ON CITY STREETS, say visitors to Almaty in Kazakhstan, Bishkek in Kyrgyzstan and Tashkent in Uzbekistan, a shift in the ethnic mix gives the surreal impression that the Soviet Union has reconstituted itself. Since Russian President Vladimir Putin invaded Ukraine in February, large numbers of Russians have fled, many ending up in the former Soviet states of Central Asia.
The first to arrive were professionals and protesters: liberal types who quickly understood the nature of the catastrophe that Mr. Putin had wrought on his own country as well as on Ukraine. More recently came the rebels. Mr. Putin announced a mobilization of more than 300,000 Russian men last month. Since then, at least 100,000 have fled to these three countries alone.
During the heyday of the Soviet Union, ethnic Russians, who made up much of Central Asia’s urban population, were the imperial overlords. Even since independence, citizens of Central Asian states coming as migrant workers to Russia have suffered discrimination, been the target of occasional racism and condemned to the most menial jobs. The boot is now on the other foot, but the Central Asians refuse to use it against the Russian posterior. Many Russians say they are amazed at the welcome they receive (although tensions are now rising as some of the newcomers fail in their usual arrogance).
The warmth between ordinary people is the flip side of the strained official relations between Central Asia and Mr Putin. The region’s leaders are appalled by his violence against Ukraine. According to Kate Mallinson of Prism Political Risk Management in London, it highlighted Russia’s unreconstructed imperial impulse, with clear risks for Central Asia.
Governments in the region have refused to approve Russia’s invasion or annexation of Ukraine’s eastern provinces. They will not make the rebellious. And even though in January, under a mutual security pact, Mr. Putin sent troops to Kazakhstan to help counter an attempted coup, no debt of gratitude exists. The idea that Kazakhstan should “eternally serve and bow at the feet of Russia” is “far from reality”, President Kassym-Zhomart Tokayev told Russian television.
The protocols and body language of meetings between Mr. Putin and Central Asian leaders are also telling. At a rally last month in Uzbekistan, the Russian president, known for keeping world leaders waiting, twiddled his thumbs for President Sadyr Japarov of Kyrgyzstan, a small, impoverished country where Russia has a history of shooting the strings. At a Russia-Central Asia summit hosted by Kazakhstan last week, Mr. Tokayev apparently did not have a one-on-one meeting with Mr. Putin.
Cumulatively, these signs and slights indicate the waning influence of Russia in Central Asia. But make no mistake: this is not a break. The historical ties between the countries run deep. The elites of Central Asia are closely linked to those of Russia. The older members grew up in the Soviet Union. The younger ones are clubbing at home in Moscow. Economic ties are crucial. Central Asia depends on remittances from migrant workers in Russia, as well as imports of sugar and wheat. One of the world’s largest pipelines carries most of Kazakhstan’s oil to a Russian port on the Black Sea. Russia uses the ability to shut it down at will. Its security services remain strong in the region.
And there is no escaping geography. Kazakhstan’s 7,644 km (4,750 mile) border with Russia is the second longest after Canada’s with America. Towns with large populations of ethnic Russians on the Kazakhstan side offer Mr Putin plenty of opportunities to stir up trouble by playing on ethnic grievances, as he has done for years in eastern Ukraine.
Yet even a reduced influence, far from a pause, still creates a void. It is filled in part by China. Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan and Uzbekistan also want to draw closer to Turkey and the West, in what Kazakhstan calls a “multi-vector” approach to balancing competing powers. For now, the region is content to manage its wire number with Russia. On the other hand, there are growing fears that Mr. Putin could escalate his war in Ukraine by targeting civilians more or, worst of all, by using nuclear weapons. Nargis Kassenova of Harvard University says that would cross a line for Central Asian leaders – Kazakhstan, for example, places nuclear disarmament at the heart of its foreign policy. A perilous rupture would then surely ensue.■
Read more from Banyan, our columnist on Asia:
The Shameful Statelessness of Southeast Asian Sea Nomads (October 13)
What Pacific Island States Think About Great Power Competition (October 6)
Indian government exports its Hindu nationalism (September 29)
