• KGS/USD = 0.01144 0%
  • KZT/USD = 0.00212 0%
  • TJS/USD = 0.10808 0%
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008 0%
  • TMT/USD = 0.28571 0%
  • KGS/USD = 0.01144 0%
  • KZT/USD = 0.00212 0%
  • TJS/USD = 0.10808 0%
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008 0%
  • TMT/USD = 0.28571 0%
  • KGS/USD = 0.01144 0%
  • KZT/USD = 0.00212 0%
  • TJS/USD = 0.10808 0%
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008 0%
  • TMT/USD = 0.28571 0%
  • KGS/USD = 0.01144 0%
  • KZT/USD = 0.00212 0%
  • TJS/USD = 0.10808 0%
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008 0%
  • TMT/USD = 0.28571 0%
  • KGS/USD = 0.01144 0%
  • KZT/USD = 0.00212 0%
  • TJS/USD = 0.10808 0%
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008 0%
  • TMT/USD = 0.28571 0%
  • KGS/USD = 0.01144 0%
  • KZT/USD = 0.00212 0%
  • TJS/USD = 0.10808 0%
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008 0%
  • TMT/USD = 0.28571 0%
  • KGS/USD = 0.01144 0%
  • KZT/USD = 0.00212 0%
  • TJS/USD = 0.10808 0%
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008 0%
  • TMT/USD = 0.28571 0%
  • KGS/USD = 0.01144 0%
  • KZT/USD = 0.00212 0%
  • TJS/USD = 0.10808 0%
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008 0%
  • TMT/USD = 0.28571 0%

Viewing results 1 - 6 of 4

Opinion: The Specter Is Back – A Kazakh Warning to America

I was educated and began my career under Soviet communism in Kazakhstan. For many Americans, communism may sound like a policy argument. For us, it is also family memory — famine, confiscation, repression, camps and fear, all justified in the language of equality and justice. When communism returns to the American political debate, people from Kazakhstan listen carefully. “A specter is haunting Europe, the specter of communism.” That is how The Communist Manifesto by Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels began in 1848. Nearly two centuries later, the specter has not disappeared. It has changed its vocabulary, its political costumes and its geography. But the old temptation remains. It promises justice by concentrating power. In late June, U.S. President Donald Trump warned that communism was the greatest threat to the United States, greater, he said, than World War I, World War II, Pearl Harbor, or September 11. His language was characteristically blunt. Critics were right to say that democratic socialism is not the same thing as Soviet communism, and that the word “communist” should not be used carelessly in ordinary partisan debate. Still, the historical concern behind the warning should not be dismissed. Not every welfare program is communism. Not every democratic socialist is a Bolshevik. Every modern state helps its citizens in some form. The real question is when help becomes control. When does compassion become coercion? When does the state begin claiming the right to decide prices, property, production, speech and moral legitimacy in the name of “the people”? People who lived under communism know the danger. Why a Kazakh Voice Belongs in This Debate For an outside observer, it may seem strange that socialism and communism are again being debated in the United States, the stronghold of advanced capitalism, as Soviet theorists once described it. Yet the explanation is not mysterious. Congressional elections are approaching. Recent primary victories by candidates who identify with democratic socialism have brought these questions back into mainstream American politics. Of course, this does not mean the United States is on the eve of a Bolshevik revolution. America has elections, courts, private property, constitutional limits, and a free press. The Soviet Union had none of these in any meaningful sense. That distinction should be kept clear. But the first words of any political movement should be taken seriously. The early promises are usually humane. They speak of fairness, dignity, affordability, workers, tenants, food, and peace. Only later does society discover how much power must be handed to the state to make those promises real. The Democratic Socialists of America describes itself as the largest socialist organization in the United States and says working people should run “both the economy and society democratically” to meet human needs rather than profits. To many Americans, that may sound compassionate. To those of us trained in Marxist-Leninist doctrine, it also sounds familiar. I am not a political scientist or a specialist in party-building. I am simply a person who, because of my age, studied under the communists and...

Kurchatov: Kazakhstan’s Atomic City Finds New Life After Nuclear Tests

Strong winds, scorching sun, abandoned five-story apartment blocks standing next to occupied homes, crows and horses wandering the streets: this is how Kurchatov appears to visitors today. Once closed to outsiders, the city was the heart of Soviet nuclear science and military power. More than three decades after the closure of the Semipalatinsk Nuclear Test Site, how does this unique corner of Kazakhstan live now? Construction of the test site began on August 21, 1947. It covered 18,500 square kilometers at the intersection of what are now the Abai, Pavlodar, and Karaganda regions. Two years later, on August 29, 1949, the Soviet Union conducted its first nuclear test here. Soviet nuclear scientists helped create the country’s “nuclear shield,” but it was Kazakhstan that decades later brought the tests to an end. On August 29, 1991, by decree of President Nursultan Nazarbayev, the Semipalatinsk test site was officially closed. Over 42 years, at least 456 nuclear tests were carried out at the site, affecting more than 1.5 million people. The history of Kurchatov began as a military garrison. Because of its secrecy, the city changed names several times, including “Moscow-400,” “Nadezhda,” and “Bereg.” It later became known as Kurchatov, after Soviet physicist Igor Kurchatov, although for many years it remained better known by its code name: Semipalatinsk-21. The first builders and military personnel lived in extremely harsh conditions. “At first, many lived in dugouts, and the walls froze through completely,” older residents recall. “In winter, hair froze to the beds, and fingers were often frostbitten.” “I came to serve here from Moldova and thought I was going to a regional center. Instead, they sent us into the steppe, to the dugouts. No electricity, no heating, no gas. Cold, mud, wind. But I stayed anyway. I got married and later brought my parents here,” Viktor Bordei, who has lived in Kurchatov for 47 years, told The Times of Central Asia. [caption id="attachment_51250" align="aligncenter" width="1600"] Viktor Bordei, a resident of Kurchatov; image: TCA[/caption] For many who served at the test site, their work felt like a matter of honor. “We didn’t think about the consequences,” Bordei admits. “We believed we were strengthening the Soviet Union’s nuclear shield. Nobody spoke about the harm until Nazarbayev announced the damage done to nature and people. Of course, it’s painful to realize we were kept in the dark.” Over time, memories of that period have become intertwined with nostalgia. Former residents recall developed infrastructure, well-stocked stores, and strict order. After the military left, Kurchatov took years to recover, losing both people and housing while preserving the spirit of its unusual past. “I remember how the walls shook during the explosions. I also remember the day the military left. It was frightening, and nobody knew what would happen next. Now it hurts to see abandoned buildings and horses wandering the streets, but I don’t want to leave. The city is changing, and I believe in it,” says local resident Elena Kazachuk, who was born in Kurchatov. Zoya Lapshina...

Ukrainian Ambassador to Kazakhstan: From Chornobyl to Zaporizhzhia – Lessons Humanity Risks Forgetting

April 26 marks a date that changed the course of world history. This year marks the 40th anniversary of the Chornobyl nuclear disaster, one of the world’s worst nuclear accidents, the consequences of which are still felt today. In an interview with The Times of Central Asia, Ukraine’s Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary to Kazakhstan, Victor Mayko, spoke about the scale of the tragedy and emerging threats to nuclear safety. TCA: Forty years have passed. Why does Chornobyl remain a relevant issue today? Ambassador Mayko: Because it is not a story that has ended. It is an ongoing process, the consequences of which continue to unfold. Chornobyl is not only the explosion of a reactor; it is the long-term impact on people, nature, and the economy. In terms of scale, it is, without exaggeration, the largest manmade disaster in human history. TCA: What exactly defines that scale? Ambassador Mayko: First and foremost, the territory. Around 150,000 square kilometers were contaminated. The most dangerous area is the 10-kilometer zone. Isotopes were recorded there that had not previously been observed; they were formed as a result of processes during the explosion. According to estimates, this territory will only become suitable for habitation in about 20,000 years, once the decay of radioactive isotopes reaches safe levels. These were fertile lands, chernozem soils suitable for agriculture. Today, the area is a protected zone, essentially a vast natural reserve where wild animals live. But this is a forced outcome. TCA: As far as we know, you were personally a liquidator. What did you witness? Ambassador Mayko: I was sent there through mobilization. I spent almost a month at the plant, in two rotations. I saw people working on the reactor roof, clearing debris and removing radioactive materials. These were difficult, frightening scenes. People went there understanding the risk, but not always fully realizing its scale. TCA: How many people were affected? Ambassador Mayko: We still don’t know the exact figures. The Soviet system concealed information. I believe the immediate death toll was at least 10,000. But if we include those who later died from radiation-related illnesses, thyroid cancer, stomach cancer, and others, the number rises into the hundreds of thousands. In total, around 600,000 people took part in the cleanup. That is an enormous figure. TCA: Why was information about the accident concealed for so long? Ambassador Mayko: Because the system was built that way. Until the radioactive cloud moved beyond the borders of the USSR, there was silence. Only when elevated radiation levels were detected in Sweden, Finland, and the United Kingdom did international inquiries begin. Then the Soviet Union was forced to acknowledge the accident. TCA: How did this affect people in the first days? Ambassador Mayko: People continued living their normal lives. On May 1, there was a public demonstration. I was there myself with my family, with a small child. No one warned us about the danger. Many felt throat irritation and coughing, but didn’t understand the cause. If people had been...

The USSR Is Gone, the Story Isn’t: Joe Luc Barnes On the Road Across the Former Soviet Union

On a foggy but mild London evening, The Times of Central Asia joined journalist and contributor Joe Luc Barnes to celebrate the launch of his new book,  Farewell to Russia: A Journey Through the Former USSR. As the wine flowed, the conversation ranged from Silk Road cities to Soviet ghosts. It was exactly the sort of evening you might expect from a book that explores one of the world’s most complex regions with both political sharpness and a healthy sense of humor. Barnes’ book begins with a deceptively simple question: What actually happened to the fifteen countries that emerged following the Soviet Union’s collapse in 1991? The clichés are familiar: snow, concrete, and the KGB. Nevertheless, Barnes’ depiction reveals that the real story is stranger, funnier, and far more human. In the years since Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, he has crossed the former Soviet states from Estonia’s tech hubs to Uzbekistan’s minarets and Azerbaijan’s flame towers, gathering stories from taxi drivers, activists, nomads, and anyone willing to converse over a drink. The result is part travelogue and part political detective story, with a strong dose of dark comedy about life after empire. Barnes moves easily between epic scenery and the absurdities of everyday life. Georgian wine and Armenian brandy make an appearance alongside Silk Road bazaars, smoky bars, and long railway excursions. At times there is also the lingering suspicion that someone, somewhere, is still listening. It is a portrait of a region that the West often reduces to geopolitics but which, as Barnes shows, is full of resilience, generosity, and a distinctly post-Soviet sense of humor. [caption id="attachment_45000" align="aligncenter" width="1600"] Image: TCA[/caption] Barnes is well placed to tell the story, as a journalist who has spent more than a decade working across China and the former Soviet space. Since the full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, he has visited all fifteen former Soviet republics, a journey that has taken him from former gulag sites in Kazakhstan to Tajikistan’s notorious Anzob Tunnel and through the shifting political landscape of the region. The book was released on March 5, a date heavy with Cold War symbolism. It marks the anniversary of Joseph Stalin’s death in 1953 and Winston Churchill’s Iron Curtain speech in 1946. With 2026 also marking thirty-five years since the collapse of the Soviet Union, Barnes’ journey arrives at a moment when questions about territory, independence, and Russia’s continuing influence feel newly urgent. Farewell to Russia: A Journey Through the Former USSR by Joe Luc Barnes is available now in hardback, audiobook, and ebook.