, arguments about resources or borders often degenerate into disputes about historical rivalries dating back centuries.

Varky and several newspaper editors in Dushanbe who spoke on condition of anonymity believe “Tamara Obidova” and other, similar Internet trolls are working on behalf of the GKNB. (Similar allegations are common in Uzbekistan and Russia, too).

Varky says his troubles with Obidova began soon after he announced his support for Zaid Saidov, an opposition politician arrested a few months before presidential elections last year. (Most independent observers believe the arrest was politically motivated — designed to silence a reformist and potential rival to President Rakhmon, who ended up securing reelection).

Human Rights Watch noted that the November vote “lacked meaningful political competition.” Last month, Saidov was sentenced to 26 years in prison on a variety of charges after a closed trial that few believe was fair.

“Authorities are hounding his [Saidov’s] supporters and those expressing alternative views,” Varky told EurasiaNet.org.

Ironically, Rakhmon scolded officials less than two years ago for not responding to criticism: He called criticism “a constructive phenomenon,” adding that it was “an important factor for development in society.”

That was then; these days those viewing the rich and the powerful with a critical eye often face a backlash. For example, Olga Tutubalina, the editor of the Asia Plus weekly, is being sued for an article she wrote last year criticising members of government-funded creative and artistic unions as government sycophants. Tutubalina – a non-Tajik minority who was born in Dushanbe – has received racist hate mail charging she is trying to destroy the Tajik nation.

Meanwhile, authorities are working to define what is Tajik and what is not. Earlier this month, for instance, the Dushanbe mayor’s office announced it would begin monitoring music in taxis and on public buses to prevent passengers from listening to tunes that are “alien to national and universal human values.”

Editor’s note: Konstantin Parshin is a freelance writer based in Tajikistan. This story originally appeared on EurasiaNet.org.

Official recognition as a member of the intelligentsia in present-day Tajikistan means lots of perks, including apartments and access to state-funded vacation resorts. In exchange, members – described as the “conscience of the nation” – are expected to support incumbent authorities.

But one journalist is kicking up a storm by shining light on intellectual corrosion in the existing system."Should anyone say something about the intelligentsia in the same tone in another country...they would skin that person or would drag him like a sacrificial animal in a game of buzkashi." -- Writers’ Union Chairman Mekhmon Bakhti

The official “intelligentsia” in Tajikistan harkens back to Soviet days, when an artist or writer whose work buttressed state policies would gain membership in one of several state-supported “creative unions”, such as the Writers’ Union. It was a quid pro quo in which the artists enjoyed a relatively cushy life, and the state enhanced its legitimacy via arts and culture.

Important elements of the old Soviet system remain in place in Tajikistan. Loyalty still matters, and members of the existing, officially recognised intelligentsia are expected to embrace President Imomali Rahmon’s policies, providing the administration with intellectual cover.

The current controversy in Dushanbe began when Bozor Sobir, a poet who had long lived in the United States, returned to Tajikistan in late May. Sobir established his reputation during the Soviet era, and supported the United Tajik Opposition during the country’s 1992-97 Civil War.

The victory of forces loyal to Rahmon in that conflict prompted Sobir to leave the country, and he resided in the United States for 19 years before Tajik authorities coaxed him into returning. Upon landing in Dushanbe on May 27, he dutifully praised Rahmon, who will run for another term this fall. Sobir called on Tajiks to unite around the president, and questioned the need for Tajikistan to have multiple political parties.

Those comments prompted Olga Tutubalina, the editor of the Asia-Plus weekly newspaper, to write a scathing commentary on May 30 that condemned Sobir by name and castigated the cozy relationships that many writers and artists maintain with the state. In asserting that many in Tajikistan’s intellectual class are frauds and sell-outs, she quoted a letter that Bolshevik leader Vladimir Lenin supposedly penned to pro-Soviet poet Maxim Gorky: “In fact, they are not [the nation’s] brains but its [waste].”

“Now, the former democrat and revolutionary [Sobir] has transformed himself into a high priest of authorities’ will,” Tutubalina added, reminding her readers of the poet’s role in the civil war.

Tutubalina’s blast did not go unanswered. A few days later, Writers’ Union Chairman Mekhmon Bakhti reportedly told a meeting of union members that Tutubalina had insulted not only all Tajik intellectuals, but also the whole nation, and that she should be sued.

“The journalist misinterpreted Lenin’s words, and it is obvious that she dislikes Tajiks,” he told the Ozodagon news agency on Jun. 17. Tutubalina is an ethnic Russian born and raised in Tajikistan.

“Should anyone say something about the intelligentsia in the same tone in another country – Kyrgyzstan, Turkmenistan or Georgia, for instance – they would skin that person or would drag him like a sacrificial animal in a game of buzkashi,” added Bakhti, referring to a polo-like game played with a decapitated goat.

For her part, Tutubalina told EurasiaNet.org that she did not mean to insult anyone. At the same time, she insists she has nothing to apologise for. “One particular segment of the intelligentsia does not deserve respect. I meant those who speak only when they get permission from above,” she said.

“Maybe they will take this to court. Initially, I thought that idea comes from certain individuals from the creative unions,” Tutubalina continued. “Now, I am almost certain that this is an order from above. Bakhti said I ‘insulted not only the intelligentsia, but the nation,’ and that ‘I dislike Tajiks.’ These accusations are groundless, but someone wants to make this into an ethnic issue. These statements are pressure on me personally, and on the independent media.”

Bakhti’s comments have divided Dushanbe’s educated class, many of whose members are privately critical of the government’s handling of the Tajik economy, specifically widespread corruption and the implementation of extravagant construction projects. Meanwhile, outsiders are critical of official creative unions for being silent about the problems facing Tajikistan.

“This so-called ‘conscience of the nation’ has slept for so long in cahoots with all the nasty things around it,” author Temur Varky told EurasiaNet.org. “Now, they are shouting about their honour and dignity. Their essence – their adaptive behaviour, cowardice and uselessness – has not changed.”

Galina Elbaum, a filmmaker and a member of the Cinematographers’ Union, emphasised that Bakhti should not be seen as a spokesman for all in the creative class. “Not all of the creative unions share the opinion of Mekhmon Bakhti. It is unlikely that they would sign a petition against the journalist,” she told EurasiaNet.org. “A professional journalist has the right to argue and reason, and to do this publicly.”

Bakhti maintains that he and at least nine others plan to file a lawsuit. Libel was decriminalised last year, but it remains a civil offence.

Press freedom advocates say that Tajik courts have in the past manipulated damage awards so that they, in effect, cause the bankruptcy of media outlets that have fallen out of official favor. So far this year, according to the National Association of Independent Media, six lawsuits have been brought against journalists, mostly by officials.

Abdugani Mamadazimov, head of the National Association of Political Scientists, told EurasiaNet.org that Tajikistan’s few independent media outlets are more active than its opposition parties, which explains why they face more pressure, especially in election years.

“Our mass media and independent journalists are the first to fight for democracy and civil society,” he said. Asked why the Writers’ Union chief cares so much about Tutubalina, Mamadazimov pointed at the ceiling and said, “He got a call from the top and was told to do this.”

*Editor’s note: Konstantin Parshin is a freelance writer based in Tajikistan.

This story originally appeared on EurasiaNet.org.

In a country with no daily newspapers and soft-hitting state media outlets, the Internet is where an increasing number of curious Tajikistanis go for news and information. That’s apparently got officials worried.

In recent months, some 50 websites, including independent news portals and the video-sharing platform YouTube, have been blocked in Tajikistan. Though most of the sites were reopened on October 10, the government’s communications service won’t say what’s going on.

The mass blockade started during a violent confrontation this summer between government troops and forces loyal to local warlords in the eastern Gorno-Badakhshan region. Authorities in Dushanbe said little about the operation – which is thought to have left about 70 people dead – but they immediately severed telephone and Internet connections with the region and started blocking websites reporting on the conflict.

At the same time, state media outlets all but ignored the developments in Gorno-Badakhshan, instead running programmes featuring traditional songs and dance.

Long after the violence was over, the restrictions persisted. To raise awareness about government censorship, on Oct. 3 journalists launched a campaign called “100 Days for Internet Freedom in TajNet.” Comprising prominent journalists and civil society activists, the group, in a statement, condemned the blocking of websites without a court ruling as illegal, and warned that the government was becoming an “enemy of the Internet”.

The most prominent figure in this story is Beg Zukhurov, the head of the state communications service, who answers to President Imomali Rahmon. Few are satisfied with his explanations regarding recent government actions.

At times, questioned over website blocks, he’s denied knowledge of any official orders; in other conversations, he has said his institution has a “special unit” tracing “black PR agents” that are deliberately slandering Tajikistan. When communications with Gorno-Badakhshan first went down, he suggested that a stray bullet might have taken out the cables.

Earlier in the year, when Facebook was blocked for a week, Zukhurov denied that there had been any order to shut down the site – where, he lamented, people criticise Rahmon. In a move that prompted widespread ridicule, his office then said Facebook was down for “prophylactic maintenance”.

Representatives of two Internet service providers (ISPs) told EurasiaNet.org that they receive their blocking orders by telephone directly from Zukhurov’s office. Failure to comply, they say, can mean losing a license, or an unexpected audit by the tax police. EurasiaNet.org’s repeated attempts to reach Zukhurov for this story failed.

Zukhurov has promised to create a larger office to monitor online publications, without explaining how members would be chosen, or what legal mandate they would have. Reporters Without Borders responded with “profound concern” that “such a system of control could lead to the wholesale blocking of online publications and websites.”

The watchdog organisation also fears that the system could be abused, noting that the communication service “has regularly targeted the websites of leading independent news organisations,” including Dushanbe’s Asia-Plus.

Asia-Plus, perhaps the most prominent independent news agency in Tajikistan, was blocked in July and became available again in late September. At different times, blocked sites have included the BBC’s Tajik Service, RIA Novosti, and prominent Russian-language news portals. As of Oct. 11, the BBC, RIA Novosti and YouTube were again available on most ISPs.

Nuriddin Karshiboev, the head of the National Association of Independent Media (NANSMIT) and one of the initiators of the 100 Days campaign, told EurasiaNet.org that the government regularly reacts to political uncertainty with Internet restrictions. The same thing happened, he said, during fighting between rebels and the government in the Rasht Valley in 2010.

“(Then) the authorities did the same thing. They ordered mobile phone operators to shut down connections, and the Internet providers were advised to block access to important news portals – those covering the clashes between Mullo Abdullo’s rebels and the government,” he said.

At that time, the defence minister said journalists’ criticism of the military operation helped “destabilise” the country.

Parvina Ibodova, head of the National Association of Internet Providers, says Zukhurov’s office has fueled confusion. “Mr. Zukhurov is the public official in charge; he should have clarified the situation with an open statement. Regrettably, the government also ignored the situation,” she told EurasiaNet.org.

For their part, officials often insist that independent media should not question the government. On Sep. 24, at an OSCE meeting in Warsaw on human rights, Muzaffar Ashurov, the president’s representative for constitutional and human rights, had stern words for an Asia-Plus correspondent, alleging that the news agency essentially supported the militants in Gorno-Badakhshan.

“You write that the government acted incorrectly by using force in Khorog (the capital of Gorno-Badakhshan). … You are encouraging people … to come out against the government,” he said.

His comments came shortly after Olga Tutubalina, a deputy editor at Asia-Plus, told participants at the OSCE gathering that information blackouts have become Dushanbe’s routine method for dealing with times of trouble.

“Almost every time when the economic and political situation worsens in the country, it’s accompanied by the blocking of sites and the disabling of [phone] connections,” Tutubalina said. “During the military operation in… Khorog, the official media didn’t even mention it (the events) once. Endless concerts and celebrations were broadcast on state television.”

*Editor’s note: Konstantin Parshin is a freelance writer based in Tajikistan.

This story originally appeared on EurasiaNet.org.

This summer, a 32-year-old musician with Uzbek citizenship was visiting her mother in Samarkand, Uzbekistan. For the last decade, the musician has lived in the Tajik capital Dushanbe with her husband, an ethnic Uzbek, and their 10-year-old daughter.

The visit coincided with Uzbek authorities’ decision to reintroduce exit visas for citizens traveling to Tajikistan. She thus became a virtual prisoner in Uzbekistan, a victim of acrimonious ties between the two long-time rivals.

“When I got to the border on my way back (to Dushanbe), border guards told me that I was missing an exit visa stamp in my passport. I had no clue what this was, but had to obey and returned to Samarkand,” the musician recalled.

“I spent the next two weeks visiting the law enforcement agencies – from the district police station to the Interior Ministry and officials at the SNB (National Security Agency SNB). I was harassed everywhere – one officer called me ‘a prostitute wishing to work in Tajikistan,’ another wondered why I have so many border stamps in my passport, hinting that I am involved in espionage.”

Accusations of passport violations are dangerous in Uzbekistan, a regime infamous for its opaque justice system. Eventually she gave up trying to get an exit visa for Tajikistan. Since one is not required for Uzbek citizens traveling to Russia, she bought an air ticket to Moscow and returned to Dushanbe via the Russian capital. (The musician spoke on condition of anonymity because her mother, whom she’s trying to get out, still lives in Uzbekistan).

Relations between Tajikistan and Uzbekistan have been worsening for years. When the Soviet Union fell apart, air connections ceased. In 2001, Uzbekistan began requiring Tajikistan’s citizens to obtain visas prior to arrival, and mined parts of the border, a practice that has resulted in hundreds of people being killed and maimed.

In recent years, moreover, Uzbekistan has stepped up what its poorer neighbour calls a “blockade”, upping tariffs on goods transiting and often blocking rail shipments. Uzbekistan has increased cargo transit tariffs four times in the past two years. Of 16 border crossings, only two remain open.

The chief source of bilateral rancor is water. Tajik President Imomali Rahmon wants to build the world’s tallest hydropower station, Rogun. Downstream, Uzbek President Islam Karimov has vowed to do whatever necessary to stop the project. Karimov fears the dam will give Rahmon the ability to regulate water flows, and thus exert a measure of control over Uzbekistan’s agricultural sector, including the lucrative cotton crop.

Early last month, Karimov said his neighbour’s hydropower dreams could even lead to war. At the U.N. General Assembly on Sep. 29, Tajikistan’s foreign minister, Hamrokhon Zarifi, said his country’s electricity shortages – which have been exacerbated since Uzbekistan pulled out of a Soviet-era regional energy grid – gave Dushanbe no choice but to pursue the hydropower project. Uzbek Foreign Minister Abdulaziz Kamilov used the same platform to argue against the project.

As the spat drags on, it’s average people, like the Dushanbe musician, who suffer.

In April, seven out of the eight registered political parties in Tajikistan – all except the president’s own People’s Democratic Party – appealed to the two presidents, calling on them to negotiate. (The last time one president invited the other for a visit was in 2001, when the two embraced and declared themselves eternal friends).

“The interests of society and the peoples must stand higher than personal and group interests and personal resentments,” said the parties’ statement. “Both presidents should meet halfway. Great people have always been able to forgive.”

More than one million ethnic Uzbeks are believed to live in Tajikistan; even more ethnic Tajiks live in Uzbekistan, Central Asia’s largest country by population. Many, especially those who were born of mixed marriages, grew up in a Soviet society believing that ethnic identity had little meaning. There are reports of harassment by authorities on both sides of the border.

In 2003, a well-known Tajik ecologist and journalist, Hamid Atakhanov, moved to Bukhara to care for his ailing wife – the two had lived there for many years during the Soviet era and have relatives there. After eight years, in 2011 he was suddenly accused by local authorities of inciting ethnic strife and deported back to Tajikistan.

“They gave me no time even to say goodbye to my wife and neighbours,” he told EurasiaNet.org.

Meanwhile, the Dushanbe musician is searching for ways to move her mother, a schoolteacher, to Dushanbe. Because the teacher has a daughter in Tajikistan, she suffers constant harassment from local authorities, the daughter says. At schools in Samarkand, principals instruct children to report on visitors from Tajikistan to the local police, making her and her mother (a hostess) automatically suspect.

“It sounds insane. Yes, they ask the kids to provide information about their families and neighbours visited by ‘strangers from the hostile country,’” the musician said.

*Editor’s note: Konstantin Parshin is a freelance writer based in Tajikistan.

This story originally appeared on Eurasianet.org.

Following a diplomatic faux pas that enraged Russia, the knives seem to be out for Tajikistan’s long-time president, Imomali Rahmon.

Various media outlets in Dushanbe have carried harsh commentaries concerning Rahmon’s administration in recent days, presenting an unusual and serious challenge to top authorities in Dushanbe.

The trigger for the media barrage was the Tajik government’s embarrassing confrontation with Moscow earlier in November. After sentencing two Russian charter airline pilots to eight and a half- year prison terms for smuggling spare engine parts, Dushanbe suddenly backtracked and released the pair when Moscow responded by rounding up Tajik migrant workers for deportation.

The Kremlin’s fury could have had devastating consequences for the Tajik economy, which depends on migrant remittances for up to 40 percent of GDP. On Internet chat rooms and in taxicab gossip, Tajiks appeared shocked at the way their government handled the situation.

In their Nov. 23-24 editions, the weeklies Asia-Plus, Nigoh, Ozodagon and Millat, along with the Avesta news agency, carried commentaries that catalogued how widespread corruption and nepotism are reportedly driving the country toward economic and political collapse. Ignoring ongoing libel suits that threaten to shut down several of the papers, editorials called for limits on Rahmon’s powers. They also called for the replacement of the president’s top advisers.

Although media outlets were careful not to attack the president directly, which is illegal, these boundary-pushing commentaries grabbed public attention in a country where the government maintains strict control over the press.

“The president must replace the personnel in the top echelon of power; otherwise, the latter will ‘unseat’ the president,” opened a 2,200-word editorial in Asia-Plus.

The commentaries took particular aim at ambitious and expensive government plans to construct the world’s tallest hydropower dam, Rogun. Last year, the government strong-armed most Tajiks into making “voluntary donations” – by withholding civil servants’ salaries and students’ stipends – without providing information on how the money is being used.

Rahmon “does not have a real programme to lead the country out of crisis”, said a commentary published by Nigoh. “The nation’s wealth is being distributed among certain groups existing under the aegis of the government, which enjoy immunity from judicial prosecution.”

The apparent unfairness of the justice system is causing “massive popular indignation”, said Asia-Plus, one of the most popular news outlets in the country. Of 7,491 defendants tried in criminal cases last year, only two were acquitted, according to the report. “Citizens of Tajikistan do not believe in the purity and independence of the judiciary,” it said.

The Russian pilots’ scandal and the shocking breakout last year of 25 high-profile prisoners, including alleged members of a militant Islamic group, from the State Committee for National Security’s remand centre, located a stone’s throw from the president’s office, “demonstrate an acute personnel and intellectual crisis”, Asia-Plus quoted Abdugani Mamadazimov, the chairman of the Tajik Association of Political Scientists, as saying.

Members of Rahmon’s family and top officials from his home province have amassed great wealth under his leadership while the rest of the country sinks deeper into poverty, Nigoh and other commentaries complained.

Since gaining independence in 1991, Tajiks have heard regularly about multi-million-dollar grants from international development agencies, but see no real changes, lamented Asia-Plus. Instead, in the latest United Nations Human Development Index, Tajikistan slipped 15 positions, to 127 out of 187 countries surveyed – the lowest score for any post-Soviet republic.

Meanwhile, the government offers young people no option other than to become labour migrants in Russia, an Asia-Plus commentary asserted. “Our schools train slaves,” it said.

Asia-Plus editor Marat Mamadshoev described the media assault as a grassroots reaction to widespread fear that Tajikistan is approaching “the point of no return”.

“The simultaneous publication of articles with similar contents and concerns in several Tajik outlets has nothing to do with a conspiracy. The Russian pilots’ case, followed by the mass deportation of Tajik labour migrants from Russia, has become the last straw that broke the camel’s back. Tajikistan is rolling down a hill,” he told EurasiaNet.org.

“There is fatigue in society. The people are tired of hypocrisy and the authorities’ idleness,” Mamadshoev added.

Asked if the journalists could expect punishment for their bold commentaries, Nuriddin Karshibaev, chairman of the National Association of Independent Media (NANSMIT), said the situation is too tense for officials to take revenge. “The authorities must learn a lesson. The media in Tajikistan are not very strong, but such audacious publications are another sign, even an alarm, indicating concern and the mood of society.”

“There is no need for a witch-hunt,” Karshibaev added, asked if the media onslaught might provoke memories of Russian meddling in the 2010 downfall of President Kurmanbek Bakiyev in neighbouring Kyrgyzstan.

When Bakiyev angered the Kremlin, the Russian media began bashing him and comparing him to famous historical despots, which opposition groups in Kyrgyzstan took as a sign of support. He was unseated within weeks.

Karshibaev sees no parallel. “The media are expressing what they have to express,” he said.

Editor’s note: Konstantin Parshin is a freelance writer based in Tajikistan.

*This story originally appeared on EurasiaNet.org.

Memo to leaders of Central Asian nations that lack abundant energy resources: messing with Moscow usually backfires.

That’s become apparent again this week in Tajikistan. Since a Tajik court sentenced two ethnic Russian pilots to eight and half-year prison terms on flimsy charges of smuggling spare airplane parts, Dushanbe is feeling Moscow’s wrath.

Russian leaders have assailed President Imomali Rahmon’s administration for trying to blackmail the Kremlin, and they are threatening to cripple Tajikistan’s economy by retaliating against Tajik migrant labourers in Russia.

The trouble began Nov. 8, when a Tajik court found Vladimir Sadovnichy, a Russian citizen, and Alexei Rudenko, a citizen of Estonia, guilty of illegally crossing the border and smuggling when they landed their two Antonov-72 cargo planes in the southern town of Kurgan-Tyube in March. They say they had repeatedly requested permission to refuel while ferrying the planes to Russia from Afghanistan, where they had been delivering humanitarian cargo. Though air traffic control refused, they landed to avert a crash.

Their mistake: not declaring a disassembled aircraft engine on board.

The Russian Foreign Ministry immediately slammed the “extremely severe” sentences as “politically motivated”. The charges “are groundless, far-fetched, and lacking in any serious legal justification”, ministry spokesman Aleksandr Lukashevich said at a briefing on Nov. 9. “This verdict does not help strengthen our existing relationship as allied strategic partners. In fact it is damaging it seriously.”

The day after the verdict, Russian President Dmitry Medvedev issued a veiled threat on television. Demanding an explanation, he said Moscow’s response “may be different, depending on the reply we receive – symmetrical or asymmetrical.”

Russian-Tajik relations have been prickly for the past couple of years, with the biggest bilateral sore point being the on-again, off- again efforts to finish the Rogun Dam.

When it comes to the pilot prosecution, Tajik officials deny any political motives. Instead, Prosecutor-General Sherkhon Salimzoda explained on Nov. 10 that Kabul asked Tajik officials to detain the planes – registered to a mysterious British Virgin Islands-based company, Rolkan Investments Ltd. – because they were operating without a license.

Russian media outlets dismiss the late explanation, instead asserting that Dushanbe is “blackmailing” Moscow over the future of the 201st Motorized Rifle Division’s continued presence in Tajikistan.

Russia has more troops in Tajikistan than any other foreign country. In September, Medvedev and Rahmon agreed they would sign an agreement early next year for another 49 years rent-free. But Rahmon is rumored to be deeply unhappy about the deal. Tajik officials have occasionally suggested that the Russians should pay rent to station their troops on Tajik soil – an idea that makes Moscow recoil.

“There are some aspects in Russia’s current policy which some Tajik politicians don’t quite like,” Andrei Grozin of the CIS Institute told the Voice of Russia. “Or, probably, Tajikistan wants some economic privileges from Russia. This case is probably a pretext for Tajik authorities to offer Russia some bargain: you do this and that, and we’ll release your pilot.”

Many Tajiks are horrified by the risk this spat poses to their livelihoods. Around a million Tajiks – one-seventh the population – work abroad, mostly in Russia. Some estimates say their remittances comprise up to 40 percent of Tajikistan’s GDP. On Nov. 11, Moscow threatened to deport over 200 Tajik guest workers, the RIA Novosti news agency reported.

“One of the most realistic and most effective measures could be introducing strict quotas and even a visa regime for Tajik citizens,” declared a commentary in the Moskovskii Komsomolets newspaper.

Tajik opposition politician Hajji Akbar Turajonzoda, a long-time political enemy of Rahmon’s, told the Interfax news agency that he fears the “hasty” court decision will complicate the lives of Tajik migrants working in Russia.

“I think that this decision was made at the highest level and I personally do not understand what goals the authorities intended by this,” he said.

The case also may stoke rising xenophobic sentiments in both countries, worries Dushanbe-based political analyst Parviz Mullojanov. “The incident can be seen in the context of two growing waves of nationalism – in Russia and in Tajikistan. In both countries, opposition political parties use nationalist statements to attract attention.”

One Russian gadfly-nationalist, Vladimir Zhirinovsky, has already started stirring up muck with the help of Kremlin-financed media.

“Tajik authorities’ real purpose was to seize aircraft that would later be used for drug trafficking,” Russia Today quoted Zhirinovsky as saying on Nov. 9. Moscow should introduce a visa regime for Tajik migrant workers as a retaliatory measure, he added.

“Such comments are very serious and dangerous for relations between Dushanbe and Moscow,” responded Nuriddin Karshibaev, director of the National Association of Independent Media of Tajikistan (NANSMIT), a watchdog group in Dushanbe.

“There is a growing threat of information and ideological attacks from both sides, which could be used by destructive political forces in their intrigues.”

Editor’s note: Konstantin Parshin is a freelance writer based in Tajikistan.

*This story originally appeared on EurasiaNet.org.