Truth and Politics Collide in Kyrgyzstan

Now that not one but five formal inquiries have filed reports about the causes of ethnic violence in southern Kyrgyzstan last year, one would think a generally-agreed version of the truth would be starting to emerge.

Yet the Central Asian nation seems further away than ever from reaching a common understanding of what happened, who was behind the violence, and what it means for the future of the country.

Few people have read the published findings of the various inquiries, and most have instead seen only the highly-charged media reports about them. Biased readings of the reports are of more than academic importance, since are already colouring the political debate ahead of a presidential election set for October. (For an example of this, Kyrgyzstan Debates Rival Ethnic Policies.)

The result, analysts say, is that all the investigative work done to date has tended to confirm existing prejudices rather than encourage a desire to learn new facts and take alternative views on board, with a view to building reconciliation.

At an official level, investigative reports on the bloodshed have been produced by a special National Commission chaired by Abdygany Erkebaev; the Kyrgyzstan Inquiry Commission, KIC, an international group commissioned by President Roza Otunbaeva; the national human rights ombudsman’s office; and a parliamentary inquiry which resulted in two reports, a main one and an alternative version from the Ata-Jurt.

The National Security Committee – Kyrgyzstan intelligence agency – also carried out its own investigation, but that was for internal use only.

(See Deep Rifts Remain in Conflict-Torn Kyrgyz South on the Erkebaev report, and Kyrgyzstan Report Draws Shaky Line Under Violence on the international inquiry.)

There are in addition reports from watchdog organisations like Human Rights Watch, Amnesty International, and the Osh Initiative group, which consists of Uzbek and Kyrgyz human rights defenders.

All share the same common declared aim – to shed light on what happened, why it happened, and who was responsible.

Most agree on some basic facts – several days of fighting last June involving ethnic Kyrgyz and Uzbeks in and around Osh and Jalalabad left over 400 people dead and many more injured. Massive damage was done to homes and businesses as mobs engaged in arson and looting that targeted specific ethnic groups.

Beyond that, the reports vary in focus and approach, some examining human rights abuses in detail, others looking more at the political causes of conflict. Accounts of what led to the outbreak of violence and who was behind it differ materially.

Pavel Dyatlenko, a political analyst with the Polis Asia think-tank, sees the Erkebaev commission’s report as primarily a political statement.

“The National Commission’s report tries not to describe the conflict as an ethnic one,” he said. “It identifies the principal culprits as [Uzbek community leader] Qodirjon Batirov and his associates; former head of state [Kurmanbek] Bakiev – who had already left the country at the time – and his associates; and ‘third forces’ including mercenaries from abroad.

In doing so, he said, the commission was merely “nominating convenient culprits”.

By contrast, the KIC said the provisional government that replaced Bakiev failed to address the marked deterioration in ethnic relations in the south, and once the conflict began, its security forces failed to intervene adequately, and parts of them may even have been complicit.

The commission detailed a series of orchestrated attacks on specifically Uzbek neighbourhoods, and noted that three-quarters of those killed were Uzbeks.

According to Dyatlenko, reports by the KIC and by international human rights groups “talk about systemic problems that have endured over the last 20 years, place blame on the interim government and law-enforcement agencies, and report more extensively on the suffering of the Uzbek section of the population”.

Politicians in Kyrgyzstan rounded on the commission and its chairman Kimmo Kiljunen. The government said the international team missed out crucial elements in the chain of events, and was wrong to assert that Uzbeks suffered disproportionately. The parliamentary commission conducting its own investigation accused Kiljunen’s team of ignoring the roles played by Uzbek community leaders, supporters of ousted president Bakiev, and organised criminals.

The KIC’s expressed view that some of the abuses it identified in Osh would, if proved in a court of law, constitute crimes against humanity as defined by international conventions, were particularly badly received.

Azimbek Beknazarov, the president’s representative in parliament, told legislators on June 3 that the KIC was “exaggerating” by suggesting that “a Kyrgyz mob entered Uzbek neighbourhoods and committed a crime against humanity”.

On May 26, parliament voted by a large majority to declare Kiljunen persona grata in Kyrgyzstan, saying the the KIC report was one-sided and a threat to national security. (Kiljunen’s reaction to this can be read in "Banned" Investigator Regrets Kyrgyz Probe Response.)

Political analyst Mars Sariev, who does not regard any of the reports as truly objective, says the establishment in Kyrgyzstan has an “survival instinct” that manifests itself in hostility towards criticisms of its failings.

Meanwhile, ahead of the October election, politicians and their parties have been trying to get mileage out of the various reports by making selective use of the findings in order to win populist support for themselves, for example by appealing to nationalist sentiment, and also to damage their opponents by playing up their alleged role in allowing the violence to happen.

“Many politicians will use the reports as an extra public relations tool – both those who will present themselves as ultra-patriotic and those who will make declarations about inter-ethnic peace,” Dyatlenko predicted. “These reports may end up merely being the instruments of [political] battle.”

The politicisation of the facts and implications of the violence has led the appearance of rival accounts – for example, the Ata-Jurt party, which appeals largely to a Kyrgyz nationalist constituency, produced its own report as an alternative to the main parliamentary one. Its report pins most of the blame for the conflict on politicians who were in the transitional government at the time.

A third version produced by parliamentarian Ismail Isakov appeared to be an attempt to defend his own actions as the government’s special envoy for southern Kyrgyzstan. Isakov’s handling of the security forces has come in for criticism in other reports. In the end, he agreed to merge his findings into the main parliamentary inquiry.

Each new investigation is seized on and pored over by politicians, analysts and human rights activists, but most members of the public are less familiar with the detail. With so many differing accounts of the conflict in circulation and being used to fuel political battles, it becomes hard to decide what is fact or fiction.

A businessman from Kara Suu in southern Kyrgyzstan, an Uzbek who gave his name as Mahmudjon, said he dismissed the parliamentary inquiry after a debate in which “some members said that all Uzbeks were extremists and separatists. After that, I lost all trust in it.”

Marat Tokoev, head of the Journalists’ Association, says media in Kyrgyzstan have not explained the nuances of each document and the differences between them in an accessible way. “Instead, we’ve seen emotional statements about the reports, and only certain aspects of them have been highlighted,” he said.

Tokoev says the trend is for journalists to add their own commentary rather than seeking out the views of independent experts.

“It seems to me that many people have virtually no idea about the reports. They may be aware of certain issues that have sparked reactions and emotional comments,” Tokoev said. “As for the print media, each newspaper has its own direction, and the owners are politicians or businessmen who have political interests.”

Most people get their information from the national TV and radio broadcaster, but reporting there has been restricted to occasional mentions in the news, with few in-depth programmes to explain the issues.

“That’s the problem with our media – we don’t have much analysis,” Aisuluu Odrakaeva, a Bishkek-based TV journalist, said.

Odrakaeva said what most viewers would remember about the KIC inquiry was the news that Kiljunen was no longer welcome in Kyrgyzstan, and footage of a protester setting fire to a copy of the commission’s report in front of the United Nations mission in Bishkek.

Dina Tokbaeva is IWPR regional editor in Central Asia