The Silk Visa Deadlock: The Long Road to a Borderless Central Asia

The year 2025 will likely be remembered as a milestone in Central Asian diplomacy. Regional leaders signed landmark agreements on water and energy cooperation and launched major investment projects. At high-level meetings, Central Asian presidents emphasized a new phase of deeper cooperation and greater unity, highlighting strategic partnership and shared development goals. But at ground level, at border crossings such as Korday between Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan, or the congested diversion routes replacing the closed Zhibek Zholy checkpoint, the picture is far less seamless. Long queues, heightened scrutiny, and bureaucratic delays remain the norm. While political rhetoric celebrates unity, the reality on the ground tells a different story. The region’s physical borders remain tightly controlled. A key symbol of unrealized integration is the stalled “Silk Visa” project, a proposed Central Asian version of the Schengen visa that would allow tourists to travel freely across the region. The project has made little headway, with experts suggesting that, beyond technical issues, deeper concerns, including economic disparities and security sensitivities, have played a role. Silk Visa: A Stalled Vision Launched in 2018 by Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan, the Silk Visa was envisioned as a game-changer for regional tourism and mobility. Under the scheme, tourists with a visa to one participating country could move freely across Central Asia, from Almaty to Samarkand and Bishkek. Seven years on, the project has yet to materialize. Official explanations point to the difficulty of integrating databases on “undesirable persons.” But as Uzbekistan’s Deputy Prime Minister acknowledged earlier this year, the delay stems from the need to harmonize security services and create a unified system. Experts also cite diverging visa policies and resistance from national security agencies unwilling to share sensitive data. As long as each country insists on determining independently whom to admit or blacklist, the Silk Visa will remain more aspiration than policy. Economic Imbalance: The Silent Barrier The most significant, albeit rarely acknowledged, hurdle to regional openness is economic inequality. Kazakhstan’s GDP per capita, at over $14,000, is significantly higher than that of Uzbekistan or Kyrgyzstan, which hover around $2,500-3,000. This disparity feeds fears in Astana that full border liberalization would trigger a wave of low-skilled labor migration, putting strain on Kazakhstan’s urban infrastructure and labor market. While Kazakhstan is eager to export goods, services, and capital across Central Asia, it remains reluctant to import unemployment or social tension. Migration pressure is already high: according to Uzbekistan’s Migration Agency, the number of Uzbek workers in Kazakhstan reached 322,700 in early 2025. Removing border controls entirely could exacerbate this trend, overwhelming already stretched public services. Security Concerns and Regional Tensions The geopolitical landscape further complicates the dream of borderless travel. A truly open regional system would require a strong, unified external border, something unattainable given Afghanistan’s proximity. The persistent threats of drug trafficking and extremist infiltration compel Uzbekistan and Tajikistan to maintain tight border controls. Kazakhstan, while geographically removed, remains cautious about loosening controls along its southern frontier. Moreover, despite recent agreements on delimiting the Kyrgyz–Tajik border, tensions in...

The Taliban’s Border Rhetoric: Pashtun Frontiers, Not Central Asian Borders

Two incidents in mid-October reignited debate over Afghanistan’s borders, particularly its long-disputed frontier with Pakistan. On October 18, Mohammad Nabi Omari, Afghanistan’s first deputy minister for interior affairs, suggested that Afghanistan’s “historical lands” now in Pakistan could one day return to Afghan control. The next day, Qatar’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs referred to “ending tensions on the Afghanistan–Pakistan border” in a ceasefire statement, prompting Taliban objections and a quick retraction. These remarks revived a longstanding Afghan grievance: the Durand Line, a frontier drawn in 1893 by the British between Afghanistan and British India. No Afghan government has ever recognized it as an international border, and the Taliban refers to it as an “imaginary line.” The Taliban’s language may alarm some observers who wonder whether such rhetoric could extend beyond Pakistan to Afghanistan’s northern borders with Central Asia. Those frontiers were defined in the 19th century by treaties between the Russian and British empires, with little Afghan involvement. Yet despite the heated language and recent armed clashes with Pakistan, the Taliban’s stance appears more ideological than expansionist. The Durand Agreement of 1893 established the boundary between Afghanistan and British India as a line separating their respective spheres of influence. When Pakistan gained independence in 1947, that line became an international border, recognized by all states except Afghanistan. The 2,600-kilometer frontier divided Pashtun and Baloch communities between two countries, leaving deep resentment that continues to shape tensions in the region. Pashtuns still move relatively freely across this rugged border, which has served as a haven for militants for decades. Afghanistan’s northern borders tell a slightly different story. They were drawn not by Afghan rulers but under the Anglo-Russian Agreement of 1873, which set the Amu Darya River as the boundary between the Russian and British spheres of influence. This arrangement confirmed Afghanistan’s authority over the lands south of the river, including Balkh, Kunduz, and Badakhshan, reinforcing both its territorial control and its legitimacy. In essence, the demarcation of Afghanistan’s northern boundary was a political gain. While the Durand Line came to represent partition and loss, the 1873 agreement brought Afghanistan new territory and legitimacy as a buffer state between the Russian and British empires. The north is largely inhabited by Uzbeks, Tajiks, and Turkmen, with few Pashtuns. This distinction helps explain why the Taliban’s references to “historic lands” focus on the Durand Line rather than Afghanistan’s borders with Central Asian states. Afghanistan’s acting defense minister, Mawlawi Mohammad Yaqoob Mujahid, the son of the Taliban’s late founder Mullah Mohammad Omar, recently reiterated that “[the Durand Line] has never been recognized as an official border, and no agreement has been made on this issue.… This is not a decision any government can make; it is a matter for the people.” Deputy Interior Minister Mohammad Nabi Omari’s call for the “return” of historic lands reflects the same ideological stance: a vision of Pashtun unity shaped by popular will rather than a call for military action or unilateral political moves. The Taliban, a Pashtun-led movement, uses...