Turkmenistan: a strategic country with a mysterious reality, by François d’Anglin, IRIS

Are you familiar with Turkmenistan and its leaders? If you attempt to ask your entourage this question, it will most likely be met with a grimace – uncertainty about its location, cultural heritage or even the extent of its wealth, despite being as large as our Iberian neighbour and the world’s third biggest gas reserve, being common.

The more loquacious on the subject of Turkmenistan will not talk to you about the richness of the Margu civilisation nor speak enthusiastically for hours about the Silk Road, but will recount with amusement and pleasure the escapades of the first president of the country, Saparmourat Turklenbashy le Grand (1991-2006). In under a decade, his eccentricity became known worldwide and contributed to the profit of the construction industries which thus succeeded in reconstructing the capital that had been built as a garrison city for the Tsar soldiers and was destroyed during the earthquake in October 1948[1], adapting it to his Stalino-Palladian taste.

Niyazov’s architectural and “literary” works greatly contributed to the regime and its leader’s recent notoriety, but also to the pleasure of commentators and entertainers in Great Britain and the United States. His flamboyant language has even attracted the attention of computer game producers (e.g. Tropico 3[2]), which Niyazov was fond of playing into the night at his Archabil palace.

Traditional dance in front of the Museum of Agriculture (© 2010 - F. d'Anglin)

This notoriety and totalitarian regime has even fuelled the imagination of cartoon writers and artists. The Tashkite Republic and its leader depicted by Smolderen and Bertail (Ghostmoney, Dargaud, 2008/2009[3]) naturally describes this corner of Central Asia, with its strategic Amourdarya boundaries and the Kopet dag mountain range that separates the country from its tempestuous Iranian and Afghan neighbours.

Today, even our most famous contemporary novelists are interested in Turkmenistan; Olivier Rolin in his last book, Bakou derniers jours, Seuil, Paris, 2010, pp 100-124, tells of his journey to the country of Roukhnama (Spirituality[4]), of an “Islamic-Disneyland heaven” and a capital that looks like an enormous theme park. Academician Jean-Christophe Rufin gave his latest principal heroine the task of laying the table at the Quai d’Orsay where the president of the Turkmen parliament and his wife are received (Katiba, Flammarion, Paris, 2010, p. 16). The creative liberty of the writer is, nevertheless, far from the reality. Since December 2006, the Meijlis (National Assembly) has been chaired by a woman, Mrs. Akja T. Nourberdiyeva[5]. The partners of those in power, however, do not participate in any of the official events in the country or abroad. Although the President Niyazov’s Russian spouse appeared in public from time to time, the same cannot be said about his predecessor’s wife. Her name or those of their children have never been mentioned by the Turkmen media – extremely peculiar in a country where the cult surrounding the personality of the Head of State is so strong! However, when a member of the President’s family is brought into the spotlight by propaganda, the “hero” is well dead[6]. This was the case with President Niyazov’s parents and two brothers, or even, more recently, in 2009, when a secondary school in Achgabat was named after President Berdymouhamedov’s grandfather who was presented as an example for its teachers.

This devotion to one’s elders contributes to the hyper-presidentialisation of the regime, with the country being run like the khanates of the past, but also adds to its lack of transparency.

Everything is a secret in Turkmenistan – from the list of the thousands of prisoners that Amnesty International, Forum 18 or Human Rights Watch struggle to identify to the list of the members of the government, although it is difficult to keep it up to date with ministers and vice-ministers constantly coming and going. The disappearance of President Niyazov has not changed this practice that has existed for over a decade. At this time, with the exception of Minister of Foreign Affairs, Rashid Meredov, all those in possession of a portfolio, who were appointed in 2007 after the election of President Berdymouhamedov, changed their title at least once.

Observers and cooperation actors are therefore confronted with the regime’s constant political-administrative instability, of which only the supreme leader has a hold. By renewing allegiances, it aims to rejuvenate the elite – none of the vice-presidents of the cabinet of ministers are over 50 years of age. However, what could prove to be more problematic in the long-run is that it is retreating inwards, building its power around its clan – the Tekkes of the Wilaya d’Ahal – and all those linked by marriage to the President and his wife. Within the state system, it would thus appear that many members of the government are or were linked to his family (e.g. the Secretary General of the Presidency, the Minister of Home Affairs and Education, the Vice-President of the Cabinet of Ministers in charge of cultural affairs, etc.) and more than two-thirds of them are from the Wilaya in the middle of the country. This reorganisation of power favours this region and therefore excludes from management jobs, the Tekkes de Mary, the Ersaris or even the Yomouts, who were traditionally very influential in the hydrocarbon industry.

For anyone outside the inner circle of power, the situation seems politically unintelligible. The recent publications by Sébastien Reyrouse (Turkménistan : Un destin au carrefours des empires, Belin, 2007, 183p) and Jean-Baptiste Jeangène – Vilmer (Turkménistan, Non Lieu, Paris, 2009, 237p) have enabled many to familiarise themselves with the Berdymouhamedov regime and what it is fond of hiding. These books are indeed not without gaps, but this is only natural when it comes to a country where no foreign humanitarian NGO is allowed to work[7] and which refuses to give visas to foreign researchers and journalists. Only a handful of Turkish journalists (Zaman) and Turkmen stringers have gained authorisation as correspondents of international press agencies (e.g. AFP, Reuter). Any other “curious ones” must use ploys, illegal informers or obtain a 5-day transit visa at an excessive price. The lack of transparency of the political sphere can also be applied to all economic and social areas. In Turkmenistan, it is impossible to obtain reliable information of any sort – a fact that hinders foreign investment but also appropriate decisions concerning domestic development. How can there be planning when the central and provincial leaders do not even know the size of the population under their responsibility? Until 2012 census is carried out, the mayor of the capital will continue to believe that he has a population of a million people to manage, which could easily turn out to be an overestimation of approximately 40%.

What is even worse is that the authorities refuse to admit truths about the entire population, for example, the huge underemployment rate among young people and minority groups, the rise of HIV or even the fact that Turkmenistan has become transit zone for drugs (heroine and opium) produced in Afghanistan, transported from the border, but also through Iranian Baluchistan or even Tajikistan via Uzbekistan.

All public policies are mishandled due to denial of the most basic realities, a lengthy decision-making process and a lack of transparence. They are implemented by government representatives that are as terrorised as they are badly trained. Emigration of Soviet elites and from the USSR Republics has highlighted these failures. The absence of massive investment in education and health policies, and especially human resources in these areas, has clouded the future. Life expectancy of Turkmens is only 59 for men and 67 for women.

In account of the wealth of the country, the worrying social indicators are only the result of a less than optimum distribution of budgetary resources. The country indeed spends absurd amounts of money on its prestige or questionable projects like Lake Altyn Asyr (Golden Century), inaugurated in July 2009, which, at the price of 5 billion dollars, is supposed to irrigate the dessert region of the centre of the country – an ambition reminiscent of the extravagant construction of the Karakoum canal, ordered by N. Khrouchtchev. These ostentatious, ecologically damaging, economically risky (ref. the touristic zone of Avza on the Caspian coast, the Achgabat Olympic park, etc.), socially unimportant initiatives tarnish the reformatory credibility of a political regime that gained from the death of a satrap, who governed the first years of independence with an iron hand. Maintaining the totalitarian iron collar is not conducive to the development of fundamental reforms, which should have been possible considering the strong economic growth of the last three years (2010: + 6.1%; 2009: 10.5%; 2008: 11.5%). The era of the “New new renaissance”, which has developed with the President Berdymouhamedov’s accession to power, certainly represents a shift from the worst political habits of his predecessor; the country has opened itself up to the world while reinstating its “perpetual neutrality”. It has introduced its first modest reforms (e.g. extension of compulsory education, monetary adjustment, the “deniyazovisation” of institutions, etc.) but these must be multiplied in order to achieve greater social and political justice, careful and efficient exploitation of the considerable gas resources and securely protect itself against peripheral threats (e.g. Islamic extremism, drug trafficking, etc.).

Aerial view of the capital, Ashgabat (© 2010 - F. d'Anglin)