By Sergei Blagov writing in Asia Times

MOSCOW – The Russian Foreign Ministry has accredited Uzbek President Islam Karimov’s daughter as a counselor at the Uzbek embassy in Moscow in a move that could be interpreted as a new sign of Uzbekistan’s political drift towards Moscow. However, Russian media outlets, notably Nezavisimaya Gazeta daily, speculate that Gulnara accepted the post simply to obtain diplomatic immunity.

Gulnara Karimova-Maqsudi has already sought international immunity in a bitter custody battle over her children, on the grounds that Uzbekistan is not party to international agreements on civil matters, commonly referred to in legal circles as the Hague Conventions.

In January, the Superior Court of New Jersey ruled that Mansur Maqsudi, of Mendham, New Jersey, deserved sole custody of the couple’s two children, 10-year-old Islam and six-year-old Iman. His ex-wife, Gulnara, had taken the boy and the girl to the Uzbek capital, Tashkent, in 2001, when her estranged husband sought to dissolve their marriage. The court called on Gulnara to “cause the children to be transported to the United States or to another country which is a signatory to the Hague Convention”.

Moreover, the court disclosed some information on the division of assets, indicating the affluence of the Karimovs. For instance, the court awarded Maqsudi the house the couple had shared in Mendham, New Jersey. He also is to take possession of two luxury cars, a $7,000 piano, over $440,000 in bank and brokerage accounts, a stake in a business called the ROZ Group – valued at close to $6 million – and $3.3 million in cash. According to the ruling, Gulnara could keep $4.5 million worth of jewelry, 20 percent of Uzbekistan’s Uzdunrobita wireless telephone company, worth $15 million, $11 million in bank and investment holdings in Geneva and Dubai, a house in Tashkent, a $10 million retail complex, a $13 million resort in Uzbekistan and Tashkent nightclubs worth $4 million, and a TV station, recording studio and spa worth $5.5 million. The wireless phone company is a joint venture founded by the state (as a minority shareholder) and an American cellular concern.

Moreover, to feel more at home in Moscow, Gulnara reportedly purchased 420 square meters of three-level apartments at the “Camelot” deluxe compound in downtown Moscow. Details of the deal are yet to be disclosed, but the apartments’ price is estimated at $1.5-2 million.

To date, there has been no official clarification on how Gulnara, who reportedly worked in the state bureaucracy, obtained such extensive business and property holdings. It is yet to be revealed whether the Moscow penthouse is counted as Gulnara’s private property, or Uzbekistan’s diplomatic asset.

Gulnara’s new-found diplomatic privileges come at just the right time as she is now seeking immunity from the US ruling, having failed to comply with the New Jersey court’s January custody order. This forced the same court, on June 10, to order Gulnara’s arrest. In a tit-for-tat response, Uzbekistan’s Prosecutor General issued international arrest warrants for Mansur Maqsudi, his father Abdul-Rauf and brother Farid, all ethnic Uzbeks naturalized in the US.

This controversy has overshadowed bilateral relations between the US and Uzbekistan, which is increasingly drawing international criticism over its human rights practices. At the same time, Tashkent faces growing pressure from global financial institutions to introduce currency convertibility, and to take other steps to liberalize the economy.

The latest government crackdown in Uzbekistan is the harshest since the one in the aftermath of the 1999 Tashkent bombings, international observers say. In recent months, human rights advocates, independent journalists and opposition political activists have endured arrests, beatings and other forms of intimidation.

Last May, human rights advocate Ruslan Sharipov was arrested on homosexuality charges. An Uzbek court sentenced him to a five-year jail term on August 13. On August 28, Surat Ikramov, an outspoken defender of Sharipov, was abducted from his car in Tashkent by four masked men, according to a statement issued by the New York-based Human Rights Watch. He was subsequently beaten, sustaining concussion and two broken ribs.

The crackdown has created a dilemma for US diplomats, given that Uzbekistan is Washington’s most important strategic partner in Central Asia. Uzbek military bases have been used to back international efforts in Afghanistan.

Both Karimov and Uzbek Foreign Minister Sadyk Safayev, a former ambassador to Washington, have stressed that Tashkent’s desire for expanded economic ties with Russia does not mean a deterioration in relations with the US.

Karimov used the September 1 opening of the fall parliamentary session to stress the importance of bilateral relations with Russia, and recalled his meeting with Russian President Vladimir Putin in Samarkand in August as “important”. He said that he and Putin sought to reach agreement on all topics they discussed, and that he was greatly satisfied with the outcome.

During the Samarkand meeting, Putin and Karimov concentrated primarily on the prospects for expanding bilateral economic cooperation, especially the export of Uzbek cotton and natural gas, and the participation of Russian companies in exploring oil and gas deposits in Uzbekistan. Karimov’s daughter taking up a position as a diplomat in Moscow might help support these initiatives.

Adding spice to the controversy swirling around Gulnara are unconfirmed reports that she had married Sadyk Safayev, who has been touted as Karimov’s successor; although all of the former Soviet states are technically republics, family succession plays a big part.

In a remarkable dispatch, Ed Vulliamy pieces together for the first time the full story of the Uzbek massacre that the world forgot

From The Guardian

Enough bricks had finally arrived to build a bread oven, and they finished it within hours: a splendid creation with a dome of clay, wood smoke rising into the late afternoon sun as it baked some lepeshka bread, deliciously special to Uzbekistan. It was yet another day’s hard work by those trying to make this place home. These are Uzbeks, but this is not Uzbekistan; this is a refugee camp on the outskirts of the Romanian town of Timisoara, where huge efforts have gone into making a temporary staging post, before this tightknit group is scattered across the globe to whichever countries may take them.

These are not ordinary refugees, outcast and dispossessed, like so many millions are, as the human side-effect of war. These 439 people are eyewitnesses to and, remarkably, survivors of one of the worst atrocities of recent times, a massacre which the perpetrators have tried to keep secret, and with whom the international diplomatic community cooperates through a conspiracy of silence.

The May 13 massacre of hundreds, possibly thousands, of innocent civilians at Andijan in eastern Uzbekistan was carried out by soldiers and paramilitary units dispatched to kill by the regime of President Islam Karimov – protege of Vladimir Putin and, until recently, a crucial ally to Britain and America in the “war on terror”. The dead were among thousands who had gathered to protest for democratic and economic reforms, and in support of businessmen arrested and held on trumped-up charges. To date, there has been no official tally of how many perished, nor an official acknowledgement of the atrocity by the authorities, who have refused an international investigation.

And when these refugees disperse, so too will the only available testimony to what happened that terrible day, in what has been called central Asia’s Tiananmen Square. Despite their wish to remain together, no single country has agreed to take all 439, and these people will therefore scatter across the globe, along with their account of the carnage. Meanwhile, the Karimov regime is harassing, arresting and torturing the refugees’ families to the point that the refugees prefer not to endanger them with further contact.

For this article, their names have been changed and faces cannot be shown, for fear of what might happen to their loved ones back home. Karimov has refused an international inquiry into the bloodletting and closed his borders to human rights organisations and journalists wanting to investigate the massacre. Instead, a series of trials will reportedly begin next week of those charged with “fomenting” the violence of May 13. Perversely, it is not Karimov’s troops who will stand accused, but those who organised and participated in the demonstration.

Most of the refugees manage to hold on to the odd photograph or memento from home. But these people at Timisoara have nothing. They left for the demonstration that morning, only to find themselves lucky to be alive, and to be here. Most of the women left their children at home that day and have not seen them since. These are families torn asunder. But their eyes are defiant and alive; there is a curious strength amid the wretchedness. “There is light in our eyes,” says one woman, Zarnigor. “Do not think we are weak people. We are not.”

Armed jailbreak

Karimov came to power in Uzbekistan in 1991, shortly after the country gained independence from the Soviet Union. US and European officials declined to send observers to the country’s most recent elections in 2000, saying there was no possibility that it could be fair; Karimov has since changed the constitution to extend his presidential term. His regime has persecuted the democratic opposition and representatives of what human rights organisations call “independent Islam”, accusing anyone who dares criticise him of fundamentalism or terrorism. After the September 2001 attacks on the US, Uzbekistan, thanks to its Afghan border, became a crucial strategic ally to the Anglo-American axis; after Britain’s ambassador to Tashkent, Craig Murray, questioned Tony Blair’s support of such a regime in October 2002 he faced disciplinary proceedings. In 2003, the UN special rapporteur for torture, Theo van Boven, called the use of such practice “systematic” in Uzbekistan. There were and are small, militant and violent ‘ ‘ Islamic factions in Uzbekistan, but they have never propelled the democratic movement and had nothing to do with the events of May 13.

Andijan was a focal point for opposition, lying in the densely populated but desperately poor Fergana valley. It was here that 23 businessmen, who provided work independent of the state, were arrested in June 2004; they were tried eight months later in February 2005 on trumped-up charges of “religious extremism”, and imprisoned. On the night of May 12, relatives and supporters of the men reportedly seized weapons from a police station and barracks, mounted an armed jailbreak and released the 23. Some of those dealing with the refugees suspect a set-up by agents provocateurs, but whatever the truth, the dramatic breakout sparked spirits and set the scene for an opposition rally planned for the next day.

Unfortunately for the regime, a correspondent for the London-based Institute for War and Peace Reporting, Galima Bukharbaeva, was present in Bobur Square as the state militia descended on a crowd of 10,000-30,000 demonstrators and began to shoot indiscriminately. Otherwise, news of the ensuing massacre might never have reached the west. Bukharbaeva’s notebook and press card now carry a bullet hole as a souvenir from the day.

Even more inconveniently for those who would wish the massacre forgotten, hundreds of demonstrators escaped to Kyrgyzstan where they were given shelter by the UN High Commission for Refugees. Four refugees have been deported back to Uzbekistan and an unknown fate, but at the end of July UNHCR secured the transfer of the remaining 439 to Romania, pending asylum in other countries. In June, Human Rights Watch published an account of the slaughter pieced together from interviews with refugees. Amnesty International also interviewed the survivors, and reported similarly. And yet the diplomatic and political silence has been deafening. Initial demands for an international inquiry have tapered into nothing. When Jack Straw hosted the EU foreign ministers’ summit earlier this month, he could have included the massacre on its agenda, but did not. The EU’s “Partnership and Co-operation” scheme with the Karimov regime remains intact. The Foreign Office, like the EU, is not discussing sanctions of any kind.

After being squeezed into cramped tents in Kyrgyzstan, the refugees’ Romanian camp is well run and tidy. Women work on bright-coloured textiles while men play football. There is a school with lessons in English, Russian and Uzbek, for adults and children alike. One man is learning phrases from his exercise book. “Where is your family?” it reads. “Why are you here?”

They ask to tell their story in two groups, men first, then women. “We went on the demonstration because there was no work,” says Pulat, a mason. “I couldn’t find a job,” agrees Timur, also a mason. Both were laid off when the businessmen were arrested. “I couldn’t feed my children,” says Yuldash, who owned a bakery and hairdressers in Andijan, and who shows me a bullethole in his hat. “We hoped the local government would come to hear our grievances. People said even Karimov himself would come,” says Dolim. “We went because of unemployment, low salaries not paid, pensions not received.” Questions about religious fundamentalism receive a hollow laugh.

Crowds began to gather in Bobur Square from 7am on May 13. There were some armed oppositionists around a local government building at one end, say the refugees and international organisations that have investigated the massacre, but not among the 10,000 demonstrators in the square, who included large numbers of women and children. The first shooting began at 8am, says Hakim, as government militiamen drove up, opened fire and left, during which time he saw a woman and child killed. The car was followed by a military jeep, spraying the crowd with gunfire. Then “it came from all sides,” says Dolim. “We had gone expecting speeches, not bullets.”

Why did they stay in the square? “Because,” says Hakim, “if you tried to leave by side streets, they were blocked by armoured cars. I saw people trying to escape being killed up those streets.” Anyway, says Nizomidin, “we were expecting people from the government to arrive and stop it, to save us. Someone said Karimov was on his way, and people started cheering.”

Instead, at about 10am, a group of armoured cars entered the square, criss-crossing its edges and firing indiscriminately. In no way, say the witnesses, were they targeting the armed men at the other end. The shooting continued sporadically until 5pm, when two columns of armed personnel carriers arrived. “The second [column] opened fire directly at us,” says Yuldash. “I saw people falling around me, women and children too; screaming and blood everywhere. I saw at least five small children killed.”

By the end, says Pulat, “there was one road open, along which we could get away”. It led to a junction, blocked by APCs, but for a left turn, and along this route, the bedraggled procession proceeded. “We formed a group – I’d say about 3,000-strong,” recalls Nizomidin. “We put men on the edges, to protect women and children.”

As they advanced, some members of the crowd took six policemen hostage to use as human shields. Even so, the column was ambushed by snipers positioned in four-storey buildings along the route. “You could tell they were marksmen, because those around me were being hit in the head or heart,” says Timur. “A boy of about 16 in front of me was hit and his head smashed away. Another was shot between the eyes.”

Further along, a military unit was lined up in battle formation, as though facing an advancing army, not an unarmed crowd. Soldiers were lying behind sandbags; behind them were APCs. As the fleeing people approached, they were assailed by gunfire. The slaughter lasted 90 minutes. “The dead were lying in front of me piled three-thick,” says Nizomidin. “At one point, I passed out. When I regained consciousness, it was raining – on the ground, I could see water running with blood.”

There was one street open, “one way out”, says Pulat. Turning right here, a few survivors made their escape. “To get to that street,” says Nizomidin, “I had to climb over the bodies. There were dead women and children; I saw one woman lying dead with a small baby in her arms.”

Not everyone took that escape route immediately. Nafruz, 34, lay on the ground, realising that “whoever raised their head would be shot. I was surrounded from all sides by shooting.” It seems likely, from the size of ordnance described by the survivors, and the fact that bodies were reportedly being flung back a metre and a half when hit, that anti-aircraft weaponry was being used against the unarmed crowd. “My clothes were covered in brains and blood,” says Nafruz. “I stayed two hours after the shooting stopped, then crawled over the bodies to the college.”

‘A scene from hell’

Nafruz’s 38-year-old cousin Baltabai had gone on the march, he says, “because I was unemployed and wanted to demand my rights. I tried to carry a wounded boy, but the man helping me was shot in the head, so we dropped him. People were shouting, ‘Don’t stand up!’ but a woman rose when her child was killed to hold the body, crying, and a sniper shot her through the head too.”

Like his cousin, Baltabai hid under piles of corpses until after the shooting stopped, he thinks at about 8pm – 10 hours after the gunfire began. “Then I crawled behind a tree and stood, looking at what I saw. Dead people everywhere, and some alive, just moving. I felt sick, because of all the things splattered on my clothes. I went into the college and saw the APCs moving over the bodies. They wanted to kill anyone who was wounded. Soldiers walked down the sidewalk, firing single shots at anyone moving. It was a scene from hell, but I saw it, just a hundred days ago.”

The crowd which had taken the side street wound its way by night towards the Kyrgyz border, a 50km road along which the refugees were periodically ambushed. “We had to leave the wounded by the wayside,” recalls Pulat. “There was nothing we could do for them.”

“A lot of women turned back at the border town of Teshiktash because they had left their babies at home,” says Timur. “Most were killed as they walked back.” Some did make it to the border, however, their clothes caked in blood and mud. “We carried white flags to show we were not armed,” says Hakim. “The border guards searched us, five by five.”

Even though they had got to Kyrgyzstan, though, the Uzbek authorities did not relent in ‘ ‘ their pursuit. Family members of those who had fled were rounded up and escorted across the border to plead with them to return, apparently with full Kyrgyz cooperation. “My wife was sent to tell me my son was going to be arrested if I didn’t return,” says Yuldash. Hakim’s father was also sent to tell him that soldiers and the neighbourhood committee had raided their house. “He said: ‘Don’t come back, son, you’ll be arrested. Try to run!’, but when we came outside again with the Uzbek guards watching, we had to go through this stupid performance of him pulling me and me pushing him away, for his own safety.”

At least in Kyrgyzstan, however, the refugees heard news of family members and of and those who elected to go back (in Romania, they are almost entirely isolated). “One man’s son decided to go,” says Yuldash, “and they broke his arms and legs at the border. It was clear what was waiting for anyone who went back: prison and torture.” “Our families told us that ever since we left they were being watched and raided,” says Pulat. “One man who went back had been taken for interrogation with needles in his nails. Later, they killed him, took the body to his parents and said: ‘Here is your child. Let that be an example.'”

“Someone gave the order to kill all of us,” says Yuldash. He looks at me. “But can you tell us, sir: why this silence over what happened in Andijan?”

‘If you can, just run’

We conclude, exhausted, for the women are waiting to talk. There are more of them, in brilliantly coloured headscarves. Mutabar was expecting a peaceful march, and took three of her children; likewise Yulduzhon, who took her son, “but we left our babies. We thought we were going home after the demonstration.” Their account of what happened accords with that of the men. “When they were shooting, we lay on top of our children to protect them,” says one woman, Gulchera. “The dead were spread all over the street, there was blood in the rain, running like rivers. Everywhere was the smell of blood.” “My son was shot in the head,” cries another. “I saw my own son shot in the head. You could see women and children’s shoes all over the street.”

Then one new, horrific detail emerges about the border crossing into Kyrgyzstan. “When we reached a crossroads, near Teshiktash,” says Zarnigor, “some men said, ‘Let’s go this way, over the hills,’ but a group of mostly women and children sat down to rest. When we got up and were walking over the crossroads, a ring of soldiers opened fire, even though we were waving white shawls and shouting ‘Don’t shoot!'”

“We were mostly women in that group,” says Naziba, “about to join the main column. I saw three women and children die next to me – women killed by soldiers.” “There was one woman next to me,” adds Barchinoi, “who said, ‘You go, you go,’ and I answered, ‘What about you?’ Then I saw that the bullets had torn away the other half of her body.”

“The men shouted: ‘If you can, just run,'” says Zarnigor. “They said that we would have to leave the dead and wounded. When we crossed the border, the guards told us, ‘Just be quiet – don’t talk about it.'”

Of 13 women round the table, 11 have left children at home. “I have left six sons,” says one. “I miss them, and I wonder . . .” Another, Barchinoi, says, “I was still breastfeeding one of the babies I left behind. But I am scared to ask for news, because of what might happen.”

The Uzbek regime denies that military or internal security troops fired on demonstrators on May 13. President Karimov initially estimated a death toll of nine, although the official figure was increased to 169 by May 18. The Uzbek government insists that any firing was directed against armed insurgents, and that “only bandits” were killed. While UN demands for an international inquiry are denied, a series of programmes has been aired on Uzbek television showing what human rights organisations insist is a fabricated history of events.

Showing a determination conspicuously unmatched by international governments and the diplomatic community, Human Rights Watch and IWPR have tried to find out what is happening in Uzbekistan. IWPR reports that in the massacre’s wake, “security forces went round methodically finishing off the injured”. A policeman interviewed for the report expresses “the disquiet he felt after three days gathering corpses”. HRW has established that bodies were hastily removed from the square and surrounding streets. There are rumours that “some bodies were buried near Bogshamal cemetery”, says HRW, but that “this and other suspected burial places were off-limits for journalists and human rights workers”. Both organisations confirm the policy of harassing and detaining refugees’ relatives, and a further HRW report, due imminently, will detail the torture of massacre survivors, attempting to persuade them to confess to possession of weapons, membership of illegal organisations, attempting to portray a fictitious armed uprising. The new UN torture rapporteur, Manfred Novak, has accused Uzbekistan of torturing citizens in the aftermath of the massacre. But information is agonisingly scarce.

Meanwhile, the 439 are by no means the only refugees, nor the only ones at risk. Amnesty International estimates that as many as 1,000 Uzbeks could still be hiding in Kyrgyzstan, and that “the authorities in Kyrgyzstan are effectively not in a position to provide refugees physical protection from the Uzbekistani government forces they were fleeing.” There are reports of Uzbek security forces operating on Kyrgyz territory in pursuit of their quarry.

‘Disgraceful and dismaying’

Fifteen further survivors of the massacre remain in custody in Kyrgyzstan: UNHCR has established refugee status for 12 of them, and found destination countries for 11. The remaining three are of concern to UNHCR; their status is being assessed separately by both UNHCR and the Kyrgyz authorities. “We continue to appeal for the immediate release of the 15 who have now been in prison for some three months, after having gone through the terrible ordeal in Andijan,” says UNHCR’s Astrid van Genderen Stort, speaking from Geneva.

“It’s disgraceful and dismaying,” says the London director for Human Rights Watch, Steve Crawshaw, “that there is still no international attempt to address the horror of what took place. The facts are undeniable, and the response is foolish, cynical or both. We come across this notion among governments of Europe, including the British presidency of the EU, that there shouldn’t be too much pressure on Uzbekistan in case something worse happens; but what more does it take than a massacre? If the EU looks away after the foreign ministers meet again in October, that would be more than shameful.”

After we have finished talking in Romania, a young man comes forward, alone. His father was among the four deported back from Kyrgyzstan, and there is no information on whether he is alive or not. His sister-in-law visited him in Kyrgyzstan to tell him that on June 13 he became a father. “The boy is called Fathullo,” says the young man, “but I have no idea what he looks like, or whether I will ever see him.”

“We are ordinary people,” says Timur. “Shoemakers, traders, workers. And all we want is to go back, when it is safe. Wherever we go, we will work hard, but we believe that as night follows day, so day follows night; that this is night, and day must again dawn in Uzbekistan.”

Indeed, it is now morning. These conversations have lasted hours and hours, and a group of us is standing beside a pile of chopped and meticulously arranged kindling, in preparation for winter. “I’m not convinced about this dawn,” says a hitherto silent man at the back. He stares not at Timur, but at me. “We are free to speak here; if we went home we would be silenced. So we tell you about what happened – but words remain words, and nothing happens”.

State of fear … Uzbekistan

The regime

President Islam Abduganievich Karimov, 67, runs a dictatorship with electoral windowdressing: on any ballot, only approved candidates appear. The republic’s post- Soviet leadership stands accused of torture, show trials, disappearances – and butchery. On May 14, he warned potential protesters, “a bullet will not choose who it shoots”.

US links

The US pays $15m a year to the Karimov regime to site a military air base in southern Uzbekistan towards the Afghan border, in pursuit of its battle against the Taliban and al-Qaida. But Karimov recently gave it notice to quit by January 2006 – whether due to criticism from Islamists or because of US noises about human rights is unclear.

British links

The Foreign Office says Britain “bilaterally and with EU partners, regularly and repeatedly draws its concern about the human rights situation in Uzbekistan to senior-level attention within the Uzbek government”. When a British ambassador to Tashkent, Craig Murray, asked in 2002 why the UK continued to support such a regime, he faced disciplinary proceedings. Britain remains a significant buyer of Uzbek cotton and metals, but corruption and instability are causing western investors to back away.

Thanks to everyone who logged on on the 1st Spetember as part of the day of blogging on Uzbekistan. The book chapter preview is now no longer available on this site but we will continue to post news on the book, its publication, and any further attempts by the UK government to ban it.

Roundups of the many posting on Uzbekistan that took place yesterday can be found here and here.

Tomorrow is independence day in Uzbekistan and will be marked by an international day of blogging on the call for sanctions and how to affect positive change in the country.

A pledgebank list was established to help solidify support for the idea and we are pleased to let you know that the list target has now been exceeded. However, there is still time to sign up or just take part!

A 20 second reminder of why this is a good idea.

US journalist David Corn comments on the White House’s silence on Uzbekistan – an American administration more than capable of being loud and undiplomatic – as the regime victimises witnesses to the massacres in May.

From www.davidcorn.com.

While Bush has been busy rah-rahing his war for freedom in Iraq, has anyone heard him refer to the Uzbekistan massacre that occurred in May, in which perhaps up to a 1000 civilians were gunned down by the military goons of strongman Islam Karimov? No, Bush and his top officials have not said much about this human rights abuse, which is probably the worst attack of this sort since the Tiananmen Square massacre. Karimov has canceled his agreement with Washington regarding an important US military base there (which probably was the reason for Bush’s low-volume reaction to the massacre), but Karimov’s decision has not apparently caused Bush to feel freer to denounce Karimov. (The base is still being used, and perhaps the White House hopes to work out a deal with Karimov.) It’s no surprise that much of the world dismisses Bush’s pro-freedom rhetoric, given that he has much to say about freedom in some places and little to say about freedom in other places.

What reminded me of Bush’s inadequate reaction to the Uzbekistan massacre is a piece by Anne Penketh in today’s Independent. It starts:

‘Uzbek authorities have jailed hundreds of people and forced them to confess to links to Islamists to justify the army crackdown on peaceful demonstrators last May that left 500 people dead, The Independent has learnt.

‘Human Rights Watch reports that witnesses of the massacre in the eastern city of Andizhan and relatives of the victims, have been rounded up and jailed for between 10 to 15 days on fabricated charges. “They are severely beaten and tortured until they sign statements confessing to being members of radical Islamic groups,” a researcher for the group who has just visited the central Asian region said.

‘The authoritarian government of President Islam Karimov has refused all calls for an international inquiry into the worst massacre of civilians by an army since China’s 1994 crackdown in Tiananmen Square.

‘Despite eyewitness accounts contradicting the government version, the Uzbek authorities continue to insist that the army was forced to act on 13 May to put down an attempt by radical extremist Muslims to overthrow it. Human Rights Watch fears that the jailing and coercion of “hundreds, or even thousands” of people is a deliberate tactic aimed at bolstering the government’s case. It appears that some have been so intimidated that they have readily confessed to having been manipulated by the radicals.’

I’m not expecting Bush to address this latest human rights tragedy in Uzbekistan. After all, being consistent on such matters can be hard work.

Published in The Economist on 25th August

ON MAY 13th, the authorities in Uzbekistan opened fire on a peaceful demonstration of close to 10,000 people in the eastern city of Andijan, probably killing several hundred of them and possibly as many as 1,000. According to survivors, tanks rolled through the main square, firing indiscriminately, snipers picked off their victims from convenient buildings, and, later on, soldiers shot some of the wounded dead. That was three months ago. Since then, the European Union and America have expressed their horror at the worst massacre of demonstrators since Tiananmen Square by imposing the following sanctions on Uzbekistan:

Weary observers of realpolitik might think that they have seen it all before: that the democracies often enough turn a blind eye to misdeeds of dictators like Uzbekistan’s Islam Karimov when it suits them. But this is something special. On few, if any, occasions since the cold war has so little been done by so many in the face of such atrocity. At least China was thrown into the diplomatic ice-box for a few years after Tiananmen, and the arms embargo imposed on it is largely intact 16 years on. Myanmar remains a pariah even among pariahs’in both cases for misdeeds on about the same scale as Andijan. America claims that it is indeed pondering sanctions, but awaiting Europe’s lead. This not a widely noted feature of its foreign policy these days, but there is a kind of sense behind it. A former member of the Soviet Union, Uzbekistan is a part of the widest of Europe’s concentric circles. It is a member of the European Bank for Reconstruction and Development, and it has a partnership and co-operation agreement (PCA) with the EU. So there is some justification in allowing Europe, with its famous common foreign and security policy, to take the lead.

If so, the European Union has risen to the occasion as grandly as it did over Bosnia, Iraq and on so many other occasions: with a display of spinelessness worthy of a sea full of jellyfish. First, in June, it demanded that Uzbekistan submit to an international investigation to determine precisely what happened in Andijan. Failure to comply by July 1st, it terrifyingly threatened, might lead to a ‘partial suspension’ of the PCA. Some countries wanted to go so far as to threaten a visa ban for (some) Uzbek officials and possibly even an arms embargo’but that was reckoned to be a bit too tough.

July 1st came and went, as did August 1st. Still the EU has done nothing. It has tried to send a ranking bureaucrat, one Jan Kubis, to take a look: but Uzbekistan has refused to let him go to Andijan. Fortunately, outfits such as Human Rights Watch, the Institute for War and Peace Reporting and the Organisation for Security and Co-operation in Europe have proved more enterprising than Mr Kubis’so there is no excuse to be made that the EU does not have a pretty good idea of what happened. The latest word is that the issue of Uzbekistan may be looked at when the EU’s foreign ministers meet in Wales on September 1st. But it is not even certain that the massacre of about 500 people by one of Europe’s associates will merit a discussion there. Meanwhile, the Uzbek government is pressing ahead with its own investigation of what happened on May 13th. This involves beating ‘confessions’ out of demonstrators who are made to say that they carried weapons to the square, and forcing neighbouring Kirgizstan to send Uzbek refugees back before they can tell any more tales to journalists, NGO workers, or even Mr Kubis.

But doesn’t the West ignore equally grisly abuses in Chechnya? Yes, but there it can at least be argued that friendship with Russia is in its vital interest. Friendship with Uzbekistan is not. Uzbekistan has gas, but it is not very accessible to westerners. And until now America has had an airbase, but others in the region will do just as well. The failure to punish Mr Karimov discredits the West, and provides ammunition to its enemies. It has gone on for far too long.

As we approach September 1st, the day of international blogging on Uzbekistan and the call for sanctions against cotton exports, we are posting the following excerpt from Chapter 12 of Craig Murray’s forthcoming book.

After leaving Ergashev, I said goodbye to Vakhida, who left in a police car for the airport, to fly back and work for Nick. I would be without an interpreter for the rest of the day, but would be joined by a professional one in the morning in Namangan, to which city we were due to head that night. I judged we still had plenty of time to visit the University, and told Gafur so. He was standing smoking and chatting with the escorting policemen. They looked dubious and called the Deputy Hokkim, who had repaired to a nearby chaikhana while I was with Ergashev.

“Please, Mr Ambassador,” he said, “it is late, and it is dangerous to drive to Namangan after dark.”

“It’s not that late. An hour at the university and we can be away by five.”

“But I believe we are not expected now at the University.”

My hackles were beginning to rise.

“Well, think what a pleasant surprise it will be for them.”

The deputy gave a wan smile, and got back into his Daewoo Maxima, which had dark pleated curtains at the windows. I climbed into the back of my Discovery; it seemed strangely empty now, with only Gafur and I in it. The police cars started off and we followed. After about twenty minutes, we were heading out of town.

“Gafur, where are we going?”, I asked.

“This is the road to Namangan, ambassador.”

“Is the university this way?”

“No, Ambassador.”

“Do you know where the University is?”

“Yes, I think so.” I had explained to the Embassy drivers that, within reason, they should always reconnoitre the day’s calls in the early morning or the evening before.

“Then stop.”

“Sorry, Ambassador?”

“STOP! We’re going to the university.”

Obviously impressed by the drama of the moment, Gafur slammed on the brakes and we slewed to a halt. The lead police car and the Hokkim’s Daewoo carried on ahead of us, turning round a corner. The police car behind had to brake quickly, and the doors opened as the police got out to see what the problem was. Gafur, having halted, was turned round looking quizzically at me.

“The university, Gafur. Drive to the university.”

“OK, sir”

It was a wide road, and Gafur spun the Discovery round. We sped off, leaving the puzzled policemen standing in the street staring at us. Gafur had worked out we were giving the escort the slip, because he drove like crazy through the streets of Ferghana. The escort caught up with us again just as we pulled up in front of the university. I waited for the deputy hokkim on the steps. He simply gave me a wan smile. I wanted to go straight to the English department, but he insisted that we should first call on the Rector. I was happy to concede that one.

The university building was a large brick edifice that would not have looked out of place in any British provincial university. The Rector was sour-faced and unwelcoming, and we endured fifteen minutes of stilted conversation over tea. We then walked down to the English centre, our footsteps echoing from the vaulted ceilings. The most striking thing about the University was that it was so devoid of life ‘ there seemed to be virtually no-one around.

In the English language centre I met two charming old ladies who taught there. They showed me with great pride the books they had been given by the British Council, and their cataloguing system. The only thing that worried me was that they all appeared to be neatly on the shelves, as opposed to being used by students. I had another cup of tea with the old ladies and two part-time students who had come in. They all said how delighted they were to meet a genuine English speaker. Their standard was very good, given that none of them had ever visited an English speaking country. They asked me about Big Ben and why the English are so fond of gardening. I asked them where everybody was, which brought a moment’s silence and no real answer.

The authorities had not wanted me to visit the University because of its resemblance to the Marie Celeste. I was later to discover the answer to the question, where has everyone gone? They were all in the fields picking cotton.

Even the massive labour forces held on the state farms are insufficient when it comes to harvest time. So other forced labour is drafted in. Staff and students are brought in from colleges and universities, which are effectively closed for the entire autumn term. An able-bodied university or college student will expect normally to spend two months in the cotton fields. Older schoolchildren will do the same, and even children as young as eight might expect to spend two or three weeks in the fields. Civil servants and even factory workers can also be drafted as the size of the harvest and weather conditions dictate.

Conditions can be appalling. The workers sleep in the fields, or in rough barracks. Sanitation is poor, food consists of a bare gruel, and water is taken straight from irrigation canals. The harvest regularly lasts through into October or early November, when temperatures can drop below freezing. Each farm and each region had its quota to produce in the State five year economic plan, and managers and hokkims were under extreme pressure to fulfil their quota.

Those drafted in for the harvest are not paid, but they are, for the most part, very successfully brainwashed by constant propaganda on television and radio, in newspapers and on banners and posters about harvesting the nation’s “White gold”. It is chilling to hear a bedraggled ten year old in a field talking about their patriotic duty to pick cotton to fund the nation’s independence.

Washington Post, Understanding Uzbekistan’s Snub By JIM HOAGLAND, August 8, 2005

If you can supply energy to world markets, do you really need the U.S.

and its conflicting priorities and bureaucracies, and all that yammering about human rights and democracy? For Islam A. Karimov, the dictatorial ruler of Uzbekistan, the answer is a big NO.

Mr. Karimov’s recent order to the U.S. to cease operations at the K-2 air base and pull its troops out of his Central Asian republic within six months came only after he had reached new understandings on energy and other subjects with the leaders of China, Russia and his immediate neighbors. Tyrant and butcher Mr. Karimov may be; fool he is not.

Mr. Karimov received assent or encouragement from Russian President Vladimir Putin and from China to stick his thumb in Uncle Sam’s eye by closing the base, a move that complicates the resupply of U.S. troops in Afghanistan. That makes the U.S.-Uzbek rupture more than a diplomatic spat over human rights. It becomes a focus for global strategy as well, raising serious questions about the Bush administration’s ability to sustain an American military presence in Central Asia.

Settling on a strategy toward Mr. Karimov alone was not that difficult for Washington. Superpowers have a history of cutting adrift once useful bloodstained dictators. But charting why Mr. Putin is now asking President Bush to set a timetable for U.S. withdrawal from Central Asia is a far bigger, still unfolding task.

So is reconciling the meaning of a U.S. commitment to democracy and human rights abroad with the demands of the global war on terrorism and the energy-dominant global economy. While principles remain

constant, the reflexes developed during the Cold War seem insufficient today.

Mr. Karimov became an embarrassing partner for Washington following the police massacres of hundreds of civilians in the town of Andijan on May 13. He refused to respond to public U.S. demands for an

independent international investigation. The speed and the studied shrug with which Washington greeted the Uzbek president’s expulsion seem to reflect not only a bowing to Uzbek sovereignty but also an assessment that Mr. Karimov’s political viability is running on empty. The former Soviet bureaucrat is playing a losing and possibly short-lived hand at home, in this view.

He superficially resembles a 21st century Mobutu Sese Seko, Ferdinand Marcos or Erich Honecker. Those Cold War-era satraps became more trouble than they were worth to their superpower patrons when they were openly repudiated by their own people. Communicating their expendability was often more a matter of calculation than of conscience.

Because the U.S. is reaching so deeply into the former Soviet sphere of influence to fight Islamic extremism, Washington does not have wholly owned “SOBs” of its own there. Actions or words from Washington that undermine Mr. Karimov (or his autocratic neighbors) also affect Mr. Putin’s hold on power in the Kremlin in a direct way.

This makes Washington’s support for human rights abroad a more complex but even more important undertaking than it was in the Cold War. How other nations, and particularly Islamic nations, treat their

citizens is today the substance, not just the form, of international relations.

A number of people have questioned me on the call in my recent Guardian article for sanctions against the Uzbek cotton industry. Several have pointed to the disastrous effects of sanctions against Iraq.

My proposal relates only to cotton, so is of course much more targeted than the sanctions against Iraq.

The Uzbek cotton industry is a disastrous aberration created by Soviet central planning. Over 80% of the loss of water from the Aral Sea is due to irrigation for the Uzbek cotton industry, so it is responsible for one of the World’s greatest environmental disasters. On most agricultural land in Uzbekistan, cotton has been grown as a monoculture for fifty years, with no rotation. This of course exhausts the soil and encourages pests. As a result the cotton industry employs massive quantities of pesticide and fertiliser. As a result it is not just that the Aral Sea is disappearing, but that and fertiliser.y years, with no rotation.the whole area of the former sea suffers appalling pollution, reflected in appalling levels of disease.

Uzbek farm workers are tied to the farm. They need a propusk (visa) to move away ‘ which they won’t get. The state farm worker normally gets two dollars a month. Their living and nutritional standards would improve greatly if, rather than grow cotton, they had a little area to grow subsistence crops. What follows is the executive summary from the International Crisis Group report on Central Asian cotton of March 2005.

EXECUTIVE SUMMARY

(e) expand fair trade programs to include cotton and cotton products.

It is fair to note that the ICG’s recommendations do not include a boycott. But I am afraid to say that there is politically no chance at all that the Karimov regime would voluntarily go along with any of the key recommendations. Compulsion is needed to force change, and a boycott is the way to attain that.

The object of a cotton boycott would be not just to obtain reform of the cotton industry, but to attack the income of the Karimov elite and thus break up their political alliances. I should be quite open about this ‘ action is needed to produce early political change in Uzbekistan.

See also my speech “The Trouble With Uzbekistan” on this website.

Sanctions should be imposed on Uzbekistan’s repugnant regime

By Craig Murray writing in The Guardian

President Karimov of Uzbekistan has served notice to quit on the US base in his country. This completes a process of diplomatic revolution as Karimov turns away from the west and back into the embrace of Russia, with coy sideways glances at China. The US is trying to cover its retreat behind a smokescreen of belated concern for human-rights abuse in Uzbekistan. Suddenly one of their most intensively courted allies has been discovered – shock horror – to be an evil dictator. (Remember Saddam?) But the reality is much more complex.

The first and most obvious point is that the US didn’t jump, it was pushed. The Andijan massacre of May 13, in which at least 600 demonstrators were killed, was carried out by Uzbek forces that in 2002 alone received $120m in US aid for the army and $82m for the security services. Prior to Karimov kicking it out, there was no indication at all that the US was going to review its military links with Uzbekistan – in fact General Richard Myers had specifically stated that they would continue.

In March this year the British army sent a team to Samarkand to teach the Uzbek military marksmanship. We have not said we will stop either. Nor has there been any indication that we will stop the practice whereby the Uzbek security services share with the CIA and MI6 the so-called intelligence extracted from Karimov’s torture chambers. So much for the pretence of moral repugnance.

At Termez in southern Uzbekistan there is another, less noticed, western airbase. It is leased by Germany. The Germans are not seeking to withdraw. Of all western ministers, the most frequent guest in Uzbekistan, who most uncritically praises the regime, is Joschka Fischer, the trendy German foreign minister.

The EU general affairs council, chaired by Jack Straw, responded to the Andijan massacre by announcing that it would, for a short time, “suspend further deepening” of the EU-Uzbek cooperation agreement. I can recognise FCO drafting when I see it – such an elegant phrase. You have to read it twice to realise that it precisely means “do nothing”.

Karimov has never intended to move Uzbekistan towards democracy or the free market. His very limited experimentation with attracting western investment in the mid-1990s convinced him that western-style capitalism was incompatible with containing all economic clout in the hands of his family and immediate cronies. Since then he has turned to Russian and Chinese state companies for investment.

The writing was really on the wall for US influence in central Asia when, at the end of last year, Karimov finally came off the fence and opted for Russia’s Gazprom rather than US firms to develop Uzbekistan’s massive gas fields. The decision calls into question the viability of the hydrocarbons pipeline over Afghanistan to the Arabian Sea, which has been the holy grail of US policy in central Asia since before the Afghan war. The deal was concluded between Karimov’s notoriously grasping daughter, Gulnara Karimova, and Alisher Usmanov, the Uzbek-born Russian oligarch who bought heavily into Corus (formed by the merger of British Steel and the Dutch company Hoogovens in 1999).

Many believe that a Karimova-Usmanov alliance is Karimov’s preferred succession strategy. But certainly Moscow resident Gulnara has had a vital influence on the reorientation of Uzbek foreign policy. She cannot enter the US, where there is a warrant for her arrest for contempt of court following a disputed divorce case.

The other key factor has been the “colour revolutions” in Ukraine, Georgia and Kyrgyzstan. Eduard Shevardnadze visited Karimov on being ousted and warned him against Soros and other NGOs. Karimov immediately kicked out the Open Society Institute and put crippling restrictions on other NGOs, setting his face against even token democracy. This helped the increasingly warm relationship with Vladimir Putin.

Karimov was, on the face of it, an unlikely man for Putin to embrace. After independence he had encouraged anti-Russian nationalist sentiment, and 80% of ethnic Russians – more than 2 million people – fled Uzbekistan.

But Putin and Karimov have in common an intolerance of opposition, a contempt for free media, and a desire to stem the spread of democracy. Karimov’s policy of brutally eliminating opponents while accusing them all of Islamic extremism has obvious parallels with Putin’s policy in Chechnya.

Where does this leave the regional power game? Uzbekistan has half the population of central Asia, a dominant geostrategic position and the region’s largest and best-equipped armed forces. But to the north, Kazakhstan, under President Nazarbayev, has far outstripped Karimov in economic performance, and not only because of greater hydrocarbon resources. He has kept a balance between Russia and the west, and the economy is relatively open, with much more western investment.

The future of Kazakhstan looks relatively bright. In fact one of the key factors in Karimov’s soaring unpopularity is that Kazakhs, once despised poor cousins, are now much wealthier.

But the prospects for Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan are bleak. They are tiny, mountainous countries with few viable natural resources. The US still has a viable airbase in Kyrgyzstan. Karimov, backed by Russia and China in the Shanghai cooperation council, is likely to exert massive pressure on them to also turn away from the west. If they are to be able to resist this, a huge effort will be required by western countries and international agencies.

So what happens now in Uzbekistan? As the world’s powers wheel and spin, the plight of the Uzbek population deepens. Karimov’s appalling policies keep his people in ever-greater poverty, effectively a slave-labour force working, most of them on state farms, for the enrichment of his family and cronies. The economy is heavily dependent on massive production of cotton, the revenue from which brings almost no economic benefit to the wretches who pick it in conditions of serfdom.

We should be seeking to shorten Uzbekistan’s misery, not to extend it. It is the world’s second largest exporter of cotton. Citing the use of child and serf labour, concerted trade sanctions against Uzbek cotton and textiles containing Uzbek cotton should be the way forward. Given the self-interest of the very powerful US cotton lobby and the new frost in US-Uzbek relations, this might even be achievable.

Craig Murray was the British ambassador to Uzbekistan between 2002 and 2004

Further thoughts on the US expulsion from Uzbekistan

The US will be keen to emphasise recent disagreement over Andizhan/refugees, to try to retain some dignity. But the causes in fact are much deeper, and relate to the failure of a policy of constructive engagement with a regime that is more recalcitrant even than Lukashenko, and was never going to reform.

The US tried for too long to paper over the cracks and argue in international fora that Karimov was reforming and just needed time. I believe that, for a while, wishful thinking led the US actually to believe this.

The result was a position, particularly on defence and intelligence co-operation, that became untenable and appeared to expose a massive hypocrisy at the centre of the Bush doctrine of spreading democracy and freedom.

It is I think important to realise that for Karimov it was the threat of economic freedom, not just political freedom, which turned him away from the US. Uzbekistan is much closer to a North Korean insular model than the South East Asian model that the US seemed to mistake it for.

The policy of constructive engagement (or “critical engagement” to use Jack Straw’s phrase) was myopic, morally corrupting, visibly hypocritical and unsustainable. Let us hope it is now buried.

Craig Murray

By Andrew Osborn writing in the Independent

The United States has been given six months to shut its airbase in the central Asian state of Uzbekistan in an ultimatum that is a snub to Washington and a boost for Russia which has been deeply uneasy about the presence of the US military in an area it considers its back yard.

Washington was served notice at the weekend at its embassy in Tashkent, the Uzbek capital, and unless it can persuade the autocratic regime of Islam Karimov to change its mind it will have to close the base known as Karshi-Khanabad or “K2”, within 180 days and withdraw the thousands of military personnel. K2 was established after the 9/11 attacks in the US and is used to fly humanitarian and military missions into nearby Afghanistan.

America has paid $15m (‘8.5m) in rent since 2001 when it opened and it was keen to extend its lease. But Russia wants the US military out of the former Soviet central Asia.

And America has been under enormous pressure from human rights groups to condemn the Karimov regime for a massacre of opposition figures and ordinary civilians in May. The US State Department has irked Tashkent by calling for an international inquiry (Moscow says no such inquiry is necessary). But Britain’s former ambassador to Tashkent, Craig Murray, said the move was driven by a desire to keep control of the Uzbek economy in local and Russian hands.

“This is about the Karimov regime’s decision to turn to Gazprom and the Russians, not the US, to develop Uzbekistan’s oil and gas,” he said. “This deal was brokered between the President’s daughter, Gulnara Karimova, and Alisher Usmanov, the Uzbek-born Russian who bought 27 per cent of Corus [British Steel]).”

“They were concerned that Western companies could build centres of wealth not under their direct control. They have decided to turn to Russian and Chinese state companies for investment.”

The Pentagon has been given six months to quit as Washington’s relations with hardline dictator sour in wake of civilian massacre

By Nick Paton Walsh writing in The Guardian

Uzbekistan has given the US six months to close its military base there, in its first move to sever relations with its former sponsor.

The air base near the southern town of Khanabad, known as K2, was opened weeks after the September 11 attacks to provide vital logistical support for Operation Enduring Freedom in neighbouring Afghanistan.

Analysts have said that Uzbekistan agreed to the base, the first Pentagon presence in what is a former Soviet stronghold of central Asia, because of a large US aid package and Washington’s silence about the country’s appalling human rights record.

A US defence department spokesman said at the weekend: “We got a note at the US embassy in Tashkent on Friday; the gist of it was that we have 180 days to cease operations at the K2 airfield.”

He added that the defence and state departments were evaluating “the exact nature” of the request. “K2 has been an important asset for the war in Afghanistan,” he said. “We will have to evaluate what to do next.”

The US presence in Uzbekistan has been under intense moral scrutiny after the massacre by Uzbek troops of hundreds of civilians in the southern city of Andijan in May.

The White House was at first muted in its criticism of the massacre, but the state department has grown increasingly vocal in condemning the attack and calling for an independent investigation.

The Pentagon has sought to renew the leasing agreement for the base, for which it has paid $15m to the regime of President Islam Karimov since 2001.

Critics have accused the US of propping up one of the world’s most brutal regimes in exchange for the base’s short-term benefits. The Uzbek authorities are accused of killing and jailing ordinary Muslims under the guise of fighting religious extremism and terrorism, and the state department says torture is used by police in Uzbekistan as a “routine investigation technique”.

A former British ambassador to Uzbekistan, Craig Murray, who was sacked after criticising western support for the Uzbek regime, said: “The US has managed to hand the dictator Karimov the propaganda coup of kicking out the world’s greatest power. Western policy towards Uzbekistan has been unsustainable for a long time.”

He said the Uzbek decision to curtail relations with Washington was “due to a change-around in economic policy. There has been no significant investment from the west for a while; it’s all Russian and Chinese state-owned companies.”

“Karimov took the decision years ago not to have democracy and capitalism, it just took the US a lot longer to work that out.

“If they had any dignity they would have jumped before they were pushed.”

He said the move would put pressure on other central Asian states to turn away from the west, towards China and Russia, because of their reliance on Uzbekistan’s resources.

Uzbekistan’s demand for the Americans to leave the base prompted a senior state department official to cancel a planned visit to the capital, Tashkent, according to the New York Times.

R Nicholas Burns, the undersecretary of state for political affairs, was due to hold negotiations about the future of the base with the Karimov regime, and was to echo demands for an international investigation into the Andijan massacre.

The Uzbek government continues to maintain that 187 people in Andijan, mostly criminals, were killed when troops suppressed a prison breakout. Human rights groups say unarmed protesters were fired on, the injured were killed, and that up to 800 people may have died.

The New York Times also quoted a senior state department official as saying that the Uzbek demand was connected to US support for neighbouring Kyrgyzstan’s refusal to send home those who had fled Uzbekistan after the Andijan massacre.

The US secretary of state, Condoleezza Rice, has phoned the Kyrgyz government about 29 of those who fled, now being held in the southern city of Osh, and asked that they be ferried out by the UN to a neutral third country.

Her intervention sparked the Uzbek demand for the base to be closed, the official said.

Craig Murray comments on the latest developments:

“Let us hope that finally the Bush administration will now recognise the true nature of the Karimov regime. It is symptomatic of the complete failure of Western policy in Central Asia that rather than withdraw with some dignity, the US has managed to hand the dictator Karimov the propaganda coup of kicking out the World’s greatest power.”

“This is not about the response to the Andizhan massacre. To the end the US was muted on human rights in Uzbekistan and still has not called for full elections including the opposition. This is about the Karimov regime’s decision to turn to Gazprom and the Russians, not the US, to develop Uzbekistan’s oil and gas fields. This deal involves Uzbekneftegas and was brokered between the President’s daughter, Gulnara Karimova, and Alisher Usmanov, the Uzbek born Russian oligarch who bought 27% of Corus (British Steel).”

“The Karimov regime are determined to keep complete control of the economy so they can continue their massive looting for personal enrichment. They were concerned that Western companies could build centres of wealth not under their direct control. They have therefore decided to turn to Russian and Chinese state companies for investment. These companies operate the system of oligarch corruption that the Karimov regime understands.”

“This is the explanation for Central Asia’s “Diplomatic Revolution” as Uzbekistan turns decisively away from the USA towards Russia and China. There will now be massive pressure by Karimov on Tajikistan and Kirghizstan – both tiny countries dependent on Uzbekistan for energy supplies – to follow suit.”

By Robin Wright and Ann Scott Tyson writing in the

Washington Post

Uzbekistan formally evicted the United States yesterday from a military base that has served as a hub for combat and humanitarian missions to Afghanistan since shortly after the attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, Pentagon and State Department officials said yesterday.

In a highly unusual move, the notice of eviction from Karshi-Khanabad air base, known as K2, was delivered by a courier from the Uzbek Foreign Ministry to the U.S. Embassy in Tashkent, said a senior U.S. administration official involved in Central Asia policy. The message did not give a reason. Uzbekistan will give the United States 180 days to move aircraft, personnel and equipment, U.S. officials said.

If Uzbekistan follows through, as Washington expects, the United States will face several logistical problems for its operations in Afghanistan. Scores of flights have used K2 monthly. It has been a landing base to transfer humanitarian goods that then are taken by road into northern Afghanistan, particularly to Mazar-e Sharif — with no alternative for a region difficult to reach in the winter. K2 is also a refueling base with a runway long enough for large military aircraft. The alternative is much costlier midair refueling.

Defense Secretary Donald H. Rumsfeld returned this week from Central Asia, where he won assurances from Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan that the United States can use their bases for operations in Afghanistan. U.S. forces use Tajikistan for emergency landings and occasional refueling, but it lacks good roads into Afghanistan. Kyrgyzstan does not border Afghanistan.

“We always think ahead. We’ll be fine,” Rumsfeld said Sunday when asked how the United States would cope with losing the base in Uzbekistan.

In May, however, Pentagon spokesman Bryan Whitman called access to the airfield “undeniably critical in supporting our combat operations” and humanitarian deliveries. The United States has paid $15 million to Uzbek authorities for use of the airfield since 2001, he said.

Yesterday, Pentagon spokesman Lawrence T. Di Rita said that the U.S. military does not depend on one base in any part of the world. “We’ll be able to conduct our operations as we need to, regardless of how this turns out. It’s a diplomatic issue at the moment,” Di Rita said.

The eviction notice came four days before a senior State Department official was to arrive in Tashkent for talks with the government of President Islam Karimov. The relationship has been increasingly tense since bloody protests in the province of Andijan in May, the worst unrest since Uzbekistan gained independence from the Soviet Union.

Undersecretary of State R. Nicholas Burns was going to pressure Tashkent to allow an international investigation into the Andijan protests, which human rights groups and three U.S. senators who met with eyewitnesses said killed about 500 people. Burns was also going to warn the government, one of the most authoritarian in the Islamic world, to open up politically — or risk the kind of upheavals witnessed recently in Ukraine, Georgia and Kyrgyzstan, U.S. officials said.

Karimov has balked at an international probe. As U.S. pressure mounted, he cut off U.S. night flights and some cargo flights, forcing Washington to move search-and-rescue operations and some cargo flights to Bagram air base in Afghanistan and Manas air base in Kyrgyzstan. As relations soured, the Bush administration was preparing for a further cutoff, U.S. officials said.

The United States was given the notice just hours after 439 Uzbek political refugees were flown out of neighboring Kyrgyzstan — over Uzbek objections — by the United Nations. The refugees fled after the May unrest, which Uzbek officials charged was the work of terrorists. The Bush administration had been pressuring Kyrgyzstan not to force the refugees to return to Uzbekistan.

Uzbekistan has been widely viewed as an important test for the Bush administration — and whether the anti-terrorism efforts or promotion of democracy takes priority. “We all knew basically that if we really wanted to keep access to the base, the way to do it was to shut up about democracy and turn a blind eye to the refugees,” said the senior official, on the condition of anonymity because of the sensitive diplomacy. “We could have saved the base if we had wanted.”

After the latest setback in relations, the Bush administration is going to “wait for a cooling-off period,” the administration official said. “We are assuming they mean it and want us out. We are now not sending someone to Uzbekistan.”

The next test will be whether to withhold as much as $22 million in aid to Uzbekistan if it does not comply with provisions on political and economic reforms it committed to undertake in a 2002 strategic partnership agreement with Washington. Last year, the administration withheld almost $11 million. U.S. officials expect the Uzbek government will again be ineligible for funds.

“I welcome this decision by the EBRD, which is taking a strong lead among international institutions in taking seriously questions of democracy and human rights.

Craig Murray 30/07/05

EBRD Press Release (29/07/05)

The EBRD’s new two-year strategy for Uzbekistan concludes that while some economic progress has been made since its last strategy for the Central Asian country was published in 2003, there has been no comparable political liberalisation.

The previous strategy described Uzbekistan’s political and economic progress as slow and characterised by setbacks, and emphasised the importance of the Uzbek authorities taking a number of critical steps to put the country on a path of sustained progress towards multi-party democracy and a market economy. In 2004, the Bank restricted its activity to private-sector projects as well as public-sector operations that either linked Uzbekistan economically to other countries in the region or clearly benefited ordinary citizens, such as by improving a town’s water supply.

The Bank’s new strategy notes that economic progress has been achieved in two areas since 2003 – current-account convertibility and adjustment of tariffs in public utilities – but says there has been no progress in Uzbekistan’s political environment.

As a result, the Bank has decided not to initiate any new projects in the public sector during the new country strategy period. It will focus on supporting private-sector development and entrepreneurship, particularly SMEs and micro-business, provided that there is no direct or indirect link to the government or government officials. For example, the Bank is considering the possibility of establishing a microfinance bank and expanding its leasing operation. The Bank will also continue to support trade through its Trade Facilitation Programme.

Equally, the EBRD will continue its efforts to engage in policy dialogue with the authorities, working for improvement in the investment climate and supporting reform efforts. Only reforms can unlock Uzbekistan’s significant economic potential and allow the Bank to operate on a full-fledged basis. The events in Andijan in May, resulting in the indiscriminate use of force against civilians, as documented in various reports, including this month’s report by the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights, were a cause of serious concern for the Bank.

The EBRD, which has invested ?509.5 million in Uzbekistan, has had a lower level of commitments in recent years as a result of the country’s unfavourable investment climate. In 2004 the Bank signed three projects for a combined ?34 million.

The transcript of a speech given by former UK ambassador to Uzbekistan Craig Murray at York University on the 24th February has just been added to the archive.

As British ambassador to Uzbekistan from 2002 to 2004, Craig Murray recommended that Britain stop cooperating with Uzbek security forces and stop using intelligence gleaned through torture. Criag Murray discusses his experiences in an interview with the Worldview programme of Chicago Public Radio broadcast on the 18th July.

Click here to hear the interview

You will need RealPlayer to listen. Downloaded it free from

The Guardian – UK trained Uzbek troops weeks before massacre: British military advisers trained Uzbek troops in “marksmanship” shortly before a massacre in which hundreds of people were killed.

A group of Uzbek military cadets were given a “coaching course” in marksmanship by British soldiers in February and March this year.

Forum 18 – UZBEKISTAN: Protestant tortured by police trying to force abandonment of Christianity: A Pentecostal Christian in the capital, Tashkent, has been tortured by police since being arrested on 14 June, and other church members have been summoned and threatened, Forum 18 News Service has learnt. 19-year-old Kural Bekjanov was tortured by both police officers and prisoners to try to force him to abandon Christianity. His mother, Gulya, saw him on 26 June, when he had lost weight, had difficulty walking and his fingers and legs were covered in blood. “His mother heard the cries of her own son and begged them to stop beating him,” Forum 18 was told. “They told her it wasn’t her son’s cries, but she said she knew the sound of her own son’s voice. Yesterday police threatened to put him on a chair wired up to the electricity ‘ believe me, all this is happening,” a church member told Forum 18. Protestants in Karakalpakstan, in north-west-Uzbekistan, the targets of a long running anti-Christian campaign by the authorities, have told Forum 18 of renewed difficulties in meeting. Elsewhere, the trial of six members of the Bethany Church in Tashkent has been fixed for 7 July, after police raided the church whilst a service was taking place.