Megaprojects Instead of Quotas: How Central Asia’s Water Diplomacy Is Changing

Central Asia’s water politics are moving beyond Soviet-era quotas. As glaciers in the Tien Shan retreat and climate pressure increases, river management has become a question of energy security, food production, and regional stability. The Soviet-era system of river-water allocation has reached its limits, forcing Central Asian states to look beyond traditional negotiations and toward joint ownership of strategic water infrastructure. Even as regional governments learn to cooperate more closely, a new challenge is emerging on Central Asia’s southern frontier, one that could disrupt the region’s hydrological balance. The Illusion of Control Formally, Central Asia’s water resources are governed through a network of interstate institutions. The principal mechanisms are the Interstate Commission for Water Coordination (ICWC) and the International Fund for Saving the Aral Sea (IFAS). On paper, the system appears effective. Twice a year, ahead of the spring-summer irrigation season and the autumn-winter period, representatives of the region’s countries meet to approve water-withdrawal quotas from the Syr Darya and Amu Darya river basins. At the end of 2025, for example, officials meeting in Ashgabat agreed on water allocations for 2026, setting total withdrawals from the Amu Darya at nearly 55.4 billion cubic meters. This framework has helped prevent open interstate conflicts by providing a permanent forum for dialogue. However, its foundation remains the 1992 Almaty Agreement, which essentially preserved a Soviet-era quota system designed for a single centrally planned state rather than a group of independent countries with competing interests. The greatest weakness of the system is the absence of any meaningful enforcement mechanism. If one country exceeds its agreed allocation during a drought year, there are no legal or economic penalties. Disputes are instead resolved through emergency negotiations between ministries or, in some cases, direct interventions by heads of state. A system dependent on political goodwill and personal relationships is increasingly fragile in an era of climate stress. Turning Water Disputes Into Joint Investments As the quota system shows signs of strain, Central Asian countries have begun experimenting with a more pragmatic approach: shared ownership of infrastructure. The central paradox of the Syr Darya basin is that upstream and downstream countries need water at different times of the year. Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan, which control the river’s headwaters, require releases in the winter to generate electricity and heat their cities. Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan, meanwhile, need that same water in summer to irrigate millions of hectares of farmland. Winter releases often flow downstream when demand is low, while shortages emerge during the peak agricultural season. The proposed solution is the Kambarata-1 hydropower plant on Kyrgyzstan’s Naryn River, a project now estimated to cost around $4.2 billion. What makes the project unusual is its ownership structure. Under a 2024 agreement, Kyrgyzstan will hold a 34% stake, while Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan will each own 33%. By investing billions of dollars in infrastructure located outside their territory, Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan are effectively purchasing seats at the decision-making table. As shareholders, they gain a direct role in determining reservoir operations, helping ensure water is stored during winter and released according to agricultural needs in summer. For Kyrgyzstan, the project promises greater energy independence. For downstream states, it offers more predictable water management. In that sense, economic incentives may prove more reliable than traditional intergovernmental agreements. The Qosh Tepa Canal and the Domino Effect While Central Asian states are developing new models of cooperation on the Syr Darya, a potentially far greater challenge is emerging in the Amu Darya basin. The Taliban authorities in Afghanistan are pressing ahead with construction of the massive Qosh Tepa Canal in the country’s north. Stretching 285 kilometers and measuring roughly 100 meters in width, the canal could divert as much as 25% to 30% of the Amu Darya’s total flow, according to some estimates. The problem is not only the scale of the project, but its construction methods. Because Afghanistan remains largely isolated from international financial institutions such as the World Bank and the Asian Development Bank, the canal is being financed primarily through domestic revenues. To reduce costs, large sections are being excavated through sandy terrain without concrete lining, increasing the risk of substantial water losses through seepage. At first glance, Kazakhstan may appear distant from the issue, with Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan likely to bear the immediate impact. Yet because Central Asia’s hydrological system functions as an interconnected network, the consequences could ripple across the region. Faced with reduced water availability from the Amu Darya, Uzbekistan could seek to compensate by increasing withdrawals from the Syr Darya basin. Kazakh political figure Azamatkhan Amirtayev has warned that this could reduce water flows into Kazakhstan by as much as 30% to 40%. The effects could fall hardest on rice farmers in Kazakhstan’s Kyzylorda Region, agricultural producers in Turkistan Region, and the fragile recovery of the North Aral Sea. Searching for a New Framework Afghanistan presents a particularly difficult challenge because it lies outside the existing regional water-management framework. Kabul has not signed the Convention on the Protection and Use of Transboundary Watercourses and International Lakes and is not bound by ICWC allocation quotas. Recognizing the risks, Uzbekistan, likely to be the first country directly affected, offered assistance to Afghanistan in the spring of 2026, proposing support for engineering work and concrete lining of the Qosh Tepa Canal to reduce water losses and improve efficiency. Today, Central Asia’s water-security architecture is being pulled in two directions. The region is moving toward a more pragmatic model, with stability built through joint investment and shared ownership of strategic infrastructure. Yet it remains vulnerable to external shocks that lie beyond its control. The shift from quotas to investment-driven cooperation also creates a new challenge: ensuring that multibillion-dollar agreements are respected and enforced. For that reason, Kazakhstan has proposed creating a Specialized International Water Organization under the auspices of the United Nations. As water management becomes more closely tied to infrastructure finance and regional security, Kazakhstan argues that a neutral international body could help strengthen cooperation over this most vital resource.

Pannier and Hillard’s Spotlight on Central Asia: New Episode Coming Sunday

As Managing Editor of The Times of Central Asia, I’m delighted that, in partnership with the Oxus Society for Central Asian Affairs, from October 19, we are the home of the Spotlight on Central Asia podcast. Chaired by seasoned broadcasters Bruce Pannier of RFE/RL’s long-running Majlis podcast and Michael Hillard of The Red Line, each fortnightly instalment will take you on a deep dive into the latest news, developments, security issues, and social trends across an increasingly pivotal region. This week, the team will be speaking with former Kyrgyz Ambassador to the U.S. Kadyr Toktogul about what it means for Kyrgyzstan to get a non-permanent seat on the UN Security Council.

UNDP Opinion: Central Asia – Shared Wildlife, Shared Landscapes, Shared Responsibility

As global leaders gather for the Global Environment Facility (GEF) Assembly in Samarkand, Central Asia has an opportunity to send a clear message to the world: protecting biodiversity is not only about saving species — it is about securing water, livelihoods, resilience and long-term stability for millions of people across our region. From the glaciers of the Tien Shan and Pamir mountains to the deserts, steppes and river basins downstream, Central Asia’s ecosystems are deeply interconnected across borders. Rivers flow between countries. Wildlife migrates through shared landscapes. Mountain ecosystems regulate water systems that sustain agriculture, energy production and communities far beyond the highlands themselves. Among the most powerful symbols of this shared natural heritage is the snow leopard — the silent guardian of Central Asia’s mountains. The snow leopard represents far more than a rare and iconic species. Its survival reflects the health of entire ecosystems that millions of people depend upon every day. Healthy mountain landscapes help secure freshwater resources, reduce disaster risks, sustain pastures and agriculture, preserve biodiversity, and strengthen resilience to climate change across the region. But today, these ecosystems are under growing pressure. Climate change is accelerating glacier melting and intensifying water stress. Land degradation, unsustainable grazing, habitat fragmentation and biodiversity loss are placing increasing pressure on fragile mountain environments and rural livelihoods. Communities living closest to nature are often the first to feel the consequences — through declining water availability, degraded pastures, reduced agricultural productivity and increasing climate-related risks. These challenges do not stop at national borders. And neither can the solutions. Only a coordinated regional response can match the scale of the challenge. Protecting Central Asia’s mountain ecosystems requires countries to work together to conserve ecological corridors, strengthen transboundary protected areas, improve water and land governance, and invest in climate-resilient livelihoods for communities whose futures are closely tied to nature. There are already successful examples of regional agreements. For example, a highly successful transboundary nature conservation agreement in Central Asia protects the Ustyurt Plateau and the Turan Temperate Deserts. Spanning across Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, and Turkmenistan, this initiative has successfully safeguarded vulnerable ecosystems and migratory species like the saiga antelope and snow leopard. [caption id="attachment_50004" align="aligncenter" width="1774"] Photo: Saiga calf. Kazakhstan/UNDP Kazakhstan[/caption] It is encouraging that transboundary cooperation has already taken shape across the region. Across Central Asia, governments, communities and development partners are already demonstrating that conservation and development can advance together. While each country's experience is unique, the lessons are remarkably similar: when communities benefit from healthy ecosystems, nature and people both thrive. In Kazakhstan, the snow leopard has become one of the clearest examples of how coordinated conservation efforts can help restore fragile ecosystems across borders. The species inhabits mountain systems that extend beyond national boundaries into China, Kyrgyzstan, Russia, and Uzbekistan, making its protection inseparable from regional cooperation. Over the past decade, habitat countries have strengthened efforts to protect the species through national conservation strategies, expanded protected areas, and improved ecosystem monitoring. Supported by cooperation between the Government, UNDP, the Global Environment Facility, and the scientific community, large-scale monitoring and habitat conservation initiatives have generated new data on snow leopard populations and migration routes across the Tien Shan and Altai Mountain systems. In Kazakhstan, the snow leopard population had declined to an estimated 80–100 animals by the mid-1990s, as habitat degradation, human pressure, and ecosystem fragmentation intensified across mountain landscapes. Over the years, systemic interventions, including digital monitoring, the establishment of a genetic bank, and studies of behavior and migration routes, helped support the creation of the Merke Regional Nature Park in 2026, strengthening the protection of critical habitats and ecological corridors shared across borders. Today, the population is estimated at 152–189 snow leopards, with around 70 percent of the species’ range in Kazakhstan now falling within protected areas. The growing snow leopard population, a symbol of the “health” of mountain ecosystems, shows that countries can create the conditions needed to conserve this rare and majestic species. It also demonstrates how biodiversity conservation in Central Asia increasingly depends on long-term regional cooperation, scientific collaboration, and shared responsibility for ecosystems that connect communities across borders. For Kyrgyzstan, the snow leopard has become far more than a symbol of a rare species. It represents a broader commitment to safeguarding the mountain ecosystems that underpin water security, biodiversity, climate resilience, and the well-being of millions across Central Asia. A longstanding symbol of strength, freedom, and harmony with nature, the snow leopard was officially designated a national symbol of the Kyrgyz Republic, reflecting the country’s deep connection to its mountain heritage. As one of the world’s most mountainous countries, Kyrgyzstan views the conservation of snow leopard landscapes as both a national and regional priority. Protecting these habitats also means safeguarding forests, pastures, glaciers, snowfields, and watersheds that sustain communities and economies far beyond national borders. Recognizing their critical role in maintaining biodiversity and freshwater resources, Kyrgyzstan has established a legal basis for the protection of glaciers and snowfields and is developing mechanisms for their long-term conservation. [caption id="attachment_50005" align="aligncenter" width="1774"] Photo: UNDP Kyrgyzstan/Vlad Ushakov[/caption] Kyrgyzstan has also used snow leopard conservation as a platform for advancing mountain resilience and regional cooperation. The country championed the UN Five Years of Action for the Development of Mountain Regions (2023–2027), supported the establishment of International Snow Leopard Day, and promotes transboundary cooperation through GSLEP, regional agreements, and joint conservation efforts among range countries. Kyrgyzstan’s experience demonstrates how conserving one iconic species can unite countries around a shared agenda for mountain resilience, biodiversity conservation, water security, and sustainable development. [caption id="attachment_50006" align="aligncenter" width="1774"] Photo: Snow leopard’s habitat/UNDP Tajikistan[/caption] High in the mountains of Tajikistan, people have lived alongside snow leopards for generations. But for many years, life was becoming harder for both. Shrinking pastures and disappearing wildlife pushed communities and predators into conflict. When snow leopards attacked livestock, families suffered. And when wild prey disappeared, the future of the snow leopard became uncertain. Today, there is hope. According to the 2025 edition of Tajikistan’s national Red Book, the country’s snow leopard population has grown to around 500 individuals — nearly double the estimated 250 recorded in 2017. Behind these numbers is a powerful lesson: protecting nature only works when local people are part of the solution. A conservation project led by UNDP and funded by the Global Environment Facility (GEF) helped mountain communities enhance their livelihoods while protecting wildlife. Women in remote villages were trained in wildlife monitoring and ecotourism, gaining new opportunities while helping monitor and protect nature. Altogether, 450 people from remote mountain areas, including protected area rangers and community members, strengthened their skills in smart patrolling and wildlife monitoring through project-supported trainings. These enhanced capacities improved wildlife tracking and threat detection, contributing to reduced illegal hunting and tree cutting. The project also introduced a simple but effective solution to reduce conflict between people and snow leopards. Communities received hay to feed livestock for just 20 extra days in spring, allowing mountain pastures to recover and wild prey to return. With more food in the wild, snow leopards were less likely to attack farm animals. Most importantly, communities were trusted to lead. Through small grants and local initiatives, they supported restoration of degraded pastures and forests, adoption of sustainable livestock practices, and reduced pressure on fragile mountain ecosystems, helping conserve iconic species while strengthening local livelihoods. The story of the snow leopard in Tajikistan shows that when communities are empowered, nature can recover too. Importantly, conservation success was not driven by communities alone. It was also enabled by stronger institutions, enhanced protected area management, expanded wildlife monitoring, and closer cooperation among scientists and conservation agencies. At the same time, while biodiversity frameworks are in place, their implementation depends on the capacities of staff at national and subnational levels. Continued education, skills development, awareness raising and, overall, investment in people remain essential to sustaining conservation efforts. The return of the snow leopard reflects the recovery of entire mountain ecosystems. [caption id="attachment_50007" align="aligncenter" width="1774"] Photo: UNDP Turkmenistan / Dovlet Rejepov[/caption] In Turkmenistan, in the Aral Sea Basin, communities are restoring degraded pastures and adopting more sustainable land management practices to improve productivity while reducing pressure on fragile ecosystems. These efforts are helping rural households strengthen resilience to climate change while supporting biodiversity conservation. Environmental degradation has had significant social and economic consequences, particularly for women and vulnerable households that depend heavily on natural resources for livelihoods and food security. As climate-related pressures such as declining agricultural productivity, degraded grazing lands and increasing water stress intensify, strengthening women’s participation in sustainable resource management and local decision-making is becoming increasingly important. Across affected landscapes, practical efforts are helping reduce pressure on natural resources while supporting livelihoods and biodiversity conservation. Communities are increasingly engaged in identifying solutions that strengthen resilience, improve resource management, and promote inclusive participation in sustainable local development. [caption id="attachment_50008" align="aligncenter" width="1774"] Photo: UNDP Uzbekistan[/caption] In Uzbekistan, community-led solutions in biodiversity-rich landscapes are demonstrating how ecosystem protection can go hand in hand with improving everyday life. Among many locally driven initiatives, families like Gulnoza Nuriddinova’s benefited from practical measures such as fencing, which helped protect household gardens and crops from wildlife intrusion and uncontrolled grazing, improving food security and reducing economic losses. For families like Sharofat Fayziddinova’s, access to piped water within the village transformed daily life by eliminating the need for frequent journeys to remote water sources, saving time and effort while improving living conditions. While these were individual solutions tailored to local needs, together they helped reduce pressure on sensitive natural areas, lower the risk of human-wildlife encounters, and strengthen the relationship between communities and the ecosystems on which they depend. They reflect an important lesson: conservation efforts are most effective when communities benefit directly from environmental protection and become active partners in safeguarding nature. For people living in mountain and rural areas, biodiversity is not an abstract concept. It is directly connected to water access, food security, incomes, health and resilience. The experiences of communities across Central Asia show that conservation is most effective when it improves people's lives while protecting the ecosystems on which they depend. Healthy mountain ecosystems help regulate river systems that sustain economies and populations across borders. Degraded forests, pastures and watersheds increase erosion, water insecurity and disaster risks for entire regions downstream. Protecting nature is therefore also an investment in regional stability, economic resilience and human security. The region has already demonstrated growing cooperation on climate action, biodiversity protection and sustainable natural resource management. Countries are expanding protected areas, strengthening environmental governance and investing in ecosystem restoration. Regional dialogue and collaboration are increasing. But much more is needed to match the scale of today’s environmental challenges. If Central Asia is to safeguard its shared natural heritage, three priorities deserve greater attention: investment in transboundary ecological corridors; stronger cooperation on water, land and biodiversity governance; and expanded support for communities whose livelihoods depend directly on healthy ecosystems. The GEF Assembly provides an important opportunity to strengthen this momentum. As Resident Representatives of the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) in Central Asia, we believe that with the leadership of the five Central Asian countries, the region can become a global example of how biodiversity conservation, climate resilience and sustainable development can advance together across borders. The future of the snow leopard, like the future of Central Asia’s shared mountain ecosystems, depends on continued cooperation across borders. At this moment, we call for stronger partnerships and greater investment in transboundary biodiversity conservation across Central Asia — investment that protects ecosystems while creating opportunity, resilience and hope for the people who call these mountains home. The snow leopard does not recognize national borders. Neither do rivers, droughts, dust storms or climate impacts. Our response cannot stop at borders either. By investing together in nature, Central Asia can strengthen resilience, create opportunity and protect the ecosystems that sustain future generations.

Washington Links TRIPP and Jackson-Vanik Repeal in Push Toward Central Asia

A notable strategic shift is taking place in U.S. foreign policy, one that could have a long-term impact on the economic architecture of Eurasia. After decades in which Central Asia and the South Caucasus were viewed largely through the lens of security, counterterrorism, and competition with Russia and China, Washington is increasingly emphasizing trade, investment, transport routes, and access to critical minerals. One of the clearest signs of this shift came during a recent hearing before the U.S. Senate Foreign Relations Committee, where Senator Steve Daines and Secretary of State Marco Rubio discussed the implementation of the U.S.-backed Trump Route for International Peace and Prosperity (TRIPP) framework, as well as the need to remove the outdated Jackson-Vanik trade restrictions. At first glance, these may appear to be separate issues: the peace process in the South Caucasus and Cold War-era trade legislation. In reality, however, they are closely connected. Together, they point to a broader U.S. effort to link Central Asia, the South Caucasus, and Western markets through trade, transport, and investment. In recent years, Republican Senator Steve Daines of Montana has emerged as one of the most active advocates of expanding America’s presence in Central Asia. As co-chair of the Senate Central Asia Caucus and one of the leading proponents of legislative efforts to repeal Jackson-Vanik restrictions, Daines has consistently argued for stronger trade and investment ties between the United States and the countries of the region. During the hearing, Daines placed particular emphasis on the importance of the Armenia-Azerbaijan peace process, describing it as one of the most underappreciated diplomatic efforts of recent years. According to the senator, resolving the conflict could open the door to a large-scale economic transformation of the wider region. Particularly noteworthy was his reference to a geopolitical concept associated with former U.S. National Security Advisor Zbigniew Brzezinski. In Daines’ formulation, Central Asia represents the “bottle,” while Azerbaijan serves as its “cork.” Opening transport routes through the South Caucasus, he argued, would allow flows of oil, gas, critical minerals, and other resources to move toward Western markets rather than toward Russia, China, or Iran. Daines said this approach helped address some of the most difficult issues in the Armenia-Azerbaijan settlement process and laid the foundation for what he called a “landmark agreement” after nearly four decades of conflict. Secretary of State Marco Rubio described TRIPP as an initiative capable of fundamentally transforming Armenia’s economic role in the region. According to Rubio, the framework not only addresses the issue of transport access, which had long been a source of disagreement between Baku and Yerevan, but also creates an opportunity for Armenia to become a major trade and logistics hub connecting Europe and Asia. Rubio described TRIPP as central to the Armenia-Azerbaijan settlement framework, emphasizing that the project could generate substantial investment flows and attract U.S. companies to infrastructure and transport projects across the region. Washington’s argument is that trade, transit, investment, and infrastructure can give the political settlement a stronger economic base. Unlike many previous peace initiatives, TRIPP is built around tangible economic incentives: trade, transit, investment, and infrastructure development. It is within this broader strategy that the question of repealing the Jackson-Vanik amendment acquires new significance. The amendment was adopted by the U.S. Congress in 1974 as a means of pressuring the Soviet Union and other non-market economies that restricted freedom of emigration. The law denied such countries most-favored-nation trade status and imposed additional trade restrictions. Despite the collapse of the Soviet Union more than three decades ago, the amendment formally remains in effect for several post-Soviet states, including Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, and Azerbaijan. Although most of these countries receive annual waivers and effectively enjoy normal trade relations with the United States, the legislation itself remains on the books. At the hearing, Daines described Jackson-Vanik as one of the principal irritants in U.S. relations with both Azerbaijan and the countries of Central Asia. The senator argued that the restrictions have long since lost their original relevance and continue to impede the development of economic ties. Rubio’s response when asked about the Jackson-Vanik amendment was unequivocal. “It's a detriment. We'd like to see it removed,” the Secretary of State said. Kazakhstan’s ambassador to the United States, Magzhan Ilyassov, welcomed the exchange. “U.S.-Kazakhstan relations are at new heights and your engagement with Central Asia has played a pivotal role in that progress,” Magzhan Ilyassov said on X. He said that removing the “relic” of the Jackson-Vanik amendment would support “the new chapter in the partnership.” For many American policymakers, the issue has long ceased to be merely a trade matter. Today, Jackson-Vanik is increasingly viewed as a symbolic reminder that U.S. policy toward Central Asia still relies in part on instruments inherited from the Cold War era. For business, the issue is certainty. Major investment projects in mining, energy, transport infrastructure, and manufacturing are planned over decades. If normal trade relations depend on annual waivers, companies face an added layer of political and regulatory risk. This is why Congress regularly sees initiatives aimed at granting Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, and other Central Asian states permanent normal trade relations status. In recent years, such initiatives have attracted support from both Republicans and Democrats. That leaves Washington with a policy contradiction: it is encouraging American companies to invest billions of dollars in the region while maintaining legislative restrictions adopted more than half a century ago for an entirely different geopolitical era. The principal driver of growing U.S. interest in the region remains the desire to diversify global supply chains and reduce dependence on China. Today, Beijing occupies a dominant position in the production and processing of rare earth elements that are essential for batteries, semiconductors, defense products, and technologies associated with the energy transition. According to available estimates, approximately 170 rare earth deposits have been identified across the region. Kazakhstan possesses substantial reserves of tungsten, uranium, and other strategic metals, while Uzbekistan is actively attracting foreign investors to projects involving the extraction and processing of mineral resources. At the C5+1 Summit in Washington in November 2025, Kazakhstan signed agreements with American companies worth approximately $17 billion in aviation, digital technologies, and critical minerals. Uzbekistan also concluded major commercial agreements in the aviation and energy sectors. These projects suggest that Washington increasingly views Central Asia not as a temporary foreign policy priority, but as a long-term component of its economic security strategy. Despite growing U.S. engagement, competition in the region remains intense. China remains Central Asia’s largest single-country trading partner, while the EU is also one of the region’s main trade and investment partners. In 2025, trade between China and the countries of the region reached $106.3 billion. By comparison, trade between the United States and Kazakhstan, Washington’s largest partner in Central Asia, stands at approximately $5.5 billion. Moreover, governments in the region have increasingly pursued multi-vector foreign policies and have shown little interest in choosing openly between Washington, Moscow, and Beijing. This means that attitudes in Central Asia and the South Caucasus depend far less on high-profile political statements than on the ability to offer real investment, technology, financing, and infrastructure solutions. The hearing featuring Daines and Rubio was therefore a revealing moment in understanding how Washington’s view of Eurasia is evolving. In that sense, TRIPP and Jackson-Vanik repeal now sit in the same policy frame. One is meant to open new trade and logistics routes. The other would remove a Cold War-era barrier that still complicates American business engagement across the region.

EAEU Leaders Meet in Astana Amid Growing Internal Trade Disputes

Astana is hosting Eurasian Economic Union events on May 28-29, with leaders arriving on Thursday and the main meeting of the Supreme Eurasian Economic Council scheduled for Friday, May 29. The first part of Thursday was dominated by President Kassym-Jomart Tokayev’s meeting with Russian President Vladimir Putin and his delegation during Putin’s state visit to Kazakhstan. At the Palace of Independence, Tokayev and Putin introduced their official delegations to each other during the Russian president’s state visit, while Russian presidential aide Yury Ushakov said the Supreme Eurasian Economic Council meeting would begin on Friday morning in narrow and expanded formats. The Supreme Eurasian Economic Council is the highest body of the Eurasian Economic Union, which came into force on January 1, 2015. Now more than a decade old, the bloc is facing deepening internal contradictions driven largely by external economic pressure on Russia, the Union’s core member. Some of those tensions are linked to the bloc’s expansion beyond its original Russia-Belarus-Kazakhstan core. To understand the current state of Eurasian integration, it is necessary to revisit its origins, particularly the role played by Kazakhstan and its first president, Nursultan Nazarbayev, who had sought to preserve a looser union among the Soviet republics as the USSR collapsed. As prime minister and later president of the Kazakh SSR, Nazarbayev understood the economic consequences that would follow the collapse of the integrated Soviet economic system, and how deeply Kazakhstan remained tied to Soviet-era supply chains, infrastructure, and decision-making structures centered in Moscow. Nazarbayev first publicly proposed the idea of Eurasian integration in 1994 during a lecture at Moscow State University. At the time, however, the administration of Russian President Boris Yeltsin showed little interest in the concept. That changed after Vladimir Putin came to power. In 2001, the Eurasian Economic Community, known as EurAsEC, was established, bringing together Belarus, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Russia, and Tajikistan. The founding agreement had been signed in Astana in October 2000. Uzbekistan joined EurAsEC in 2006, but suspended its membership only two years later. Meanwhile, Russia, Belarus, and Kazakhstan launched work in 2007 on creating a Customs Union, which officially came into existence in 2010. In the autumn of 2011, Putin announced plans to establish a Eurasian Economic Union based on a future Single Economic Space. Two years later, Nazarbayev proposed dissolving EurAsEC in connection with the planned creation of the EAEU by Russia, Kazakhstan, and Belarus. Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, and Armenia were invited to join the Customs Union. However, by 2014, when the treaty establishing the EAEU and dissolving EurAsEC was signed, neither Armenia nor Kyrgyzstan had initially been central to the Eurasian project. At that stage, much of the discussion revolved around the possible accession of Ukraine. Russian political commentator and current State Duma deputy Anatoly Wasserman devoted several books to the idea of integrating Ukraine into the Russia-Belarus-Kazakhstan project, including Ukraine and the Rest of Russia. Wasserman argued that Russia, Belarus, Kazakhstan, and Ukraine needed to move away from a raw-materials-based economic model by creating a unified market for industrial production. At the time, Ukraine’s population of around 40 million would have expanded the EAEU’s consumer market to more than 200 million people, making large-scale industrial production economically viable. Today, the combined population of EAEU member states is usually estimated at more than 185 million. “Raw material exports have exhausted their potential,” Wasserman said in an interview during that period. “I also believe that an economy focused on foreign investment is a flawed model. The new economic system should be oriented not toward foreign capital, but toward development within the Eurasian Economic Union, toward the creation of a single interconnected economic complex in which all participants are equally interested in the development of the common economy.” Around the same time, the project was drawing sharper scrutiny from Washington. In 2012, then-U.S. Secretary of State Hillary Clinton described Russian-led Eurasian integration efforts as an attempt to “re-Sovietize the region.” By early 2014, hopes of bringing Ukraine into the EAEU had collapsed. In one interpretation, Armenia and Kyrgyzstan became the next additions to a project whose earlier economic logic had assumed a larger Ukrainian market. Some studies of Kazakhstan’s role in the EAEU have noted that Astana opposed the accession of Armenia and Kyrgyzstan, reflecting concern that the bloc was moving beyond its original core. In recent years, Moscow’s relations with Armenia have deteriorated. The rupture with Yerevan deepened after Azerbaijan’s 2023 takeover of Nagorno-Karabakh, when Armenian officials increasingly blamed Russia and the Russian-led security framework for failing to protect Armenian interests. Russia has since imposed restrictions on several Armenian products amid the diplomatic fallout from Yerevan’s tilt toward the West. Tensions rose further after Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy visited Armenia in May, prompting Moscow to summon the Armenian ambassador and accuse Yerevan of giving Kyiv a platform for anti-Russian statements.

Kyrgyzstan, meanwhile, remains heavily exposed to Russia through labor migration and remittances, making any dispute with Moscow politically and economically sensitive. Even so, Bishkek has taken Russia to the EAEU Court over health insurance rights for migrant workers’ families, underscoring how practical disputes inside the bloc can spill into formal legal channels.

Opinion: Water Without a Guarantor – Central Asia’s Next Security Test

The Fourth High-Level International Conference on the International Decade for Action, “Water for Sustainable Development,“ taking place in Dushanbe on May 25-28, comes at a difficult moment. Central Asia's water problem is no longer only about environmental management; it is moving into the field of regional security. The conference agenda is familiar and necessary: climate, investment, innovation, transboundary cooperation, and the implementation of the Water Action Decade. The harder question is what happens outside the conference hall. Does Central Asia still have a credible way to stop water stress from becoming an interstate crisis? For decades, the region operated in a post-Soviet setting in which Moscow shaped many security calculations, even though it was never a formal water arbiter. That setting has weakened. Russia has not disappeared from Central Asia, and it still retains military, economic, and institutional leverage. But since 2022, its role as the assumed external stabilizer has become less convincing. The result is not a simple vacuum. It is a more awkward reality: a region with many outside actors, but no trusted water-security guarantor. The Old Backdrop Is Weakening Central Asia's water system was built around a Soviet-era division of functions. Upstream republics, Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan, controlled the mountains, reservoirs, and hydropower potential. Downstream republics, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, and Turkmenistan, depended on seasonal water flows for agriculture, food security, and social stability. The Soviet system managed those tensions through central planning. After independence, cooperation became more fragile. Water, energy, borders, electricity, and agriculture were separated into national strategies. The rivers, however, remained transboundary. For many years, Russia remained the largest external power around which regional security calculations were organized. That did not make Moscow an effective water manager, but it helped shape the political environment. Today, that environment has changed. The CSTO did not prevent the Kyrgyz-Tajik border escalations of recent years. Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan eventually reached a border agreement through direct negotiation rather than outside enforcement. That difference is not academic. Water disputes are rarely settled by conferences alone. They need trusted channels for mediation, compensation, and restraint when pressure builds. Central Asia has plenty of statements about cooperation. It has fewer tools for managing coercion when water becomes scarce. Three Pressure Points The region's water-security stress is already visible in three places. The first is Afghanistan's Qosh-Tepa Canal. The canal draws water from the Amu Darya, a river system critical for Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan. Because Afghanistan was not part of the old Soviet water-allocation arrangements, the Taliban government is creating a new upstream reality outside the inherited regional framework. Estimates of the canal's downstream impact vary widely. Some analyses suggest it could divert between 15 and 30% of the Amu Darya's flow, depending on the completion timeline, irrigation efficiency, and water-management practices. The Times of Central Asia previously reported that reduced Amu Darya flows could indirectly affect Kazakhstan if Uzbekistan compensates by drawing more heavily on the Syr Darya. Carnegie has described the Qosh-Tepa as a serious test for regional water cooperation. The second pressure point is Uzbekistan's turn toward small hydropower and water-energy adaptation. Tashkent is trying to reduce energy stress while managing water constraints. The World Bank has supported Uzbekistan's efforts to expand small hydropower, including projects on existing irrigation canals. That is a rational policy, as small hydropower can generate electricity without the same political weight as large dams. But it also shows how policy is changing. States are adapting on their own to water and energy stress. Even sensible projects can create downstream anxiety if they change timing, flow management, or perceptions of control. In water politics, perception can count almost as much as hydrology. The third pressure point is upstream hydropower in Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan. Tajikistan's Rogun hydropower project, historically a source of tension with downstream Uzbekistan, is now developing in a more accepting regional climate. It is designed to address chronic winter electricity shortages and strengthen national energy security. The World Bank has backed the project with financing, saying Rogun could help provide more reliable electricity for millions of people in Tajikistan. At the same time, Rogun remains sensitive. Any major upstream project raises questions for downstream users about reservoir filling and long-term flow management. Kyrgyzstan's Kambarata-1 project has a different political structure because Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan are involved in its development framework. The World Bank notes that the Kyrgyz Republic, Kazakhstan, and Uzbekistan signed a ministerial agreement in 2024 to collectively pursue the project. That makes Kambarata-1 a potential model for cooperation rather than conflict. It also confirms the larger point: water-energy infrastructure is becoming central to regional security. Many Actors, No Guarantor Central Asia does not lack outside attention. It has plenty. Russia remains present, but its role as the uncontested regional manager has weakened. China dominates economically and has deep interests in stability, transport corridors, and investment protection. But Beijing is cautious about becoming a political arbiter in local water disputes. Türkiye is expanding its role through the Organization of Turkic States, defense cooperation, and cultural diplomacy, but it does not have the mandate or capacity to manage water conflicts. The United States and the European Union engage through C5+1, climate, connectivity, and development formats, but they are too distant to function as hard security guarantors. That leaves a serious gap. If a water crisis becomes a diplomatic dispute, there are channels for discussion. If it becomes a financing problem, there are development banks. If it becomes a technical question, there are experts. But if water stress becomes coercive, and states accuse each other of withholding flows, damaging agriculture, or threatening food security, it is unclear who can compel restraint. That is the meaning of water without a guarantor. Scenarios for the Next 6-12 Months The most likely outcome is not a major interstate spat. It is a gradual rise in local water stress, sharper rhetoric, and more frequent disputes around reservoirs, irrigation, energy releases, and border communities. A more serious scenario would combine a dry season with electricity shortages, food price pressure, and accusations over upstream or downstream behavior. In that case, governments may use water language to mobilize domestic opinion, even if they still avoid open confrontation. The escalation scenario is less likely, but more dangerous. A local incident near a border, canal, reservoir, or irrigation zone could combine with drought, social frustration, and weak arbitration. The danger would not be water alone. It would be water plus food prices, energy shortages, and national security rhetoric. Central Asia has already seen how quickly local grievances can become strategic shocks. The water system is now one of the places where such shocks could emerge. Markers to Watch Five indicators will show whether Central Asia's water stress is moving toward cooperation or confrontation. First, water levels in major reservoirs, especially Toktogul in Kyrgyzstan and Nurek in Tajikistan, ahead of the winter energy season and the next irrigation cycle. Second, the pace of construction and water intake at Afghanistan's Qosh-Tepa Canal, especially if downstream states begin to describe the project in security terms. Third, official rhetoric from Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and Tajikistan. Language that frames water use as a security threat, unlawful withdrawal, or hostile pressure would signal a shift from technical disagreement to securitized politics. Fourth, the implementation of cooperative hydropower projects such as Kambarata-1. If Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, and Kyrgyzstan can make the project work, it could become a stabilizing model. If trust breaks down, it will become another warning sign. Fifth, the response of outside actors to water-linked incidents. If Russia, China, the OTS, the EU, and the U.S. limit themselves to statements, the region will learn that no outside actor is prepared to enforce restraint. The Real Test Central Asian governments increasingly speak in terms of sovereignty. That is understandable. Each state wants control over its resources, energy future, food security, and infrastructure. But water sovereignty has a paradox. No Central Asian state can secure water alone. Upstream states need electricity and development. Downstream states need irrigation and agricultural stability. Afghanistan is entering the equation as a new upstream user. Climate pressure is making every calculation more uncertain. The Dushanbe conference is therefore important. It also exposes the gap between diplomacy and enforcement. Central Asia does not lack water forums. It lacks a credible mechanism for preventing water stress from becoming a security crisis. The region is not destined for the once-projected water wars, but it is entering a period in which water will become a stronger trigger for political pressure, domestic instability, and interstate suspicion. That is the test: not whether Central Asia can speak about cooperation in Dushanbe, but whether it can build a system that still works when the rivers run low.   The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the publication, its affiliates, or any other organizations mentioned.

Opinion: Silk Seven or the OTS? Central Asia May Not Have to Choose

A new proposal circulating in Washington – the Silk Seven Plus (S7+) initiative – aims to reshape Central Asia by linking its five post-Soviet states with Afghanistan and Pakistan into an integrated economic region. Azerbaijan is also seen as a potential addition. The idea, advanced by the New Lines Institute for Strategy and Policy, is straightforward: connect landlocked Central Asia to the Black Sea and Arabian Sea through new trade corridors. On paper, the bloc looks compelling. The seven countries form a contiguous zone in the heart of Eurasia, potentially turning geography from a constraint to an advantage. “Central Asia needs an organization built by Central Asian states and for Central Asian states,” said Justin Burke, a resident senior fellow at the New Lines Institute, at a recent event in Washington. “If Central Asia can speak with one voice rather than five different voices, that will make it a more reliable investment destination.” There are signs of momentum. Kazakhstan’s President Kassym-Jomart Tokayev and Uzbekistan’s President Shavkat Mirziyoyev made back-to-back visits to Pakistan earlier this year, highlighting regional connectivity. Proponents argue that if Afghanistan stabilizes, the Silk Seven could become a formidable cluster. But that is a big “if.” It also raises a deeper question: why construct a new, geographically convenient bloc when an existing organization – the Organization of Turkic States (OTS)—already offers something deeper: shared language, history, and identity? While the Silk Seven spans broadly Muslim-majority countries, it is linguistically and culturally diverse. The grouping spans Turkic-speaking Central Asia, Persian-speaking Tajikistan, and Indo-Aryan Pakistan. ASEAN offers a cautionary example. Despite decades of cooperation, its religious, linguistic, and geopolitical diversity – combined with consensus-based decision-making – has often prevented it from speaking with one voice, particularly on China. In The Clash of Civilizations, Samuel Huntington wrote that when ASEAN was created in 1967 by Indonesia, Malaysia, the Philippines, Singapore, and Thailand, it was an organization of “one Sinic, one Buddhist, one Christian, and two Muslim member states.” Such multicivilizational regional organizations have limits, he said. The Silk Seven risks similar limitations. The OTS, by contrast, rests on a narrower but deeper foundation: its core members—Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Turkey, and Uzbekistan—share closely related languages and overlapping historical experiences. Tucked away in the eight-page document issued after the informal OTS summit earlier this month was a revealing signal of intent: clauses dedicated to cataloguing Turkic cultural heritage, promoting youth engagement through Khiva’s designation as the 2026 Youth Capital, and launching a “Turkic Heritage” digital platform. Together, they show that the OTS is actively building a shared cultural space. Yet even as members emphasize common heritage, differences remain over how far the organization should evolve politically. Kazakhstan’s President Kassym-Jomart Tokayev, the summit host, stressed in his remarks that “the Organization of Turkic States is neither a geopolitical project nor a military organization,” but rather “a unique platform” for cooperation across trade, technology, culture, and humanitarian ties. Azerbaijan’s President Ilham Aliyev struck a more ambitious note, saying that “the Turkic world must grow into one of the influential geopolitical centers of the 21st century,” and pledging that Baku would spare no effort to strengthen the organization. The question of OTS surfaced at a recent New Lines Institute seminar in Washington. Asked why the OTS could not be sufficient, Kamran Bokhari of New Lines argued that it is shaped by Turkey’s leadership, reflects Ankara’s aspirations, and, as a Turkic-focused organization, would struggle to incorporate Afghanistan, Pakistan, or Iran. The Silk Seven, by contrast, is designed to define a “core Central Asia” while remaining flexible enough to expand. Azeem Ibrahim warned that the global system is weakening, leaving smaller states more vulnerable. “The assumption that great powers will uphold open trade and security can no longer be taken for granted,” he said, arguing that regional cooperation is becoming essential for resilience. Bokhari said the time is ripe for Central Asian countries to engage with the United States and that the U.S.-proposed Silk Seven could serve as a roadmap. “The Russian footprint is receding. The Chinese are taking up that space as much as they can,” but Central Asian nations do not want to move away from an overbearing Russia to be dominated by China. “Who do you reach out to? Well, you reach out to the United States,” Bokhari said. These competing visions – one rooted in connectivity, the other in shared identity – highlight the central dilemma facing the region. The appeal of the Silk Seven lies in geography and connectivity. But the strength of OTS lies in a shared civilizational identity. In an era of geopolitical fragmentation, Central Asia may find that infrastructure enables growth–but identity anchors political cohesion. For centuries, Central Asia’s nomadic societies thrived not by choosing fixed alignments, but by remaining fluid—adapting to shifting trade routes, political currents, and external powers. Mobility and flexibility were not weaknesses, but survival strategies. In that sense, the Silk Seven and the Organization of Turkic States need not be competing visions. Central Asia’s strength may lie precisely in its ability to straddle both—building multiple connections without being bound by any single framework.   The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the publication, its affiliates, or any other organizations mentioned.

Central Asia Feels Fuel Strain as Kazakhstan Prices Edge Higher

Kazakhstan's fuel market is moving into a new phase after the end of the government freeze on AI-92 gasoline and diesel. Pump prices have risen by small amounts so far. Retail prices are rising cautiously amid growing pressure from neighbors where fuel costs more. Kazakhstan still has some of the cheapest gasoline in the region, but that advantage creates a risk: cheap fuel attracts cross-border demand and makes it harder to fund the refining capacity the country says it needs. On October 16, 2025, Kazakhstan's government introduced a moratorium on further increases in AI-92 gasoline and diesel as part of a wider anti-inflation package. The decision also put the Energy Ministry, the competition agency, and regional authorities in charge of keeping supplies stable. The measure came after inflation and tariff reforms had raised concerns about household costs. The freeze ended on April 1, 2026, but by mid-April, the Energy Ministry was still trying to calm expectations. Kazinform cited Vice Minister of Energy Kaiyrkhan Tutkyshbayev on April 14 as saying most prices had risen mainly by one tenge after the moratorium was lifted, and that the state would not allow a sharp jump. The tone matched what drivers were seeing: a controlled rise rather than a sudden reset. The memory of January 2022, when an LPG price jump helped spark unrest, still hangs over fuel policy. The end of the freeze also fed into inflation expectations. National Bank Governor Timur Suleimenov warned in April that renewed growth in fuel prices and utility tariffs had to be handled cautiously, because a sharp reset could reverse the slowdown in inflation. The National Bank later said reforms in utility tariffs and fuel prices accounted for 32.9% of household inflation expectations in March. That made the fuel moratorium more than a pump-price measure: it was one of the state’s main tools for containing expectations while inflation remained in double digits. An April 9 check by Tengri Auto found that most filling stations in Almaty and the surrounding area were still selling fuel close to the previous price range. Several major networks, however, had already moved AI-92 toward 240 tenge per liter. AI-95, which was not covered by the main freeze, had risen to 328 tenge at one network. A Kazinform market check published on May 25 showed the same gradual pattern. AI-92 was listed at 238-239 tenge per liter in Astana, 238-241 tenge in Almaty, and 224-227 tenge in Shymkent. Diesel stood at 329 tenge in Astana, 330-337 tenge in Almaty, and 332-335 tenge in Shymkent. The figures point to a market that is moving, but still under close control. Fuel is also feeding into Kazakhstan's broader inflation picture. The Bureau of National Statistics put annual inflation at 10.6% in April 2026. Petrol prices were up 16.1% year-on-year and added 0.53 percentage points to annual price growth. Transport as a category added 1.1 percentage points. Fuel is one of the costs households notice most directly, and its effects spread through freight, food distribution, agriculture, taxis, and public services. Fuel in Kazakhstan remains cheap by regional and global standards. GlobalPetrolPrices put Kazakhstan's 95-octane gasoline at 322 tenge per liter, or $0.684, on May 18. The database placed the same grade of gasoline at $0.977 in Kyrgyzstan and $1.125 in Uzbekistan. That gap helps drivers at home, but it also encourages gray exports and cross-border leakage. The problem is structural as well as immediate. Kazakhstan is a major oil producer, but that does not guarantee cheap gasoline. The country depends on three large refineries at Pavlodar, Shymkent, and Atyrau. A 2025 refining strategy says demand is still growing, while the government wants to expand future exports. That requires investment, and low domestic prices make investment harder when input and maintenance costs rise. The government has tried to keep supplies inside Kazakhstan, while avoiding sudden retail increases. Export limits have formed part of that approach. On April 30, the Ministry of Energy extended restrictions on the export of gasoline, diesel, and some oil products. The order includes a May 21-November 21 ban on road exports to Eurasian Economic Union states. Such controls can slow leakage, but they do not remove the price gap. Across Central Asia, fuel markets are being shaped by price gaps and import dependence. Russia adds another layer of pressure. Moscow has banned gasoline exports until the end of July 2026, although the restriction does not cover supplies under intergovernmental fuel agreements. That exemption can protect some contracted supplies, but regional prices can still be affected when Russian refining output falls. In May, Reuters reported that several central Russian refineries had halted or reduced output after Ukrainian drone attacks, and that the affected plants accounted for more than 30% of Russia's gasoline output and about 25% of diesel production. Kyrgyzstan has less capacity to absorb supply shocks. Fuel stocks in mid-May covered only about 1 to 1.5 months, against the annual demand of roughly 1.6 million tons. In Bishkek, AI-92 averaged 78.4 som per liter ($0.90); AI-95 cost 84.4 som ($0.97); and diesel stood at 91.9 som ($1.05). A temporary tax relief plan covering May 15 to September 30 would cut VAT on AI-92 to 8%, set VAT on diesel at zero, and remove diesel excise. Uzbekistan is facing a different version of the same strain. On April 7, AI-92 gasoline on the Uzbek commodity exchange reached 13.49 million soums per ton ($1,062), setting a record high for a second straight day. Since the start of April, AI-92 had risen almost 6.2%. Diesel eased after a sharp spike, but it was still more than 11% higher for the month. Supplies under intergovernmental agreements are outside Russia’s export ban, but exchange prices suggest that the market remains tight. Tajikistan has fewer domestic buffers. In October 2025, Reuters reported that Ukrainian strikes on Russian refineries had contributed to higher fuel prices in a country that relies heavily on Russian supplies. Prices in Dushanbe rose that month for AI-92, A-95, diesel, and LPG. The incident showed how disruptions in Russia can quickly ripple through Central Asian markets. Kazakhstan is better placed than its southern neighbors because it produces oil and refines much of its own fuel. However, it is also in a more politically delicate position because low fuel prices have become part of public expectations. The government can slow increases and restrict exports, but it cannot keep domestic prices apart from refinery costs, regional demand, and Russian supply risks forever. The likely path is a gradual rise, with officials trying to keep each increase small enough that drivers notice the cost without feeling a sudden shock.