• KZT/USD = 0.00220
  • TJS/USD = 0.10860
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008
  • TMT/USD = 0.29760
  • KZT/USD = 0.00220
  • TJS/USD = 0.10860
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008
  • TMT/USD = 0.29760
  • KZT/USD = 0.00220
  • TJS/USD = 0.10860
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008
  • TMT/USD = 0.29760
  • KZT/USD = 0.00220
  • TJS/USD = 0.10860
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008
  • TMT/USD = 0.29760
  • KZT/USD = 0.00220
  • TJS/USD = 0.10860
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008
  • TMT/USD = 0.29760
  • KZT/USD = 0.00220
  • TJS/USD = 0.10860
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008
  • TMT/USD = 0.29760
  • KZT/USD = 0.00220
  • TJS/USD = 0.10860
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008
  • TMT/USD = 0.29760
  • KZT/USD = 0.00220
  • TJS/USD = 0.10860
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008
  • TMT/USD = 0.29760
26 October 2026

Viewing results 13 - 18 of 117

Opinion: Weaponizing Faith – The Cold War Roots of Central Asia’s Security Dilemma

Central Asia’s contemporary security dilemma is partly rooted in Cold War strategies that transformed Muslim identity into a factor of geopolitical competition. Washington viewed Soviet Central Asia’s Muslim populations as a potential pressure point against Moscow. The Soviet Union itself mobilized Central Asian Muslim personnel during its intervention in Afghanistan. These policies did not alone create later radical movements, but they contributed to a regional environment where existing grievances, ideological narratives, and transnational networks could be redirected and intensified. The origins of Washington’s interest in Soviet Muslim populations as a strategic factor emerged during the final years of the Cold War. In 1977, the Nationalities Working Group, an interagency task force within the National Security Council, was established to examine vulnerabilities among the Soviet Union’s non-Russian nationalities. Declassified U.S. records show that American officials studied ethnic, cultural, and religious identities as possible sources of pressure against Moscow. Following the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan in December 1979, this approach became part of Washington’s broader effort to weaken Soviet influence. Through Pakistan’s Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI), the United States provided assistance to Afghan resistance organizations, while Saudi Arabia contributed significant financial support. Pakistan’s military government under General Zia-ul-Haq favored Islamist factions among Afghan resistance groups, helping connect military assistance with religious mobilization against Soviet forces. During his visit to the Khyber Pass in early February 1980, U.S. National Security Adviser Zbigniew Brzezinski addressed Afghan resistance fighters, declaring: "That land over there is yours. You will go back to it one day because your cause is right and God is on your side." The remarks reflected how the anti-Soviet struggle was framed not only in geopolitical terms but also through religious language and symbolism. [caption id="attachment_56711" align="aligncenter" width="2560"] Soviet T-62 tank leaving Afghanistan; image: U.S. Department of Defense.[/caption] The Afghan conflict was also fought through education and information campaigns. Between 1986 and 1992, the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID) funded an approximately $50 million educational program through the University of Nebraska–Omaha’s Center for Afghanistan Studies for Afghan refugees and schools. Research has shown that some textbooks incorporated violent imagery, references to weapons and combat, and themes glorifying holy war and the duty of martyrdom. Produced for wartime Afghanistan, these materials reflected, and arguably helped sustain, a militarized ideological environment. Islamic religious life in Central Asia had its own deeper roots. Despite Soviet restrictions, religious learning survived through underground hujra networks and unofficial scholarship. Figures such as Muhammadjon Hindustoniy-Rustamov, born in the Fergana Valley and later one of Soviet Central Asia’s most influential unofficial Islamic scholars, shaped generations of students even as Afghanistan became an arena of international rivalry during the 1980s. Moscow also used Central Asian Muslim identity for strategic purposes. The 154th Separate Spetsnaz Detachment, known as the “Muslim Battalion,” was composed largely of Uzbek, Tajik, and Turkmen soldiers from the Soviet Turkestan Military District. The unit participated in Operation Storm-333 in December 1979, the Soviet operation that killed Afghan President Hafizullah Amin and installed Babrak Karmal. The selection of Central Asian...

Opinion: How Europe Balances Conditions and Interests in Uzbekistan

Uzbekistan has enjoyed preferential access to the EU market under GSP+ since 2021. The program removes tariffs on thousands of products for countries that commit to implementing international conventions on human rights, labor standards, environmental protection, and governance. Uzbekistan is one of two Central Asian countries, alongside Kyrgyzstan, participating in GSP+. Tajikistan receives the less generous standard GSP preferences, while Kazakhstan and Turkmenistan are outside the scheme because they are classified as upper-middle-income economies. Uzbekistan makes extensive use of the program. In 2024, its preference utilization rate, the share of eligible exports entering the EU duty-free, was 92.2%. EU imports from Uzbekistan nearly doubled between 2021 and 2024. Those benefits come with conditions. The European Commission assesses whether Uzbekistan is implementing the conventions required under GSP+. It must consider findings from the UN and International Labour Organization monitoring bodies, but it can also use evidence from governments, international organizations, civil society groups, and other sources. If the Commission has “reasonable doubt” that Uzbekistan is meeting its commitments, it can open a withdrawal procedure. Uzbekistan can respond and provide evidence of compliance. The Commission then decides whether to close the case or withdraw preferences from some or all products. The system gives Brussels a formal role in assessing whether Uzbekistan continues to meet the conditions attached to preferential market access. It also requires the Commission to decide how different evidence should be interpreted and when shortcomings are serious enough to justify action. There is no automatic formula that produces that decision. The EU–Uzbekistan Enhanced Partnership and Cooperation Agreement, or EPCA, creates a separate mechanism. It makes respect for human rights an essential part of the partnership, and a serious breach can lead to partial or full suspension of the agreement. The European Parliament’s May 2026 resolution called for implementation of the agreement’s human-rights and rule-of-law commitments and for those commitments to be assessed within three years. The EU’s own report records setbacks in media freedom, civil society, and judicial independence. It also recognizes progress on labor standards and protections for women and children. The Commission must assess compliance with each required convention; progress in one area does not remove obligations in another. That means the Commission must decide how much weight to give different evidence and when concerns are serious enough to affect trade preferences. Decisions on Uzbekistan’s domestic reforms, however, remain with the Uzbek government. Concurrently, cooperation between the EU and Uzbekistan has expanded. Brussels is pursuing closer ties with Uzbekistan on transport connectivity and critical raw materials. Uzbekistan’s position on regional transport routes, critical raw materials, and access to a growing Central Asian market also gives Tashkent leverage in its dealings with Europe. The new GSP rules apply from January 2027, raising the number of required conventions from 27 to 32. Existing beneficiaries retain their preferences during a transition period and must reapply by the end of 2028. The EPCA has applied provisionally since March 1, 2026, while full ratification remains pending. The next GSP+ review will show how...

The Language Gap: Why the Korean Language Is Outpacing Japanese in Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan

Two weeks ago, Kazakhstan officially joined South Korea’s Employment Permit System (EPS), becoming the 18th country admitted to the program. Even before the change, thousands of Kazakhstani nationals were working in South Korea, many without legal status. Kazakhstani authorities estimated the total at around 15,000 in 2025, including 11,000 without legal documentation. To work legally in South Korea under the EPS, applicants must pass the EPS-TOPIK, a standardized Korean-language test. In this context, learning Korean has become a direct route to better-paid work for many young people in Kazakhstan. Japan, however, has generated no comparable rush. A Widening Gap, By the Numbers The contrast is also evident in language-learning trends. In 2022, Jang Ho-jong, a professor at the Kazakh Ablai Khan University of International Relations and World Languages, told The Korea Times that Korean ranked alongside English and Chinese among Kazakhstan’s three most popular foreign languages and was taught at 15 to 20 universities. About 400 students were taking Korean courses at his university, compared with just three or four when the program opened 20 years earlier. South Korea has also expanded teaching and testing infrastructure. In July 2026, the King Sejong Institute at Akhmet Baitursynuly Kostanay Regional University became Kazakhstan’s first official center for the Sejong Korean Language Assessment (SKA), allowing candidates to take the exam without traveling abroad. Official enrollment data from the King Sejong Institute Foundation show that 1,320 students were enrolled at its institutes in Kazakhstan in 2025, down slightly from 1,481 in 2024. The picture is very different for Japanese. The Japan Foundation counted 581 learners across eight institutions in Kazakhstan in 2024, compared with 1,569 learners in 2006. In Uzbekistan, Korean-language education has expanded even faster. The country recorded the largest increase worldwide in 2025, adding 68 schools offering Korean classes. Sri Lanka placed second with 43. Enrollment at King Sejong institutes in Uzbekistan rose from 1,873 in 2021 to 7,931 in 2024. It eased to 6,308 in 2025, according to the same official dataset. Japanese-language study has also grown in Uzbekistan, but more slowly. The same Japan Foundation survey counted 4,201 learners across 19 institutions in 2024, up from 3,579 at 18 institutions in 2021. Although the two datasets cover different types of institutions, the nationwide Japanese total remained below enrollment in Uzbekistan’s King Sejong network that year. A More Complicated Picture Next Door Across the rest of Central Asia, however, the comparison is less clear-cut. The Japan Foundation’s 2024 regional survey recorded 1,708 Japanese-language learners at 14 institutions in Kyrgyzstan, taught by 50 teachers. That was almost three times Kazakhstan’s total, even though Kyrgyzstan’s population is roughly one-third as large. Among the learners in Kyrgyzstan, 411 were in primary or secondary education. A 2020 account by a Japan Foundation specialist described young people learning through anime and the internet, while Japan International Cooperation Agency volunteers introduced Japanese in rural schools. Some later traveled to Bishkek for more formal study. This points to demand developing from the ground up alongside institutional support. Korean-language...

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...

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...

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...