Opinions - The Times Of Central Asia

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Opinion

From Lenin to Kenesary: What Kazakhstan’s Renamed Streets Say About Power

In July 2026, a new constitutional law on Kazakhstan’s administrative-territorial structure came into force. It retained a layered process for changing place names: local authorities must consider residents’ views, while onomastic commissions review proposals before final decisions are made. The previous legal framework dated to 1993. Replacing it with a constitutional law did not dismantle the machinery of onomastic policy but consolidated the roles of public consultation, local government and official commissions. The law formalized a system built over three decades, during which thousands of streets were renamed but the country’s urban map changed at markedly different speeds. Kazakhstan’s experience is often described as a simple substitution of Lenin with Abai and communist terminology with the symbols of independence. The geography of renaming suggests something more precise: a centralized nation-building project whose reach depends on local demography and the political cost of opposition. Research documenting 6,832 cases across 37 cities between 1991 and 2019 shows the disparity. Five cities accounted for 72% of all recorded renamings: Shymkent had 1,767, Almaty 1,064, Astana 860, Aktobe 783, and Kyzylorda 470. Pavlodar recorded 34, Petropavl 28, Oskemen 23, and Rudny only two. Raw totals partly reflect city size and urban expansion, but the study’s statistical analysis identified both city status and ethnic composition as significant factors. Renaming occurred less frequently where the share of Slavic residents was higher, a pattern the author interpreted as evidence of greater state caution in ethnically mixed cities. The procedure helps explain why a national symbolic agenda produced such local variation. Proposals move through public consultation, local representative and executive bodies, and onomastic commissions. These stages do not guarantee that public preferences will determine the outcome, but they create points at which opposition can slow or redirect a proposal. Astana, extensively rebuilt after becoming the capital in 1997, could remake its urban identity quickly. Established industrial cities in the north and east moved more carefully. The contrast between what disappeared and what survived is equally revealing. Explicitly ideological names associated with Lenin, Marx, Engels, and the October Revolution became far less common, while Almaty retained streets named after Soviet scientists, writers, and figures connected to Kazakhstan’s development. The authorities did not treat every Soviet reference alike. They separated communist ideology from cultural and intellectual contribution, producing selective de-Sovietization rather than wholesale symbolic purification. Municipal practice further complicates a purely nationalist reading. Official data from Kyzylorda for 2025 lists 874 city streets: 497 named after individuals, 270 after localities and water features, and 107 carrying conventional names. This snapshot does not identify which streets were renamed, but it shows that the present naming system encompasses historical figures, local geography, and ordinary municipal conventions. In the expanding Arai-Shugyla neighborhood, seven previously unnamed streets received names drawn from localities and water features. Onomastic policy was therefore organizing new urban space as well as redistributing historical visibility. Naming new streets and replacing old ones use the same administrative machinery, although their political consequences are not always comparable. The politics became clearer when...

Central Asia - Iran Relations

Opinion: Why Central Asia Cannot Afford to Abandon the Iranian Route

Kazakhstan had barely secured a foothold in Iran’s largest commercial port when renewed military escalation made the southern route risky again. The problem for Central Asia is that Iran is more than a trading partner. For a region without direct access to the open sea, it provides one of the few overland routes to the Persian Gulf and the Indian Ocean. On June 28, Kazakhstan and Iran signed a 27-year build-operate-transfer (BOT) agreement for a Kazakh transport and logistics terminal at Shahid Rajaee Port in Bandar Abbas. The agreement allocates two years for construction and the following 25 for operation. Astana expects the terminal to provide more direct access to markets in the Gulf, South and Southeast Asia, and East Africa. The project almost immediately found itself in a different reality. In July, U.S. strikes hit Iranian railway and coastal infrastructure. The Aq Taqeh Khan bridge on a rail route connecting Iran with Turkmenistan and, further north, with Kazakhstan, was damaged. There was no confirmed halt to Central Asian freight traffic, but military risk was no longer an abstract concern for carriers. That risk has now been compounded by a new U.S. sanctions campaign. On August 24, U.S. Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent launched what Washington calls Operation Economic Outcast, combining direct sanctions with pressure on Iran’s foreign economic partners. The United States said it would set timelines for other countries to shut down economic activity with Iran, while the scope of secondary sanctions was expanded to cover five areas: digital assets, technology, gold, aviation, and shipping. Nearly 60 Iran-linked individuals, entities, and vessels were also sanctioned. The United States has not publicly identified which countries could face penalties first. War and sanctions can make the Iranian route more expensive, slower, and more dangerous. They cannot change geography. Iran gives Central Asia overland access to ports on the Persian Gulf and Gulf of Oman. From Bandar Abbas and Chabahar, cargo can move onward toward India, the Gulf states, and East Africa. Iran also provides a western overland route toward Turkey. This is one of the fundamental differences between the Iranian route and the Middle Corridor, which crosses the Caspian Sea before continuing through Azerbaijan, Georgia, and Turkey. The Middle Corridor requires cargo to move between rail and maritime transport. Iran offers the possibility of a continuous overland chain while also providing access to ports connected to the Indian Ocean. For Kazakhstan, the southern route is already more than a plan. Trade with Iran increased by 26.4% in 2025 to $430.2 million. Freight traffic along the International North-South Transport Corridor reached 3.5 million tons, while rail traffic between Kazakhstan and Iran increased by 69%. It is this expanding transport network that is now exposed to greater military and sanctions risks. There is another factor. A free trade agreement between Iran and the Eurasian Economic Union, which includes Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan, entered into force on May 15, 2025. It significantly reduced tariff barriers to trade in goods between the two sides. Uzbekistan offers...

Opinion

What Building Central Asian Supply Chains Taught Me About AI

I took over spare-parts supply at BPK Auto in Ust-Kamenogorsk in the mid-2000s, at the age of 25, moving from selling cars. The company was the general dealer for VAZ in Kazakhstan, assembled Niva models in the city, and was taking on Skoda, Chevrolet, and Kia while building service centers across the country to meet the expectations of those brands for a dealer. My job was to keep parts flowing to all of it. Several thousand vehicles came through in a month, and a single car contains something like 50,000 separate part numbers. The service teams wanted as many of those as possible sitting on the shelves. From where they stood, that made sense, because they were judged on whether a mechanic could start a repair the same day, whether a customer complained, and an ISO audit was running over the service operation at the same time. From the procurement side, the arithmetic looked different. Some parts cost two or three thousand dollars and were fitted once or twice a year, and holding them across four model lines tied up a large share of the company's working capital. I built the forecast in spreadsheets and checked it against actual sales once the month closed in 1C. To run it, I needed the service side's own records: how many vehicles of each type they had seen, and what had been repaired. I asked for them for months. They would not release them. Some of that was habit; a warehouse full of everything being what a well-run operation had looked like for the previous 40 years. More of it sat in how the two departments were counted. My result was recorded the moment the parts moved into the service center. Theirs was recorded much later, when the car left the workshop. Nobody was measured by the number that would have made the forecast work. The forecasting was the straightforward part of that job. The difficult part was building an operation in which people shared the information behind the forecast and were expected to act on its findings. Why a Better Model Would Not Have Changed the Outcome Put one of today's AI demand-forecasting systems into that same warehouse and very little changes. The forecast would be far better than anything I produced by hand. It would still depend on service records that nobody was willing to release, and where records did exist, it would be reading entries written up at the end of a long shift. It could not grant the purchasing manager authority to reorder against it, nor could it alter the measures by which the service department was judged. Better intelligence does not repair the path between operational data and operational action. Every party you add to that path lengthens it. A distribution network across Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan can run from a manufacturer to over 45,000 small retail outlets, served through more than 18 distribution centers, with 1,391 field staff taking and checking orders on the ground. An order begins...

Opinion

Kyrgyzstan and Uzbekistan Show What Diplomacy Can Deliver as Vast Rail Project with China Advances

Kyrgyz President Sadyr Japarov and Uzbek President Shavkat Mirziyoyev met on July 30 on the shores of Kyrgyzstan’s Lake Issyk-Kul, in Cholpon Ata, to sign the Treaty on Allied Relations. It was much more than business as usual. In their press conference, the leaders largely set aside the diplomatic boilerplate and expressions of mutual approbation that usually attend such summits. Instead, the meeting focused on putting a decisive end to mutual Kyrgyz-Uzbek grievances and rivalry, opting for dialogue over confrontation, stability over tension, and partnership over the quest for primacy in their bilateral relationship. Without ceding any of their sovereignty, they stressed that teamwork and shared responsibility—not the pursuit of great-power patronage or one-upmanship—are the surest way to advance common interests. Japarov, like Mirziyoyev, made clear that strategic-level collaboration always trumps short-term transactional gains. One of the biggest takeaways from the Japarov–Mirziyoyev summit was the confident demeanor and optimism with which they spoke about the future of Kyrgyz-Uzbek relations. Veering from his scripted notes and speaking in Russian to the press, Mirziyoyev said: “What an atmosphere we have today [here in Kyrgyzstan]. Look at what we're doing today— we're making history. This alliance — all of this will remain in history forever and ever.” Friendship, mutual respect, and hard work will produce “dynamic development” and “steady economic growth,” leading to “the well-being of peoples.” Business Development and Ahead of Schedule Once dismissed as an engineer's pipedream or a financier's nightmare, Japarov and Mirziyoyev said they’re staying the course on building strategic connectivity, energy, and water infrastructure, singling out the China–Kyrgyzstan–Uzbekistan railway and the Kambarata-1 Hydropower Plant (HPP), projects that some considered unrealistic. The leaders made it plain that this railway will deliver huge benefits. As Mirziyoyev put it: "We will work together non-stop to develop trade and logistics infrastructure along this railway route." Beyond offering transit times faster than the northern routes, the China–Kyrgyzstan–Uzbekistan railway will boost tourism and bring Kyrgyzstan and Uzbekistan hundreds of millions of dollars in transit revenue. Most importantly, it will unlock untapped economic resources, fueling new jobs, businesses, and logistics hubs along the corridor. After the Japarov-Mirziyoyev meetings, The Times of Central Asia spoke with Akramjon Nematov, First Deputy Director of Uzbekistan's Institute for Strategic and Regional Studies. Having been on site, he noted that the numbers and progress on the ground speak louder than any words or communiqués: "Construction is active at 83 of 107 planned sites on the Kyrgyz line, with over 10,000 workers and 7,000 units of heavy machinery deployed. Crews are drilling 26 tunnels through the Tian Shan, with over 13.5 kilometers of the main tunnel already cut, while 38 of 50 bridges are underway. The pace is staggering. I've watched this railway move Kyrgyz-Uzbek relations from friction to cooperation – and I measure progress not in words, but in cubic meters of earth moved." China has committed to supplying most of the capital and engineering capacity. The project carries a total capitalization of roughly $4.7 billion, structured as a $2.3...

Energy and Infrastructure

Opinion: Kazakhstan Energy Expansion May Not Guarantee a Lasting Surplus

Kazakhstan plans to commission 13.3 GW of power capacity by the end of 2029, including 12.56 GW of entirely new generation, in a build-out the government says will move the country from deficit to sustained surplus. But new industrial projects and large data centers could absorb part of that margin almost as soon as it appears. According to Energy Ministry projections, Kazakhstan expects to eliminate its electricity deficit by the end of the first quarter of 2027 and move to a sustained surplus by 2029. The projected electricity balance for 2029 calls for generation of 162.1 billion kWh against consumption of 144.5 billion kWh, leaving a surplus of 17.6 billion kWh. However, it is difficult to predict exactly how much electricity the country will need three years from now. Therefore the forecast "surplus" will not necessarily become a reserve available for future industrial projects. Energy Hungry Data Centers Kazakhstan is pursuing a swathe of new energy-intensive industrial projects, while data centers are emerging as another major source of electricity demand. The Data Center Valley project is being developed in Ekibastuz, where the government says 300 MW of power capacity has already been secured, with plans to expand to 1 GW. It cites competitive electricity costs and the ability to scale up as advantages of the location. At full scale, such a cluster would itself become a major electricity consumer. If it drew 1 GW continuously, it would consume about 8.76 billion kWh a year – roughly half the projected national surplus for 2029. Kazakhstan’s digital ambitions already extend beyond a single data center. In June, the government announced $10 billion in agreements with U.S.-based Firebird and NVIDIA to build a large AI computing center using 100,000 advanced computer chips. The project will form part of the Data Center Valley initiative. By the end of 2029, Kazakhstan plans to commission 13.3 GW of capacity, of which 12.56 GW will come from entirely new generating facilities and 0.74 GW will replace existing capacity. According to the Energy Ministry, 7.4 GW of the total will be baseload generation and another 5.9 GW will come from renewable energy sources. The full 13.3 GW cannot be treated as spare power for new factories and data centers. Some will be needed to meet rising demand and make the electricity system more reliable. Solar and wind power also cannot produce at full capacity all the time. This is particularly important during periods of peak demand, when the power system must cope simultaneously with high consumption and possible maintenance or outages at generating facilities. A projected annual surplus measured in billions of kilowatt-hours and the amount of capacity available during a particular peak hour are therefore different measures. Upkeep of Current Power Sources The condition of existing generation remains a separate problem. Much of Kazakhstan’s thermal generation is aging and requires modernization. The Energy Ministry reported that 411 billion tenge was allocated to the 2025 repair campaign, during which 10 power units, 63 boilers, and 39 turbines were repaired. It said...

Women's History

Opinion: A Century Apart, Two Official Visions of Uzbek Womanhood

A century ago, in 1926, the Russian-language Uzbek newspaper Pravda Vostoka published an appeal to the “working women of the Soviet East” written by Clara Zetkin – a Marxist and a women’s rights advocate from Germany. In its appeal for women’s unveiling, it asked where the mullahs had been while women suffered through the “dark past” and promised that Soviet law now shone “bright rays” over a liberated and free Soviet present. It closed not with a tribute to women, but with a slogan: “Forward to socialism! Always ready to fight for world revolution!” There was a significant problem with this text. Literacy among Uzbek women was extremely low, particularly in rural areas, and those who could read generally read Uzbek rather than Russian. Historian Marianne Kamp documents this gap in her book The New Woman in Uzbekistan. The article calling women to political consciousness was, therefore, not directly accessible to the overwhelming majority of its stated audience. That gap is not just a flaw in the propaganda or evidence of its exaggerated reach. Rather, it explains how the propaganda worked. A Russian newspaper speaking to Uzbek women who largely could not read it depended on party cadres, activists, public readings, meetings, and other literate intermediaries who could disseminate the message in Uzbek. It did not address an existing constituency so much as construct one – handing local organisers a model of the politically awakened Soviet woman they were expected to promote in villages where practically no woman could have read the article herself. [caption id="attachment_54189" align="aligncenter" width="1774"] Uzbek women in the old city of Tashkent before going out into the street on International Women’s Day, March 8, 1924. Photo: Public domain.[/caption] The “working women of the Soviet East” were therefore both an audience and an emerging political category. That category served a larger claim the Soviet state was making about Central Asia: that the region was “backward” and required revolutionary socialist transformation. In Soviet rhetoric, as in some earlier Russian imperial writing, the condition of women became one of the principal measures by which a society’s level of development was judged. A society’s position on the imagined path from feudalism to modernity could be read from whether its women were veiled or unveiled, secluded or employed, illiterate or educated. Transforming women’s appearance and public role offered the state an especially visible means of demonstrating that Central Asia was leaving its supposedly backward past behind. This does not mean that Soviet female emancipation was merely an empty disguise for imperial domination. Many contemporary works by historians such as Adrienne Edgar, Marianne Kamp, and Shoshana Keller showcase the genuine changes produced by Soviet literacy campaigns, education, employment, family law, and women’s political participation. Soviet gender policy did not simply reproduce the restrained paternalism of the tsarist administration. It attempted, and in many ways succeeded, at a much more radical transformation in the realm of gender politics. What it does complicate is who was doing the defining. It is tempting to read...