Religion and Forced Displacement in Greece
After the fall of the Iron Curtain, Greece, until then a country of emigration, became a receiving country for immigrants primarily from the Balkan region. This migratory inflow diversified in…
Table 1. Refugee numbers in Greece, 2014-19
The OCG, through its own NGOs, has been heavily involved in dealing with the humanitarian aspect of the problem, even before the peak of the Syrian refugee crisis. It did so initially through its existing organisation and structures, which were intended to serve other purposes. For instance, the ICMW, which has been active since 1978 to assist former Greek guest-workers, and Apostoli, (‘Mission’), founded in 2010 to deal with the social problems of the Greek debt crisis.[29] Notably, Apostoli collaborates with the UNHCR within the framework of the ESTIA accommodation scheme and mostly focuses on unaccompanied minors and the vulnerable.[30] Initially its main purposes related to dealing with social problems pertaining to poverty, but its resources and foci were diverted in order to deal with the mounting issues of migrants. In 2012, the OCG founded a new structure, which succeeded the ICMW, under the name Integration Centre for Migrant Workers – Ecumenical Refugee Programme (ICMW-ERP), and focuses on asylum seekers, refugees and immigrants.[31] It is funded, among other sources, by the Holy Synod of the Orthodox Church of Greece, the UNHCR and Diakonie Katastrophenhilfe.[32] In summary, its services range from legal assistance, translation, social support, family reunification to international collaborative initiatives, including inter-ecclesiastical programmes.[33]
As of 2002 the ICMW has been involved in combating human trafficking via its participation in a programme led by the Churches’ Commission for Migrants in Europe (CCME) and in cooperation with Caritas Europe. It also took part in the STOP programme, as well as in the actions that succeeded it, known as Christian Action and Networking against Trafficking (CAT). [34] In this framework, the ICWM focused on the collaboration with state structures in combatting trafficking and slavery, supporting the victims of and forced prostitution.[35] Notably, the ICMW identified the inadequacy of knowledge and insight on the part of the state with regard to Muslim immigrants in Athens, and criticised this as a root cause of the lack of policies and integration strategies. Moreover, it conducted its own research in order to identify and document informal places of worship as well as the denominational, linguistic, ethnic, national and other qualitative characteristics therein.[36]
However, following its restructure and rebranding in 2012, which coincided chronologically with the outbreak of the Syrian civil war, as stated above, the ICMW-ERP repositioned its purposes and scope. Although special emphasis is placed on the vulnerable groups eligible for international protection and the socially vulnerable, i.e. unaccompanied minors, single-parent families, pregnant women, and persons of poor health etc.[37] According to its statute, its primary target groups are, besides Greek migrant returnees, refugees, asylum seekers and those groups that adhere to a humanitarian legal regime and are eligible for international protection, and those eligible for legalisation.[38]
Recent examples of the involvement of ICMW-ERP initiatives and cooperation include the programme ‘Rebuild our Lives - Legal Aid for Refugees in Athens’, with the support of Diakonie Katastrophenhilfe, the purpose of which was to provide legal and social support to those eligible for international protection.[39] Also, with the support of the UNHCR, the programme ‘Bringing Families Together 2018 – Legal Counselling / Assistance for Family Reunification of Persons of Concern with Specific Needs’ was realised. Its main purpose was to provide information, legal advice and assistance, translation services, as well as psychological and social support to asylum seekers who wish to be reunified with their families in the framework of Dublin III.[40] Particular emphasis was placed on unaccompanied minors and single-parent families.[41] Moreover, the Federation of Protestant Churches of Switzerland contributed, via the Churches’ Commission for Migrants in Europe (CCME), to the ‘Legal Aid for Backlog Cases of Ecumenical Refugee Programme’ that focused on processing long-standing reunification applications, via legal advice and representation of recognised refugees.[42] In addition, the ICMW-ERP, with the help of the Evangelical Church in the Rheinland (Evangelische Kirche im Rheinland) has provided legal and psychosocial support to particularly vulnerable cases.[43]
It must be noted that the need for successful, essential programmes has been recognised, and hence, alternative funding has secured their continuation. For instance, the Swiss Embassy intervened and secured the funding of legal and psychosocial support for vulnerable cases in relation to family reunification.[44] The same applies to the aforementioned programme ‘Rebuild our Lives’, which is now supported by Bread for the World, a sister organisation of Diakonie Katastrophenhilfe.[45] There is a range of similar examples that denote the role of the OCG in dealing with the refugee and migrant crisis, which is indicative but not exhaustive of its role and initiatives.
Policy perspectives
The OCG and its NGOs, as stated above, have made a valuable contribution in dealing with the influx of refugees, asylum seekers and irregular immigrants. This has been attested by its participation in international programmes and the acknowledgement of its crucial role by the Greek government. However, the ongoing immigration and refugee crisis cannot be dealt with by the church and its collaborating organisations alone. It is not even a solely Greek problem, but rather a European one. However, being the entry point to Europe and a hub on the Balkan route, Greece has more complicated responsibilities, while concurrently dealing with the consequences of the debt-crisis, notwithstanding the improvement of economic figures.
First and foremost, Greece, as an effective humanitarian refuge and in keeping with EU principles and values, has the inevitable duty to provide those in need with legal representation, translation services, safe and dignified lodgings, allowances for initial expenses, regular medical care and emotional support, access to education, language courses and training, as well as opportunities of integration. In tandem with the state, the OCG has been at the forefront of Greece’s response to these tasks, and will continue to be, but such services are certainly demanding in resources. In order to reduce the long backlog, apart from additional funding and the recruitment of trained staff to speed up the processing of cases, the church, in collaboration with the state, will need to continue to prioritise those in need, comprising, among others, vulnerable groups such as unaccompanied minors, families, victims of human trafficking, refugees and generally cases that constitute a humanitarian emergency. This essentially means applying a two-tier system, which distinguishes between vulnerable and non-vulnerable groups at the first reception stage. This distinction is essential as irregular migration burdens the overwhelmed system and its structures at the expense of those genuinely in need, or eligible to apply for asylum.
For the OCG, dealing with migration as a whole would be an impossible task, which is best left to the state. The church and its NGOs are better versed, structured, equipped and experienced to take the lead on the humanitarian aspect, while prioritising vulnerable groups. Hence, the qualitative division of labour should best be maintained. However, both the ICMW-ERP and Apostoli will have to be reinforced with additional staff and funding so as to reduce the backlog. In order to deal with the humanitarian challenges logistically, the state will need to better monitor the influx, residence and outflow of refugees and immigrants, keep a reliable and up-to-date register and database of this information, and make it available to the church and the corresponding international institutions.
Furthermore, irregular migration, while not the main cause, has been a catalyst in the resurgence of populism, which erodes support for European integration.[46] Therefore, Greece, as an EU Member State, must help counter populism in Europe by disproving arguments about an open-door policy, and show itself to be in control, by containing en masse irregular migrant movement and thereby its political utilisation and mediatisation. By extension, it must help preserve EU freedom of movement, a privilege often weakened by intra-EU and Schengen border controls and prevent the future suspension of a fundamental EU freedom as such. This entails guarding the national and external EU borders more effectively with the reinforcement of FRONTEX in the Aegean Sea and Thrace. In the same vein, it must coordinate its efforts with other EU Member States in order to speed up the repatriation of those whose asylum application has been rejected and collectively exert unitary pressure on the safe countries of origin to cooperate. Finally, the OCG and the relevant state ministries must insist on the reform or replacement of the Dublin Convention with a more pertinent framework, and insist on EU solidarity as a principle stemming from the equality between Member States.
Georgios E. Trantas is a Marie Skłodowska-Curie Postdoctoral Fellow at Aston University, Birmingham, United Kingdom. His recent publications include ‘Greek-Cypriot Religiocultural Heritage as an Indicator of Fundamental Rights and a Means to Cultural Diplomacy’, in Giordan G. & Zrinščak S. (eds.), Global Eastern Orthodoxy: Politics, Religion, and Human Rights (Springer, 2020), ‘The Orthodox Church of Greece: Church-State Relations, Migratory Patterns and Sociopolitical Challenges’, in Leustean L.N. (ed.), Forced Migration and Human Security in the Eastern Orthodox World (Routledge, 2019), ‘Greek-Orthodox Religioscapes as Domains of Migratory Integration and Hybridisation in Germany and Great Britain: A Comparative Study’, Politics and Religion Journal, (13) 2, (2019), pp.309-332, ‘The Question of a Contemporary Greek-Orthodox Economic Ethic’. Zeitschrift für Balkanologie, 54 (2), (2018), pp.217-228, and Being and Belonging: A Comparative Examination of the Greek and Cypriot Orthodox Churches’ Attitudes to ‘Europeanisation’ in Early 21st Century (Peter Lang, 2018).
Eleni Tseligka is a Teaching Associate in Politics and International Relations at Aston University, Birmingham, United Kingdom. Her latest publications include From Gastarbeiter to European Expatriates (Peter Lang, 2020) and ‘Greek Diaspora in Germany: Church as the Ecclesia’s Forerunner and Point of Reference’ in Giuseppe Giordan and Siniša Zrinščak (eds.), Global Eastern Orthodoxy: Politics, Religion, and Human Rights (Springer, 2020).
Cover photo: 'Tourists and refugees in Monastiraki Square, Athens, May 2014'. Copyright: Georgios E. Trantas
[1] Hellenic Statistical Authority, ‘Greece in Figures’, (2019), available at https://www.statistics.gr/documents/20181/1515741/GreeceInFigures_2019Q3_EN.pdf . All websites accessed on 2 December 2019.
[2] Pew Research Center, ‘Religious Belief and National Belonging in Central and Eastern Europe’, (2017), available at https://www.pewforum.org/2017/05/10/religious-affiliation/
[3] Pew Research Center, ‘Europe's Growing Muslim Population’, (2017), available at https://www.pewforum.org/2017/11/29/europes-growing-muslim-population/pf_11-29-17_muslims-update-20/
[4] U.S. Embassy & Consulate in Greece, ‘Report on Religious Freedoms 2018: Greece’, (2019), available at https://gr.usembassy.gov/el/religious-freedom-2018/
[5] Global Migration Data Portal, ‘Forced migration or displacement’, (2019), available at https://migrationdataportal.org/themes/forced-migration-or-displacement#data-strengths-amp-limitations
[6] UNHCR, ‘Operational Portal – Mediterranean Situation’, (2019), available at https://data2.unhcr.org/en/situations/mediterranean/location/5179
[7] Georgios E. Trantas, Being and Belonging: A Comparative Examination of the Greek and Cypriot Orthodox Churches’ Attitudes to ‘Europeanisation’ in Early 21st Century [Erfurter Studien zur Kulturgeschichte des Orthodoxen Christentums – BAND 16], Frankfurt-am-Main: Peter Lang, 2018.
[8] John S. Koliopoulos and Thanos M. Veremis, Modern Greece: A History since 1821, Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 2010, pp.154-55, as well as John S. Koliopoulos and Thanos M. Veremis, Greece: The Modern Sequel. From 1821 to the Present, London: Hurst and Co., 2002.
[9] Syntagma tēs Ellados (Constitution of Greece), Athens: Hellenic Parliament, 2010, p. 21.
[10]Ibid., pp.19; 26.
[11] The ‘Coalition of the Radical Left’ (Synaspismos Rizospastikēs Aristeras, Gr.: Συνασπισμός Ριζοσπαστικής Αριστεράς); Protasē tou Proedrou kai Vouleftōn tēs K.O. tou SYRIZA gia tēn anatheorēsē diataxeōn tou Syntagmatos, symfona me ta arthra 110 tou Syntagmatos kai 119 tou Kanonismou tēs Voulēs (Suggestion of the President and Members of Parliament of SYRIZA for the amendment of constitutional laws, in accordance with articles 110 of the constitution and 119 of the Parliament Regulation, Protocol No.: 4636, Date: 2/11/2018, available at https://www.hellenicparliament.gr/UserFiles/c8827c35-4399-4fbb-8ea6-aebdc768f4f7/%CE%88%CE%B3%CE%B3%CF%81%CE%B1%CF%86%CE%BF%20%CE%B1%CF%80%CF%8C%20%CE%A3%CE%B1%CF%81%CF%89%CF%84%CE%AE%20(215135).pdf
[12] The oath taken by the members of newly appointed governments ‘in the name of the Holy and Cosubstantial and Indivisible Trinity’. Likewise, heterodox or believers of other creeds take the oath as is customary in their own faiths, while a secular oath is also permitted in the existing constitutional and legal framework; Nea Dēmokratia, Gr.: Νέα Δημοκρατία.
[13] Tameion Prostasias Prosfygōn, Gr.: Ταμείον Προστασίας Προσφύγων; Concerned strictly with the population exchange, not to be confused with the Peace Treaty of July 24th 1923.
[14] John S. Koliopoulos and Thanos M. Veremis, Greece: The Modern Sequel. From 1821 to the Present, London: Hurst and Co., 2002, pp. 89-100, as well as Renée Hirschon (ed.), Crossing the Aegean: An Appraisal of the 1923 Compulsory Population Exchange Between Greece and Turkey [Studies in Forced Migration Vol.12], New York, NY: Berghahn Books, 2004. Also, Elisabeth Kontogiorgi, Population Exchange in Greek Macedonia: The Forced Settlement of Refugees. Cary: Oxford University Press, 2006.
[15] Gail Holst-Warhaft, ‘The Tragedy of the Greek Jews: Three Survivors' Accounts’, Holocaust and Genocide Studies, 1999, 13 (1), pp.98-108. Also, Andrew Apostolou, ‘“The Exception of Salonika”: Bystanders and Collaborators in Northern Greece’, Holocaust and Genocide Studies, 2000, 14 (2), pp.165-196.
[16] Dan Georgakas, ‘The Jews of Greece: A Chronology’, Journal of Modern Hellenism, 23 – 24, 2007, pp.1-11.
[17] Dimitris Charalambis, Laura Maratou-Alipranti and Andromachi Hadjiyanni, Recent Social Trends in Greece, 1960-2000, Montreal: McGill-Queen's University Press, 2004.
[18] Georgios E. Trantas, ‘The Orthodox Church of Greece: Church-State Relations, Migratory Patterns and Sociopolitical Challenges’ in Lucian N. Leustean (ed.). Forced Migration and Human Security in the Eastern Orthodox World, London: Routledge, 2019, pp. 164-206.
[19] Lina Venturas, ‘‘Deterritorialising’ the Nation: The Greek State and ‘Ecumenical Hellenism’, in Dimitris Tziovas (ed.) Greek Diaspora and Migration Since 1700: Society, Politics and Culture, Abingdon: Ashgate, 2009, pp.125-140.
[20] Ibid.
[21] Kosta Barjarba, ‘Migration and Ethnicity in Albania: Synergies and Interdependencies’, Brown Journal of World Affairs, 2004, 11 (1), pp. 231-239.
[22] Chain migration is defined as ‘that movement in which prospective migrants learn of opportunities, are provided with transportation, and have initial accommodation and employment arranged by means of primary social relationships with previous migrants’. See John S. MacDonald and Leatrice D. MacDonald, 'Chain Migration, Ethnic Neighbourhood Formation and Social Networks', The Milbank Memorial Fund Quarterly, (42) 1, (1964), pp. 82-97.
[23] Ifigeneia Kokkali, ‘Albanian Immigrants in the Greek City: Spatial ‘Invisibility’ and Identity Management as a Strategy of Adaptation’ in Hans Vermeulen, Martin Baldwin-Edwards and Riki van Boeschoten (eds.), Migration in the Southern Balkans, Heidelberg: Springer, 2015, pp. 123–142.
[24] Ruby Gropas and Anna Triandafyllidou, Migration in Greece at a Glance, Athens: ELIAMEP – Hellenic Foundation for European and Foreign Policy, October 2005, p.7.
[25] International Organisation of Migration (IOM), ‘IOM in Greece General Information’, (2019), available at https://www.iom.int/countries/greece
[26] Interational Organisation of Migration (IOM), ‘Flow Monitoring Europe Arrivals to Greece’, (2019), available from https://migration.iom.int/europe?type=arrivals
[27] Eurostat, ‘Asylum statistics’, (2019), available from https://ec.europa.eu/eurostat/statistics-explained/index.php/Asylum_statistics
[28] UNHCR, ‘Operational Portal – Mediterranean Situation’, (2019), available from https://data2.unhcr.org/en/situations/mediterranean/location/5179
[29] Ekklesia, ‘Hē Nea ΜΚΟ tēs Archiepiskopēs “Apostoli” egkainiastēke stis 23 Noemvriou 2010’ (The New Archbishopric NGO “Mission” was Inaugurated on November 23rd 2010’), Ekklesia, 87 (11), 2010, p.901.
[30] ESTIA is a UNHCR-funded urban accommodation and cash assistance scheme for refugees and asylum-seekers. For further information see UNHCR Greece, ‘ESTIA’, (2017), available from https://estia.unhcr.gr/en/home/
[31] Orthodox Church of Greece, ‘«Κentro Symparastaseōs Palinnostountōn kai Metanastōn – Oikoumeniko Programma Prosfygōn», Istoriko’ (“Integration Centre for Migrant Workers – Ecumenical Refugee Programme”, History) available from http://www.ecclesia.gr/greek/koinonia/kspm.html
[32] An evangelical church social service agency of the German Protestant church and a major humanitarian actor since 1954.
[33] Additional websites: Official Website of the Church of Greece, http://www.ecclesia.gr/English/EnIndex.html; Integration Centre for Migrant Workers – Ecumenical Refugee Programme, http://www.kspm-erp.com/; Mission, http://mkoapostoli.com/; Bread for the World, https://www.bread.org/; Churches’ Commission for Migrant Europe, https://ccme.eu/; Council of Europe – Commissioner for Human Rights https://www.coe.int/en/web/commissioner/country-monitoring/greece ; Diakonie Katastrophenhilfe, https://www.diakonie-katastrophenhilfe.de; Evangelische Kirche im Rheinland, https://www.ekir.de/www/index.php ; Hellenic Republic – Ministry of Citizen Protection, General Secretariat for Migration Policy, Reception and Asylum, http://asylo.gov.gr/en/ ; Hellenic Statistical Authority, https://www.statistics.gr/en/home
[34] An EU initiative that dates back to 1996, and targeted human traffickers and sought to protect their victims. For details see European Commission, ‘Prevention and fight against trafficking in human beings - A European Union strategy since 1996’, MEMO/02/191, (2002), available from https://ec.europa.eu/commission/presscorner/detail/en/MEMO_02_191
[35] Euaggelia Dourida, ‘Ekthesis peri tēs Symmetochēs tēs eis tas Enarktērious Ergasias tēs tritēs Faseōs tou Programmatos Diktyoseōs tōn Ekklēsiastikōn Organōseōn Katapolemēseōs tēs Emporias Anthrōpōn (CATIII)’ (Report on the Participation in the Inaugural Works of the third Phase of the Networking Programme of Church Organisations on Combating Human Trafficking (CATIII)), Ekklesia, 83 (8), 2006, pp. 627–630.
[36] Antonios K. Papantoniou, ‘Mousoulmanoi Metanastes stēn Athena’ (Muslim Immigrants in Athens), Ekklesia, 86 (5), 2009, pp. 348–359, (pp. 348–351).
[37] Orthodox Church of Greece, ‘Kentro Symparastaseōs Palinnostountōn kai Metanastōn – Oikoumeniko Programma Prosfygōn, Omades Stochou’ (Integration Centre for Migrant Workers – Ecumenical Refugee Programme” Target Groups) on the Official Website of the Church of Greece, available at http://www.ecclesia.gr/greek/koinonia/kspm_omades.html
[38] Ekklesia, ‘Καταστατικό Αστικής μη Κερδοσκοπικής Εταιρείας με την Επωνυμία «Κέντρο Συμπαραστάσεως Παλιννοστούντων και Mεταναστών – Oικουμενικό Πρόγραμμα Προσφύγων»’ (Katastatiko Astikēs mē Kerdoskopikēs Etaireias me tēn Epōnymia “Kentro Symparastaseōs Palinnostountōn kai Metanastōn – Oikoumeniko Programma Prosfygōn”; Statute of the Non-profit Organisation with the Distinctive Title “Integration Centre for Migrant Workers – Ecumenical Refugee Programme”) available at http://www.ecclesia.gr/greek/koinonia/kesypame_katastatiko.pdf
According to the UNHCR ‘Risks that give rise to a need for international protection classically include those of persecution, threats to life, freedom or physical integrity arising from armed conflict, serious public disorder, or different situations of violence. Other risks may stem from: famine linked to situations of armed conflict; natural or man-made disasters; as well as being stateless’. See UN High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR), ‘Persons in Need of International Protection’, (2017), available at https://www.refworld.org/docid/596787734.html. Also, see the 2011 directive of the European Commission, ‘Who Qualifies for International Protection’, available at https://ec.europa.eu/home-affairs/what-we-do/policies/asylum/refugee-status_en.
[39] KSPM-ERP, ‘Rebuild our Lives – legal aid for refugees in Athens’, available at www.kspm-erp.com/rebuild-our-lives/
[40] ‘Regulation (EU) No 604/2013 of the European Parliament and of the Council of 26 June 2013 establishing the criteria and mechanisms for determining the Member State responsible for examining an application for international protection lodged in one of the Member States by a third-country national or a stateless person’, according to EUR-Lex, ‘Document 32013R0604’, (2013), available at https://eur-lex.europa.eu/eli/reg/2013/604/oj
[41] KSPM-ERP, ‘Bringing Families Together – Legal Info / Counselling for Family Reunification of PCWSN’, available at www.kspm-erp.com/bringing-families-together/
[42] KSPM-ERP, ‘Legal Aid for Backlog Cases of Ecumenical Refugee Programme’, available at www.kspm-erp.com/legal-aid-for-backlog-cases-of-ecumenical-refugee-program/
[43] KSPM-ERP, ‘Legal Aid for Vulnerable Cases’, available from www.kspm-erp.com/legal-aid-for-vulnerable-cases/
[44] KSPM-ERP, ‘Legal and Psychosocial Support’, available from www.kspm-erp.com/programs-new/legal-and-psychosocial-support/
[45] KSPM-ERP, ‘‘Rebuild our Lives’, available from www.kspm-erp.com/programs-new/rebuild-our-lives-2019-20/
[46] Stiftung Mercator, ‘Migration: Katalysator nicht Ursache von Populismus‘, (2018), available from https://www.stiftung-mercator.de/de/presse/nachricht/migration_katalysator_nicht_ursache_von_populismus/
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[post_content] => Introduction
Large-scale emigration has represented the single most important social - and even existential - challenge to the Republic of Moldova since the country proclaimed its independence in August 1991. Between 1989, when the last Soviet census was carried out, and 2018, the population of the young state decreased by almost one million citizens, from 3,657,665 to an estimated 2,681,735 by the end of 2018, according to the National Bureau of Statistics.[1] A similar trend can be noticed in the breakaway region of Transnistria, which counted only 475,100 inhabitants in 2015; a decrease of over 200,000 compared to 1989.[2] The process of migration overwhelmed both state institutions and Moldovan society at large; leaving them faced with the concomitant tasks of democratic state-building and the transformation from a Soviet-style command economy to a market-based system. It was against this backdrop that religious life in the country, especially the majority Orthodox Christian faith, experienced an almost spectacular revival, while also having to respond to the most pressing social issues, including the consequences of migration both within the country and in the ever-growing diaspora.
Religion, ethnicity and population
The religious demographics of the Republic of Moldova is dominated by Orthodox Christianity, which could have (had) the potential to serve as a unifying factor in the ethnically diverse society, which has been divided almost evenly between supporters of European integration and those who would prefer closer ties with Russia. However, the Orthodox faith has become embedded in societal debates regarding the identity of the Republic of Moldova, which has since 1992 been the venue of competing Orthodox churches, namely the Metropolis of Chișinău and All Moldova, subordinate to the Russian Orthodox Church, and the Metropolis of Bessarabia, subordinate to the Romanian Orthodox Church. The latter represented the reinstatement of a similar structure that existed in the inter-war period when the historical province of Bessarabia (which comprises most of today’s Republic of Moldova, except for Transnistria) had been part of Romania and has been promoting a pan-Romanian identity based on the view that Moldovans are, in fact, Romanians and that the Moldovan nation is a construct from Soviet times. The former takes a more inclusive view of its Moldovan flock, which comprises not only the majority Romanian-speaking population, but also the sizeable, mainly Russian-speaking ethnic minorities. It has also been promoting the worldview of the Russian Orthodox Church, which considers itself to be entrusted with the safekeeping of the identity of the former Tsarist Empire, which included Bessarabia.[3]
According to the latest Moldovan census of 2014, 90.1 per cent of the population is Orthodox Christian.[4] A more recent survey from January 2019 gives an even higher figure, finding that 91.4 per cent of respondents were faithful of the Metropolis of Chișinău and All Moldova and 3.7 per cent of the Metropolis of Bessarabia.[5] Moreover, the degree of religiosity is also significant. In a survey carried out in 2014, 31.3 per cent of respondents stated that they went to church either often or at least once a month, a figure that was higher than a decade earlier, when it stood at 22.6 per cent. Furthermore, the proportion of those who never went to church decreased from 25 per cent in 2003 to only 10.3 per cent in 2014.[6] Among religious minorities, only the Baptist faith has a following of more than 1 per cent of the population.
The diverging views on identity are also reflected in the statistics regarding the ethnic structure of the country. Thus, 73.7 per cent of respondents declared themselves to be Moldovans in the 2014 census, with a further 6.9 per cent stating they were Romanian. Ethnic minorities include Ukrainians (6.5 per cent), Russians (four per cent), Gagauz (4.5 per cent) and Bulgarians (1.8 per cent). While the religious demography of the internationally unrecognised, so-called Pridnestrovian Moldavian Republic (known internationally as Transnistria) is similar to that of Moldova as a whole, with approximately 90 per cent of the population belonging to the Metropolis of Chișinău and All Moldova[7] (albeit with no parishes of the Metropolis of Bessarabia), its ethnic fabric is significantly different, with only 28.6 per cent Moldovans, and with Russians comprising 29.1 per cent and Ukrainians 22.9 per cent of the population.[8]
Religion-state relations
Although the law on religious groups adopted by parliament in May 2007 stipulates both the equality of all religions before the law and public authorities (article 15, paragraph 1), and the principle of state non-intervention in religious affairs (article 15, paragraph 2), the same legal act contains a provision highlighting that the state ‘recognises the significant importance and the primordial role of the Christian Orthodox religion and, respectively, of the Orthodox Church of Moldova in the life, history and culture of the people of the Republic of Moldova’ (article 15, paragraph 5).[9] A similar provision exists in the corresponding Transnistrian ‘law’, albeit only mentioning the role of Orthodoxy and not of the Moldovan church.[10] This may reflect the fact that although the Eparchy of Tiraspol and Dubăsari is subordinate to the Metropolis of Chișinău and All Moldova, it is known to have a de facto special status, having been founded as a compromise between the Transnistrian authorities and the Russian Orthodox Church in light of the unrecognised status of the region.[11]
The Metropolis of Chișinău and All Moldova has at times been said to have benefitted from preferential treatment regarding taxation and donations of public property upon which to build churches; allegations which the Moldovan Orthodox Church has consistently denied.[12] The dominant position of the Metropolis of Chișinău and All Moldova is also reflected in its close cooperation with state bodies. Thus, it has concluded several cooperation agreements with institutions such as the Ministry of Labour, Social Protection and Family,[13] the Ministry of Internal Affairs, the Ministry of Defense and the Ministry of Justice. In coordination with the Ministry of Labour, for instance, the Metropolis has developed a network of social services, including day-care centers and shelters within churches and monasteries, while the church also provides spiritual guidance to army personnel and police officers, as well as prison inmates.[14]
According to its website, the Metropolis of Chișinău and All Moldova has specialised departments for religious education, pastoral work in the army and in the sector of internal affairs, youth work, social and charity work, cultural relations, spiritual work in hospitals and pastoral work in prisons.[15] A similar organisational structure exists within the Eparchy of Tiraspol and Dubăsari.[16] The homepage of the Moldovan Orthodox Church also lists six subordinate social-philanthropic institutions, including an orphanage and social centers.[17] It is not church policy to provide information on social work carried out in individual parishes and eparchies.[18] However, the Metropolis highlights the importance of individual parish social and charity work, as well as the need for cooperation with social, health and educational workers in each community.[19] The media has in the past noted critically that the activity reports of the above-mentioned structures are not published on the official website of the Moldovan Orthodox Church.[20] The Metropolis of Chișinău and All Moldova, while publishing press releases on individual social activities, maintains that it does not wish to praise its acts of charity.[21]
The Metropolis of Bessarabia has not as yet been in a position to conclude cooperation agreements with state institutions, yet it is active in the social field. It channels most of its charity work through the Diaconia Social Mission, which in 2018 had an annual budget of 459.000 euro.[22] Key social projects include support for vulnerable families and single mothers, food and clothing donations, assistance for the integration of orphans, canteens for elderly citizens, children’s and youth camps etc.[23] Notably, Diaconia cooperates with the (small) Roman Catholic community - and Caritas Vienna and Ambrosiana are among the international donors of the organisation.[24] Unlike the Metropolis of Chișinău and All Moldova, which has its own Theological Academy in the capital, most future priests of the Metropolis of Bessarabia study in Romania.[25]
Religion and forced displacement
The first significant wave of migration in the Republic of Moldova took place in 1992, when, during (March – July) and in the immediate aftermath of the short, yet bloody civil war between Chișinău and Transnistria, approximately 100,000 people fled to third countries and 51,289 were registered as internally displaced persons (IDPs) on territory controlled by the constitutional authorities.[26] A significant proportion of IDPs settled in the capital, where some were provided with housing.[27] However, after the end of hostilities the majority of IDPs returned to the Transnistrian region, with only 200 IDP families remaining on the right bank of the Dniester as of 2012. Furthermore, almost all people who had fled to Ukraine (60,000) also returned to their homes.[28]
The process of mass emigration from the Republic of Moldova started in 1993 against the background of worsening economic conditions. Indeed, by the end of the 1990s, the country’s GDP had dropped to one third of its pre-independence level, and a World Bank study estimated that in 1999 about 80 per cent of the population were living below the poverty line.[29] Destination countries were mainly Russia and, initially to a somewhat lesser extent, European Union (EU) member states. By 2004, the country had lost almost 300,000 residents compared with 1989 figures. The process of emigration subsequently intensified, reaching an annual figure of approximately 50-60,000 persons.[30] In 2018, remittances constituted 16.2 per cent of the country’s GDP; the 11th highest proportion in the world and the third highest among CIS countries.[31] Notably, whereas in the 1990s migration had been largely a male phenomenon, the intensification of the process of migration and especially the possibility of migration to EU countries, where care workers were sought after, led to a ‘feminisation’ of migration.[32] By 2017, the majority of Moldovan emigrants were women.[33] Moreover, Moldovan emigrants have a relatively high level of education, with 28 per cent being university graduates.
The demographic structure of Moldovan emigration has had serious consequences. In a country in which traditionally women were responsible for raising children and caring for elderly relatives, the ‘feminisation’ of migration has generated a wide range of social problems. Furthermore, data provided in 2017 by the Ministry of Education puts the figure of children with one parent abroad at over 77,000.[34] Also, the compound effect of the high level of education of emigrants and the growing number of women leaving the Republic of Moldova has led to staff shortages in the education and healthcare sectors.[35]
Moldovan authorities were unprepared for the challenges associated with managing the consequences of emigration at home, and with systematically engaging with the country’s new diaspora. During the early 1990s, a Department of Migration did exist within the Ministry of Labour and Social Protection, but the lack of efficiency thereof led to the creation of the State Service of Migration in 2001, the priorities of which were the preparation of a legislative framework on migration management, as well as drafting agreements with other countries regulating the status of Moldovan migrant workers.[36] In 2002, the first such document was concluded between the Republic of Moldova and Italy, and by 2006 a total of 19 similar bilateral agreements had been signed.[37] By comparison, until 2001 such agreements had only existed with Russia, Ukraine and Belarus.[38] However, the State Service of Migration was subsequently dissolved and diaspora engagement was – rather strangely – placed under the authority of the Bureau of Interethnic Relations (which is also responsible for national minority policies), before the Bureau for Diaspora Relations was operationalised within the State Chancellery of the Prime Minister in 2013.[39]
The Bureau for Diaspora Relations is responsible for coordinating state policies towards the diaspora. Yet despite this role, it has never truly had exclusive competence in this regard, requiring coordination with several ministries, including the departments responsible for labour and social policy, health, education, foreign affairs and internal affairs.[40] The ‘Diaspora 2025’ National Strategy, adopted in 2016, lists six ministries besides the Bureau for Diaspora Relations as having competencies in drafting and implementing policies related to migration.[41] Institutional volatility and the need for complex processes of coordination between various agencies represent one of the challenges in calibrating policies on diaspora engagement, especially since Moldovan administrative culture does not entail loyal cooperation between state bodies. In fact, different state institutions use different methodologies to determine the number of Moldovans abroad, leading to divergent data sets. Furthermore, there appears to be no systematic coordination between what has been the declared objective of Moldovan diaspora policy, namely fostering the return of emigrant workers, and domestic economic, social and labour policies and strategies. The International Organization for Migration notes, for instance, that there are no national assessments of the effects of emigration on the labour market and only sporadic research into the effects on social security.[42]
A special note should be made regarding the lack of reliable statistics on the Moldovan diaspora. The difficulty in establishing the number of Moldovan migrants abroad has two main reasons. First of all, the vast majority of Moldovan emigrants still maintain official residency status in Moldova, meaning that more approximate methods of calculating their number are necessary. The most recent methodology, which was presented by the National Bureau of Statistics in July 2019, defines an emigrant as a person who over the past 12 months has spent a total of 9 months outside the country, after having spent 9 months over the past 12 months in the Republic of Moldova.[43] Based on this system of determining the population, the ‘realistic’ number of people living in the country was estimated at 2,681,735[44] - and thus almost one million (!) fewer than in 1989. These numbers also offer only a partial picture, since circular migration represents a significant characteristic of Moldovan emigration patterns. For instance, in 2017 about 160,000 people left the Republic of Moldova, while almost 110,000 returned.[45]
A more significant problem is determining the number of Moldovan citizens by country of destination. The main reason for this is the high number of Moldovans who have taken the citizenship of other states. Notably, according to official Romanian statistics, between 2002 and March 30th 2018, 521,025 Moldovan citizens had obtained Romanian citizenship.[46] Since Moldovan citizens cannot work without a permit in the EU and therefore use their Romanian passports when settling in Western Europe, they cannot be statistically separated from Romanian citizens from Romania. Thus, the discrepancies between registered Moldovan citizens and the actual number thereof are quite high. For instance, in 2016 the Italian Ministry of Labour quoted a figure of about 150,000 Moldovan citizens registered in the country, which is the second most popular destination for Moldovan emigrants, whereas expert estimates put their actual number at almost 240,000. In other countries, the proportion of Moldovans registered as such by the authorities is even lower. In Germany, for instance, the 15,000 Moldovan citizens recorded in 2015 are estimated to represent only between 25 and 30 per cent of their true number, whereas in the United Kingdom about 90 to 95 per cent are in possession of EU passports.[47]
Even outside the EU it is hard to pinpoint the number of Moldovan emigrants. In Russia, which remains the single most important destination country, official data from 2016 provided a figure of 487,911 Moldovan citizens residing in the country.[48] Yet since 2006, when Russia introduced a so-called repatriation program, Moldovan citizens, including those who were not of Russian descent, have made use of this path to emigrate, and once having obtained Russian citizenship no longer appear in the respective statistics. This also holds true of Transnistrians, who have facilitated access to Russian citizenship.[49] Their emigration from the region to Russia therefore does not count as immigration from the point of view of the Russian authorities.
Despite being overwhelmed by the consequences of mass emigration, Moldovan state institutions do not appear to have systematically engaged with religious communities in order to jointly address the social consequences of emigration, both with regard to its impact on domestic affairs, and when it comes to engaging diaspora communities. In fact, the ‘Diaspora 2025’ National Strategy makes no mention of churches at all. This is especially paradoxical, since one stated objective is related to the consolidation of associations of Moldovans abroad, and in many countries, such as Russia, Italy or Portugal, the first such associations were centered around parishes where Moldovan emigrants converged.[50]
Notably, there has not been a systematic, centrally coordinated process of setting up Moldovan Orthodox churches abroad. Rather, individual Moldovan priests settled in Western European countries have over time established new parishes in countries such as Italy, France or Belgium.[51] Only later did the Moldovan Orthodox church start to systematically send priests abroad.[52] For canonical reasons, these cannot be subordinated to the Metropolis of Chișinău and All Moldova, but are included in the structure of the Patriarchal Exarchate in Western Europe, which is under the direct jurisdiction of the Russian Orthodox Church. It is only in Italy that in May 2019 the creation of a Moldovan Vicariate under the authority of said Exarchate was authorised by the Holy Synod of the Russian Orthodox Church, thus placing the 37 Moldovan churches in Italy under the authority of the Moldovan bishop Ambrozie of Bogorodsk for the first time.[53] As for the Metropolis of Bessarabia, its faithful in the diaspora are known to join Romanian parishes established by the Romanian Metropolises abroad, e.g. the Romanian Orthodox Metropolis of Western and Southern Europe or the Metropolis of Germany and Central Europe.[54] To a certain extent, the division of Moldovan Orthodoxy at home is thus reflected in the European diaspora as well, although this should not necessarily be overstated since some Moldovans may visit Romanian churches, which exist in a much higher number of places abroad. By contrast, in Russia Moldovans tend to visit local churches of the Russian Orthodox Church, although the building of the first Romanian-speaking church in the Siberian city of Surgut was blessed by Metropolitan Vladimir of Moldova in 2015.[55] Furthermore, since 2015 a church in Moscow – the Church of the Blessed Virgin Mary – has functioned as the Representation of the Metropolis of Chișinău and All Moldova in Russia.[56]
Moldovan churches in Western Europe play an important role in maintaining the culture and identity of parishioners, although there seems to be no systematic approach to the engagement of the local diaspora, with activities appearing to be the result of the initiatives of the local priest or community. Among the most widespread activities hosted or organised by Moldovan churches are Sunday or parish schools (e.g. in Mestre, Padua, Turin and Parma in Italy or Faro in Portugal), Romanian-language classes (e.g. in Montreuil in France and Padua in Italy), and the celebration of Moldovan holidays (e.g. Independence Day in Faro).[57] In 2015, Moldovan churches in Italy also organised the Week of the Orthodox Diaspora,[58] although this appears to have been a one-off event, whereas the Romanian Orthodox Church introduced the celebration of the Sunday of Romanian migrants on the first Sunday after August 15th in 2009, which is observed by churches both at home and abroad,[59] and thus also by the Metropolis of Bessarabia.
Notably, support for Sunday schools abroad was also included in the programme of the Moldovan government adopted in autumn 2015, with the Bureau for Diaspora Relations sending Romanian-language textbooks to Moldovan associations abroad which provided Romanian classes within the framework of Sunday schools at churches frequented by diaspora citizens.[60] Also, the Bureau for Diaspora Relations, with the financial support of the International Organization for Migration (IOM), has in the past offered grants to associations for so-called Educational Centers, with Moldovan religious communities numbering among the beneficiaries.[61] To a somewhat lesser extent, Moldovan churches also offer social services in order to help migrants adapt to their host country. One example is the church in Montreuil, which offers French classes, as well as other forms of support.[62] However, the social role of Moldovan churches abroad appears to remain limited, with less than 20 per cent of emigrants seeking their church’s help when faced with problems.[63] Paradoxically, in Italy, for instance, Moldovan migrants have appealed to the Catholic Church for support in the social sphere.[64]
While information on the activities of Moldovan churches is not available systematically, it is even more difficult to identify specific measures targeted at those left behind in the Republic of Moldova. The above-mentioned approach of the Metropolis of Chișinău and All Moldova regarding the non-publicising of its social activities impedes more in-depth research in this regard. Nevertheless, since it is church policy to support those in need, it can be assumed that the beneficiaries of its social activities include elderly people left behind by their emigrant children, single mothers left behind by emigrant male partners, children left in the care of elderly relatives or other socially vulnerable categories. The church basically compensates for the ineffectiveness of state institutions, which, especially in rural areas, lack the capacity to respond to the consequences of the mass emigration of working-age adults. At an individual level, parishes abroad have also been involved in the collection of goods to be distributed to vulnerable families at home.
More systematic information is available regarding the Metropolis of Bessarabia, which supports the families of children whose parents have left the country in search for work, leaving their offspring in the care of grandparents (or other relatives).[65] One Diaconia project even focuses on the creation of ‘a mechanism by which all the community actors (the tutelage authority, religious community, the school, social assistance) could work together to provide assistance to parents who plan to work abroad, [including] consulting services to the person who shall be taking care of the child, and inform[ing] children about protection against any form of violence.’[66] At present, about 1,500 children are monitored within the framework of the project. Through its parishes, which number almost 200, the Metropolis of Bessarabia also provides material and spiritual support, as well as psychological counseling, on an individual case basis, through direct contact with the children and the relatives taking care of them in the absence of their parents.[67]
A final mention should be made of the fact that because of the dire socio-economic situation, the Republic of Moldova has not been on the receiving end of migration. According to official information, in 2014 and 2015, a total of 257 Ukrainians and 116 Syrians claimed asylum in the country.[68] Moreover, among the mixed Syrian-Moldovan families that repatriated due to the conflict in the Middle East, the majority subsequently left the Republic of Moldova for Western European countries.[69] This did not prevent the issue of a perceived threat of Muslim immigration from being misused during electoral campaigns for the presidential election (2016) and the local election in Chișinău (2018), with fake news being actively promoted by certain segments of the media, including the possibility of 30,000 Syrian immigrants entering the country should the opposition candidate Maia Sandu become head of state. This approach was possible given the latent Islamophobia in a country in which at least certain segments of the Orthodox Church had protested against the registration of the Islamic League in 2011.[70]
Policy perspectives
Given the impact of emigration as well as the important role Orthodoxy plays in Moldovan society, a case could be made for a more specific partnership between state institutions and both Orthodox churches regarding both diaspora engagement as well as managing the needs of the people affected by emigration at home. A more systematic division of labour, enshrined or at least included as an option in a future legal framework on migration management, could generate synergy effects especially with a view to conserving the culture and identity of Moldovans abroad, including in particular knowledge of the Romanian language and making use of the expanding network of Moldovan religious communities in the diaspora. It would also be of great use to identify parishes of the Romanian Orthodox Church with significant numbers of believers from the Republic of Moldova. This network could also be a partner of the Moldovan state in providing social assistance for citizens abroad. In order to develop optimal policies, the collection of more systematic information on activities already carried out by diaspora communities centred around churches abroad appears essential.
At home, the collection of systematic information on relatives of emigrant citizens left behind is essential. The fact that different institutions provide sometimes significantly different numbers impedes the development of a holistic approach regarding the social needs of the people most affected by emigration. In this sphere it may also be useful to establish, a more specific division of labour between state institutions and religious entities, possibly based on the precedent of existing cooperation agreements between the Moldovan church and state ministries. Furthermore, there should be a more inclusive approach on the part of the Moldovan state towards engaging systematically with other religious communities providing social services, including in particular the Metropolis of Bessarabia, which has a wide-ranging network of projects but without state support, as well as other smaller religious groups active in the Republic of Moldova. Although the latter represent only a small fraction of the country’s population, they do provide social services as well and should be encouraged to share their expertise and best practices. Given the past privileged relationship with the Metropolis of Chișinău and All Moldova, the extent to which the current or future Moldovan authorities would be inclined towards a more inclusive approach in this regard remains to be seen, and will depend on the geopolitical orientation shaping government policies regarding its general approach to religious communities in the country.
Andrei Avram is Programme Coordinator at the Representative Office of the Konrad-Adenauer-Stiftung (KAS) in Romania, based in Bucharest. He also supports the Representative Office in the Republic of Moldova, and in the past served as an advisor with the Romanian Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Moldovan Ministry of Internal Affairs. His publications include 'Fragmentation, Fluidity and Personalization: Remarks On Shifts in the Pro-European Party Spectrum in the Republic of Moldova After 2014, Modelling the New Europe. An On-line Journal, 2017 (issue no. 23, pp. 31-44) and, with Martin Sieg, ‘Ambivalenz und innenpolitische Brüche: Die rumänische Europapolitik während der EU-Ratspräsidentschaft’, 2019 (Deutsch-Französischer Zukunftsdialog Working Paper, https://www.zukunftsdialog.eu/2019/06/21/ambivalenz-und-innenpolitische-brueche-die-rumaenische-europapolitik-waehrend-der-eu-ratspraesidentschaft/). He is also the author of ‘Orthodox churches in Moldova’ in Lucian N. Leustean (ed.), Eastern Christianity and Politics in the Twenty-First Century, London: Routledge, 2014, pp. 402-425.
Cover photo: ‘Noul Neamț Monastery, Chiţcani, December 2008’. Copyright: Andrei Avram
[1] Unless otherwise specified, figures regarding the Republic of Moldova refer to the territory controlled by the central government in Chișinău and do not include the breakaway region of Transnistria, which is referred to separately; ‘Population with usual residence in Republic of Moldova, by sex and age groups, at the beginning of 2019’, National Bureau of Statistics of the Republic of Moldova, available at http://statistica.gov.md/newsview.php?l=en&id= 6416&idc=168. All websites were accessed on 20 October 2019.
[2] Alla Ostavnaia, Cartografierea diasporei din Transnistria [= Ciclul de studii: Cartografierea diasporei, IV] (Mapping diaspora in Transnistria), Chișinău: Organizaţia Internaţională pentru Migraţie, Misiunea în Moldova, 2017, 18, available at https://www.iom.md/sites/default/files/publications/docs/Raport%20ROM.pdf
[3] Eduard Ţugui, Geopolitica ortodoxiei şi relația stat-biserică în Republica Moldova [= Policy Brief 6] (Geopolitics of Orthodoxy and church-state relationship in the Republic of Moldova), Chișinău: IDIS “Viitorul” and Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung, 2011, 3, http://www.viitorul.org/files/Policy%20Brief6%20Cult.pdf. For an overview of the Weltanschauung of the two main Orthodox churches in the Republic of Moldova, see Andrei Avram, ‘Orthodox Churches in Moldova’ in Lucian N. Leustean (ed.), Eastern Christianity and Politics in the Twenty-First Century, London: Routledge, 2014, pp. 402-425.
[4] A complete overview of the census results can be found at http://recensamant.statistica.md/en
[5] Institutul de Politici Publice, Barometrul de Opinie Publică. Republica Moldova, ianuarie 2019 (Barometer of Public Opinion. Republic of Moldova, January 2019), Chișinău: Institutul de Politici Publice, 2019, 78, http://ipp.md/wp-content/uploads/2019/02/BOP_02.2019-new.pdf
[6] Institutul de Politici Publice, Barometrul de Opinie Publică din Moldova, noiembrie 2003 (Barometer of Public Opinion in Moldova, November 2003), Chișinău: Institutul de Politici Publice, 2003, 91, http://ipp.md/old/public/files/Barometru/2003/bop_final.zip, and Institutul de Politici Publice, Barometrul Opiniei Publice. Republica Moldova, octombrie-noiembrie 2014 (Barometer of Public Opinion. Republic of Moldova, October-November 2014), Chișinău: Institutul de Politici Publice, 2014, 82, http://ipp.md/old/public/files/ Barometru/Brosura_BOP_11.2014_prima_parte-r.pdf
[7] Ivan Suvorov, ‘Papskij vizit (Papal visit), newspmr.com press agency, May 5th 2017, http://newspmr.com/novosti-pmr/zakonodatelstvo/16166
[8] Ivan Tynjaev, ‘Perepis’ naselenija PMR’ (Census of the population of PMR), newspmr.com press agency, March 9th 2017, available at http://newspmr.com/novosti-pmr/obshhestvo/15927
[9] The full version of the law (in Romanian) is available at http://lex.justice.md/viewdoc.php?action=view &view =doc&id=324889&lang=1
[10] The full version of the law (in Russian) is available at http://www.vspmr.org/file.xp?file=58405
[11] Tatiana Cojocari, ‘Noi gândim în rusă, visăm în rusă’. Demitizarea proiectului de reintegrare a Transnistriei’ (`We think in Russian, dream in Russian`. The demystification of the project of Transnistria’s reintegration) [= LARICS Analysis], Tiraspol, 2017, https://larics.ro/noi-gandim-rusa-visam-rusa-demitizarea-proiectul-de-reintegrare-transnistriei/
[12] Consiliul pentru Drepturile Omului, Raport al raportorului special pentru problemele minorităților, realizat în timpul misiunii ei în Republica Moldova (Report of the special rapporteur on minority issues, drafted during her mission in the Republic of Moldova), 2016, 9, https://www.undp.org/content/dam/unct/moldova/docs/pub/Raport%20al%20raportorului%20special%20pentru%20problemele%20minorit%c4%83%c8%9bilor,%20realizat%20%c3%aen%20timpul%20misiunii%20ei%20%c3%aen%20Republica%20Moldova.pdf
[13] Throughout the text, the names of ministries may differ, since they are referred to by their official designation at a particular moment in time.
[14] US Department of State, Moldova 2018 International Religious Freedom Report, Washington, DC: U.S. Department of State, 2019, 11-12, https://www.state.gov/wp-content/uploads/2019/05/MOLDOVA-2018-INTERNATIONAL-RELIGIOUS-FREEDOM-REPORT.pdf
[15] ‘Sectoare Sinodale’, Mitropolia Chișinăului și a Întregii Moldove (Synodal Sectors, Metropolis of Chișinău and All Moldova), available at https://mitropolia.md/sectoare-sinodale/
[16] ‘Eparxal’nye otdely, komissii i sovety,’ Tiraspol’skaja-Dubossarskaja Eparxija (Eparchial departments, commissions and councils, Eparchy of Tiraspol and Dubăsari), available at http://www.diocese-tiras.org/page.php?id=77
[17] ‘Activitate socială’, Mitropolia Chișinăului și a Întregii Moldove (Social activity, Metropolis of Chișinău and All Moldova), available at https://mitropolia.md/activitate-sociala/
[18] This is explicitly mentioned in the press release regarding the presentation of the yearly report of the Synodal Sector for Social Assistance and Charity from December 2016. See: Sectorul Sinodal Asistenţă Socială şi Caritate, ‘Sectorul Sinodal Asistenţă Socială şi Caritate a prezentat Raportul de Activitate pe anul 2016’ (Synodal Sector for Social Assistance and Charity, ‘The Synodal Sector for Social Assistance and Charity presented its Activity Report for the year 2016’), Metropolis of Chișinău and All Moldova, 22 December 2016, https://mitropolia.md/sectorul-sinodal-asistenta-sociala-si-caritate-a-prezentat-raportul-de-activitate-pe-anul-2016/
[19] Sectorul Sinodal Asistenţă Socială şi Caritate, ‘Şedinţa de lucru a Sectorului Sinodal Asistenţă Socială şi Caritate’ (Synodal Sector for Social Assistance and Charity, ‘Working meeting of the Synodal Sector for Social Assistance and Charity’), Metropolis of Chișinău and All Moldova, June 22nd 2016, https://mitropolia.md/sedinta-de-lucru-a-sectorului-sinodal-asistenta-sociala-si-caritate/
[20] Ana Gherciu, ‘Religie vs. activitate socială. Cere și ți se va da’ (Religion vs. social activity. Ask and you shall receive), Timpul (The Times), 3 November 2014, https://www.timpul.md/articol/religie-vs--activitate-sociala--cere-i-i-se-va-da-65465.html
[21] Sectorul Sinodal Asistenţă Socială şi Caritate, ‘Raportul’ (Synodal Sector for Social Assistance and Charity, ‘Report’).
[22] US Department of State, Moldova 2018 Report, 12; Misiunea Socială “Diaconia” a Mitropoliei Basarabiei, Asistăm cu drag față de aproapele. Raport anual 2018 (We assist with love for our neighbour. Annual report 2018), Chișinău: Misiunea Socială “Diaconia” a Mitropoliei Basarabiei, 33, https://www.diaconia.md/public/files/Diaconia_Raport_2018.pdf
[23] Misiunea ‘Diaconia’, Asistăm (We assist).
[24] Interviews with an Orthodox Church official and a Roman Catholic official, Chișinău, February, 2019; Misiunea ‘Diaconia’, Asistăm (We assist), 21.
[25] Interview with an Orthodox Church official, Chișinău, February, 2019.
[26] Valeriu Moșneaga, Asylum-seekers, refugees and displaced persons in Moldova: Problems of recognition, social protection and integration [= CARIM-East Explanatory Note 13/103] (European University Institute and Robert Schuman Centre for Advanced Studies, 2013), 1, https://cadmus.eui.eu/bitstream/handle/1814/62725/Explanatory % 20Note_2013-103.pdf?sequence=1
[27] Interview with an Orthodox Church official, Chișinău, February, 2019.
[28] Moșneaga, Asylum-seekers, 1.
[29] Ludmila Roșca, ‘Integrarea socială a migranților prin cunoaștere și comunicare. Abordare holistă,’ (‘The social integration of migrants through knowledge and communication. A holistic approach’) Relații Internaționale Plus, 2017, 2 (12), pp. 52-53.
[30] Roșca, ‘Integrarea’ (The integration), 52.
[31] The full dataset is available at https://data.worldbank.org/indicator/BX.TRF.PWKR.DT.GD.ZS?most_ recent_value_desc=false.
[32] Elena Vaculovschi and Dorin Vaculovschi, ‘Aspecte de gen ale migrației de muncă din Republica Moldova’ (Gender aspects of work migration from the Republic of Moldova), Administrarea Publică, 2018, 1 (97), pp. 94-97.
[33] United Nations, Department of Economic and Social Affairs, Population Division, International Migration Report 2017 (United Nations: New York, 2017), 9, https://www.un.org/en/development/desa/population/migration/ publications/migrationreport/docs/MigrationReport2017.pdf
[34] Ministerul Afacerilor Interne al Republicii Moldova. Biroul Migrație și Azil, Compendiul Statistic al Profilului Migrațional Extins al Republicii Moldova pentru anii 2015-2017 (Statistical Compendium of the Extended Migration Profile of the Republic of Moldova for the years 2015 – 2017), Chișinău: Ministerul Afacerilor Interne, 2018, 31, http://bma.gov.md/sites/default/files/sites/default/files/atasamente/comunicate/compendiul_statistic_al_pme_pentru_anii_2015-2017.pdf
[35] Nelly Filip and Natalia Coșelev, ‘Migrația ca problemă globală și națională’ (Migration as a global and national issue) in Grigore Belostecinic et al. (eds.) ‘Culegere de articole selective ale Conferinţei Ştiinţifice Internaţionale „Competitivitatea şi Inovarea în Economia Cunoaşterii’ (Collection of selected articles of the International Scientifc Conference Competitivity and Innovation in the Knowledge Economy’) Chișinău: Academia de Științe Economice a Moldovei, 2017, 259.
[36] Ion Loghin, Republica Moldova și fenomenul migrației în contextul extinderii UE (The Republic of Moldova and the phenomenon of migration in the context of EU enlargement), Chișinău: Departamentul Migrațiune, 2003, 2, http://irp.md/uploads/1195738280.pdf
[37] Cristina Haruța, ‘Relația statului de origine cu migranții. O scurtă analiză a unor instrumente de politică publică din Republica Moldova’ (The relationship of the state of origin with migrants. A short analysis of some public policy instruments in the Republic of Moldova), Revista Transilvană de Științe Administrative, 2017, 1 (40), p. 28.
[38] Loghin, Republica Moldova și fenomenul migrației (The Republic of Moldova and the phenomenon of migration), 2.
[39] Haruța, ‘Relația statului de origine cu migranții’ (The relationship of the state of origin with migrants), 37.
[40] Ibid, p. 28.
[41] The full text of the Strategy (in Romanian) is available at http://lex.justice.md/index.php?action=view& view =doc&lang=1&id=363576
[42] International Organization for Migration, Migration Governance Snapshot: The Republic of Moldova (2018), 4, https://www.iom.md/sites/default/files/publications/docs/Migration%20Governance%20Snapshot%20The%20Republic%20of%20Moldova.pdf
[43] Biroul Național de Statistică al Republicii Moldova, Notă metodologică privind estimarea numărului populației cu reședință obișnuită pentru perioada 2014-2019 (Methodological note regarding the estimate of the population with usual residence for the period 2014 – 2019), Chișinău: Biroul Național de Statistică al Republicii Moldova, 2019, 1, http://statistica.gov.md/public/files/ComPresa/Populatia/2018/Nota_metodologica_pop_resedinta_obisnuita.pdf
[44] ‘Population with usual residence in Republic of Moldova, by sex and age group, at the beginning of 2019’, National Bureau of Statistics of the Republic of Moldova, available at http://statistica.gov.md/newsview.php?l=en&id= 6416&idc=168
[45] The latter number also includes foreigners establishing residence in the Republic of Moldova. However, in 2017 only 3,712 foreign citizens were registered as having immigrated to the country. See: Ministerul Afacerilor Interne, Compendiul Statistic (Statistical Compendium), 15.
[46] Rodica Malic, ‘FALS: Numărul moldovenilor care solicită cetățenie română este într-o continuă scădere; doar 51 de cazuri în 2016’ (FAKE: The number of Moldovans who request Romanian citizenship is in continuous decline; only 51 cases in 2016), stopfals.md news portal, April 13th 2018, https://stopfals.md/ro/article/fals-numarul-moldovenilor-care-solicita-cetatenie-romana-este-intr-o-continua-scadere-doar-51-de-cazuri-in-2016-179997
[47] Valeriu Moșneaga, Cartografierea diasporei moldovenești din Germania, Marea Britanie, Israel, Italia, Portugalia și Rusia (Mapping Moldovan diaspora in Germany, Great Britain, Israel, Italy, Portugal and Russia) [Ciclul de studii: Cartografierea diasporei, III], Chișinău: Organizaţia Internaţională pentru Migraţiune, Misiunea în Moldova, 2017, 49-50, 56, https://www.iom.md/sites/default/files/publications/docs/Raport%20ROM.pdf
[48] Moșneaga, Cartografierea (Mapping), 45.
[49] Ostavnaia, Cartografierea diasporei (Mapping the diaspora), 19.
[50] Moșneaga, Cartografierea (Mapping), 127.
[51] Interview with a think tank official, Chișinău, February, 2019.
[52] Metropolitan Vladimir, ‘Interviul acordat de Mitropolitul Vladimir al Chişinăului şi al Întregii Moldove portalului ortodox ‘Pravoslavie i mir’ (Interview granted by Metropolitan Vladimir of Chișinău and All Moldova to the Orthodox portal ‘Pravoslavie i mir’), interview by Maria Seniciukova, Pravoslavie i mir (translated into Romanian and published on mitropolia.md), April 14th 2011, https://mitropolia.md/interviul-acordat-de-mitropolitul-vladimir-al-chisinaului-si-al-intregii-moldove-portalului-ortodox-%D0%BF%D1%80%D0%B0%D0%B2%D0%BE%D1%81%D0%BB%D0%B0%D0%B2%D0%B8%D0%B5-%D0%B8-%D0%BC%D0%B8%D1%80/.
[53] ‘Vikarij Patriaršego ekzarxa Zapadnoj Evropy budet okormlyat’ moldavojazyčnuju pastvu v Italii’ (A vicar of the Patriarchal Exarchate in Western Europe will take care of the Moldovan-speaking flock in Italy), patriarchia.ru press release, May 30th 2019, http://www.patriarchia.ru/db/text/5444501.html
[54] Official communication from the Metropolis of Bessarabia, in possession of the author, September 2019.
[55] Interview with a think tank official, Chișinău, February, 2019; Biroul Relații cu Diaspora, ‘Diaspora moldovenească din Surgut, Federația Rusă’ (The Moldovan diaspora in Surgut, Russian Federation), Moldova de oriunde, no. 2 (December 2016), 67.
[56] ‘Istoričeskaja spravka’, Patriaršee podvor’e. Predstavitel’stvo Kishinevsko Kišinevsko- Moldavskoj pri Patriarxe Moskovskom i Vseja Rusi’, (Patriarchal compound. Representation of the Chisinau-Moldavian Metropolis at the Patriarch of Moscow and All Russia), available at http://www.vvedenievbarashah.ru/o-khrame/istoricheskaya-spravka
[57] Examples of activities carried out by Moldovan Sunday schools in Italy can be found at: https://brd.gov.md/ sites/default/files/document/attachments/02_impactul_activitatii_scolilor_duminicale_in_italia_aliona_purci_0.pdf. Examples of activities carried out by Moldovan churches in Western Europe can be found, inter alia, at https://brd.gov.md/sites/default/files/pro_diaspora_kids_2016.pdf
[58] The full programme of the event (in Romanian) can be found at http://piacenza.cerkov.ru/2015/11/03/saptamana-diasporei-ortodoxe-a-republicii-moldova-in-italia/#
[59] Gheorghe Anghel, ‘Duminica migranților români’ (Sunday of Romanian migrants), Basilica Press Agency, August 19th 2018, https://basilica.ro/duminica-migrantilor-romani-3/
[60] Official communication of the Bureau for Diaspora Relations to the State Chancellery of the Republic of Moldova, 26 May 2015, https://gov.md/sites/default/files/biroul_pentru_relatii_cu_diaspora.pdf
[61] ‘Câștigătorii granturilor de 3500 $ pentru Centrele Educaționale din Diasporă’ (The winners of 3500 $ grants for Educational Centres in Diaspora), Biroul Relații cu Diaspora, available at https://brd.gov.md/ro/content/castigatorii-granturilor-de-3500-pentru-centrele-educationale-din-diaspora
[62] Valeriu Moșneaga, Cartografierea diasporei moldovenești în Italia, Portugalia, Franța și Regatul Unit al Marii Britanii (Mapping the Moldovan diaspora in Italy, Portugal, France and the United Kingdom of Great Britain) [Ciclul de studii: Cartografierea diasporei moldovenești, II], Chișinău: Organizaţia Internaţională pentru Migraţiune, Misiunea în Moldova, 2017, 102-103, available at https://brd.gov.md/sites/default/files/document/attachments/ 01_cartografierea_diasporei_moldovenesti_in_4_tari_ue_rom.pdf.
[63] Moșneaga, Cartografierea diasporei (Mapping the diaspora), 35.
[64] Ibid, 78.
[65] Interview with an Orthodox Church official, Chișinău, February, 2019.
[66] Misiunea “Diaconia”, Asistăm (We assist), 13.
[67] Official communication from the Metropolis of Bessarabia, in possession of the author, September 2019.
[68] Ministerul Afacerilor Interne al Republicii Moldova. Biroul Migrație și Azil, Compendiul Statistic al Profilului Migrațional Extins al Republicii Moldova pentru anii 2014-2016 (Statistical Compendium of the Extended Migration Profile of the Republic of Moldova for the years 2014 – 2016), Chișinău: Ministerul Afacerilor Interne, 2017, 22, available at http://bma.gov.md/sites/default/files/media/cs_pme_2017.pdf
[69] Interview with a Muslim community official, Chișinău, February, 2019.
[70] Ibid. Other website resources: http://statistica.gov.md, National Bureau of Statistics of the Republic of Moldova; http://brd.gov.md, Bureau for Diaspora Relations ; http://bma.gov.md Bureau for Migration and Asylum of the Ministry of Internal Affairs of the Republic of Moldova; http://www.mitropolia.md, Metropolis of Chișinău and All Moldova; http://www.diaconia.md, Diaconia Social Mission of the Metropolis of Bessarabia.
[post_title] => Religion and Forced Displacement in the Republic of Moldova
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[post_content] => Introduction
The Russian Federation is a unique example of a country where changes in society’s cultural atmosphere and religious consciousness depended more on forced displacement than on inner natural changes. The specifics of the religious situation in Russia include the combination of two historical factors: 1) the unprecedented migration waves that affected the territory of the present-day Russian Federation during the twentieth century, both before and after the revolution of 1917, and 2) the anti-religious campaigns that were more devastating on Russian territory than in the other republics of the Soviet Union.
Waves of forced migration, the deportation of entire nations under Stalin, and the migration and emigration of the 1990s all directly affected the religious landscape of Russia. First of all, the ethnic composition of many faiths has changed. For example, the ethnic composition of the Lutheran and Catholic communities changed and became more Russian. Whereas at the beginning of the 20th century it was mainly the German, Polish and Finnish populations that identified as Lutheran and Catholic, from the 1990s ethnic Russians came to make up a larger proportion of adherents to these groups, because of conversions due to the weakness of Orthodoxy, the emigration of Germans, decreasing numbers of Poles and Finns, and, in general, because of the growing interest of Russians in other confessions.
During the Soviet period, all faiths were under pressure due to the state’s anti-religious policy. However, the period after perestroika and especially the 1990s was a time of religious growth, and it became evident that the Russian Orthodox Church had lost its monopoly position. One of the manifestations of the new social role of Christian churches in civil society was their active work with immigrants (refugees and labour migrants). As in the European Union during the immigration crisis of 2015-2018, the position of Russian churches regarding immigrants strengthened their role in the public space and in politics, and spurred the development of their social work.
Religion, ethnicity and population
According to the preamble of the Federal Law on the Freedom of Consciousness and Religious Associations (1997), the state recognises the historical significance of Orthodox Christianity in Russian history and culture, and gives special respect to Christianity and certain other religions, namely Islam, Judaism and Buddhism. The Russian authorities divide ll faiths into ‘traditional’ and ‘nontraditional’.[1] This concept, while absent from the Russian Law on Religious Freedom, has been advanced by the Russian Orthodox Church and Patriarch Kirill of Moscow and all Rus’ since 2009. Orthodox Christianity, Islam, Judaism, and Buddhism are deemed ‘traditional religions’, while even Old Believers, Catholics, various Protestant denominations, and many others are not.
The concept of traditional religions not only pits worshippers against each other, it also ignores the religious diversity of Russia. Today there are between five and 15 million practicing Orthodox believers in Russia, ten million Muslims, three million Protestants, 500,000 Buddhists, 200,000 Jews, 150,000 Jehovah’s Witnesses (their organisation was recognised as extremist and banned in 2017), 100,000 Hindus, and 100,000 followers of other religious faiths (e.g., there are about 10,000 Mormons in Russia).[2] Thus, Russia corresponds with the average European level of religiosity among its population, with about 20 per cent participating to some degree in the activity of religious organisations in a country of more than 140 million inhabitants.[3]
The ROC has laid claim to the exclusive right to a close relationship with the government, and accuses Catholics and Protestants of proselytising in the canonical territory that it considers its own. According to the Russian Ministry of Justice, ROC organisations are the most numerous in the country: among a total of 31,473 registered religious organisations, there are 19,471 different ROC organisations (dioceses, monasteries and communities), 3479 Protestant and 5340 Muslim organisations.[4] However, field research published by the Keston Institute in 2010s shows that Protestants and Muslims may be twice as numerous as the official figures suggest.[5] For example, evangelicals are now the second largest Christian denomination in Russia after Orthodox Christians in terms of the numbers of practicing believers and presence throughout the country (five to 15 million Orthodox and three million Evangelicals).[6] In fact, in many regions of Siberia and the Far East, the number of Protestant communities and active parishioners is higher than the number of practicing Orthodox believers.
The concept of ‘traditional religions’ is based on the fact that each ethnic group has its own culture and its own religion, but this statement contradicts the ethnic composition of modern religious organisations. In Russia, parishioners of the Russian Orthodox Church are mainly ethnic Russians, although Ukrainians and Belarussians, fellow Slavic peoples, also tend to follow Eastern Orthodoxy. At the same time, there are also other ,indigenous peoples of Russia that are historically Orthodox (some coming to the faith in the Middle Ages, others in the 19th century). An important factor is that the head of the Russian Orthodox Church, Patriarch Kirill, regularly declares that Russian Orthodoxy is a multinational faith, and is not limited only to Russia, but also includes churches in Ukraine, Moldova, Belarus, the Baltic countries, Orthodox in Central Asia, Western Europe, the USA, Japan, Southeast Asia and Latin America.
Consequently, the Russian Orthodox Church cannot declare itself to be either the only religion of ethnic Russians, or exclusively a religion for ethnic Russians. The Russian Orthodox Church adapted itself to the concept of the ‘Russian world’ after the outbreak of the Russia-Ukraine crisis in 2014 due to the extreme politicisation of this term that became associated with ‘Russian aggression’ in Ukraine.[7]
Religion-state relations
After the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991, Russian legislation on religion was gradually tightened. Until 1997, there was a law on the freedom of conscience, which was adopted under Mikhail Gorbachev in 1990. Article 5 of this law proclaimed the separation of the church (religious organisations) from the state, and that the ‘state doesn’t interfere in the activity of the religious organisations’, ‘the state doesn’t finance religious organisations and the activity for the propaganda of atheism’. Article 8 gives permission for the activity of every religious community without registration.[8] There were no significant restrictions on the registration and missionary activities of religious associations. They could exist in two forms, either as a registered organisation or as a religious group that could operate freely without registration. In 1997, a new version of the law on the freedom of conscience was adopted, which proclaimed a special respect for the four traditional religions (Orthodoxy, Islam, Judaism and Buddhism) and introduced a moratorium on new religious organisations, which could henceforth receive full rights as a legal entity only 15 years after their registration as a community. However, most of the new religions (Holy Spirit Association for the Unification of World Christianity, Falun Gong, Mormons, etc.) had already registered in the early 1990s. In addition, numerous new local branches of established Protestant communities circumvented this issue by claiming registration within the framework of their central organisation, and thus acquired the rights of a legal entity without delay.
The legislation was furthered tightened with the adoption in 2016 of a package of laws, better known as Yarovaya Law (the official name: The Federal Law of July 6th 2016 no. 374-FZ ‘On amendments to Federal Law ‘On countering with terrorism’ and other legal acts of the Russian Federation in the parts that constitutes the additional measures in countering terrorism and providing societal security’). The regulation of missionary activity (with ‘mission’ defined in the broadest of terms) and penalties for religious organisations preaching in public places without permission were introduced. Religious groups were henceforth obliged to provide information about themselves to local authorities, which has become a form of quasi-registration.
Anti-extremist legislation is also directly related to religious policy in Russia. The law on countering extremist activity was adopted in 2002. It contains the broadest possible definition of extremist activity, allowing law enforcement agencies to apply this law to almost any religious movement. Most of all, this law has affected Muslim communities and movements (the Hizb-ut-Tahrir movement, the followers of Said Nursi, etc. are prohibited on the territory of Russia). In 2017, all organisations of Jehovah's Witnesses were banned under this law, and many of their books and magazines, along with many Islamic ones, were included in the Federal List of Extremist Materials which is available on the website of the Ministry of Justice.[9] The reason for the prohibition of Jehovah's Witnesses is that they proclaim their religion to be true and criticise representatives of other faiths. The decision to ban them and confiscate their property was an act of intimidation against all other non-Orthodox churches.
The social partnership between ‘traditional religions’ and the state was supported in 2009 by President Dmitry Medvedev, who oversaw the introduction of military chaplains in the army, courses on the basics of different religions in schools, and the approval of the discipline of theology in higher education. 2010 saw the adoption of the law on the transfer of religious property to religious organisations, according to which churches can demand the transfer of ownership or use of buildings that were previously (mainly before the 1917 revolution) used for religious purpose; not only for worship, but also as outbuildings in monasteries. The ROC was the main beneficiary of these initiatives. The most successful projects implemented were the introduction of modules about Russia’s ‘traditional religions’ in state schools, the introduction of theology as an academic programme in universities, as well as the large-scale restitution of property to the ROC.[10]
Religion and forced displacement
There were waves of the Christian migration from outside Russia, such as, firstly, the Lutherans that became the part of Russian society in the 16th century and, secondly, the evangelical groups from Germany that arrived in Russia from the end of the 18th century. The phenomenon of emigration touched the lives of many in Russia from the beginning of the twentieth century. Members of Russian evangelical sects and Old Believers emigrated to Canada, Latin America, and the USA until the late 1980s. The third type of the migration were Stalin’s deportations to Central Asia. The main focus of this study is the impact of these migratory waves on Russian Orthodoxy, which experienced several types of change.
Table 2. Migration waves in Russia in 1991-2016[12]
The first change concerns the fragmentation of Orthodoxy into official Orthodoxy and Orthodoxy of the Old Rite (Old Believers that separated from official Orthodoxy in the 17th century), which periodically caused waves of migrations from the end of the 17th century to the beginning of the 20th century because of the persecution of the ‘old faith’. Old Believers fled to Moldova, Romania, Poland, and, within Russia, to Siberia and the Far East. Many Old Believers came to China and Latin America, whence they fled from communist China.[13] On January 9th 2018, the Fond podderzhki i sodeistviya staroobryadchestvu ‘Pravda Russkaya’ (Foundation of support and promotion of the Old Rite ‘Russian Truth’) was established.[14] The establishment of this foundation was also undertaken with the support of the authorities. Through this foundation, the authorities intend to actively help Old Believers in Russia. There is also a programme for the resettlement of Old Believers from Latin America and, if desired, from Australia and Canada, on preferential terms in Siberia and the Far East. About 130 families have already moved to the Far East, while several families from Latin America have been granted Russian citizenship by President Vladimir Putin. The appeal to Old Believers has become a symbol of ‘return to the roots’, but an alternative to the ROC.
Secondly, the migration waves deprived official Orthodoxy of human and intellectual strength. During the Soviet persecutions after 1917, the best priests, theologians, and the most active believers were killed or left the country. They settled in France, to a lesser extent in other European countries and in the United States. In 1943, a war-time initiative under Stalin to raise patriotic spirits lead to the revival of the former state church of the Russian Empire but as the Moscow Patriarchate, whose activity was necessarily overseen by Stalin and controlled by the Soviet state. Furthermore, during the Soviet period, the Russian Church did not have the right to conduct social projects or to help people publicly in other ways, and Sunday schools were also prohibited.
The Russian Revolution of 1917 brought about a division in Russian Orthodoxy as members of the ‘White’ movement, including intellectuals, emigrated from ‘red’ Bolshevik Russia. The Russian diaspora established the Russian Orthodox Church Abroad that remained an irreconcilable critic of Soviet Russia.[15] The Russian Orthodox Church Abroad unified with the Moscow Patriarchate (MP) in 2007, and most communities of the Russian Archdiocese of the parishes of Russian tradition (about 80 parishes in France, Britain, Germany and Italy) entered the structure of the MP in 2019. This was a key event in the restoration of the Russian World, which, in the view of the ROC, refers to the spiritual identity community including Russia itself and the Russian diaspora abroad. The spiritual and cultural (and canonical after the above-mentioned reunifications) ties with Orthodox of Russian tradition objectively help the Moscow Patriarchate to overcome the Soviet legacy and build church democracy from the inside.
Thirdly, migration, deportations and Soviet atheist policies dramatically changed the ethnic character of Christianity, and showed both the ROC and Russian society as a whole that Russians could be Christians outside the framework of the Moscow Patriarchate. Before the 1917 revolution, non-Orthodox Christian churches were virtually inaccessible to the Russian population. At the moment of the collapse of the USSR, Lutherans and Catholics in Russia existed as separate disparate communities in Siberia. The deportations of the Stalin period became a consistent element of national policy, as did the ‘preventive deportations’ during WWII period. About 2.75 million people (Germans, Finns, Greeks, Romanians, Crimean Tatars, Kalmyks and others suspected of collaboration or collaboration with the Nazi army) were deported during and after WWII.[16] Although the Lutheran and Catholic communities were formally revived in the early 1990s on the basis of Polish or German cultural societies, or by gathering people with Polish, Lithuanian, etc. roots, these churches quickly became predominantly Russian in terms of the ethnicity of their parishioners. German Lutheranism was also negatively affected by the mass migration of Russian Germans to Germany in the 1990s (about 500,000 Russian Germans and 25,000 Pentecostalists emigrated),[17] so that by the early 2000s the church in Russia was in deep crisis. The beginning of 1990s and early 2000s became the heyday of the evangelical movement throughout Russia, despite the continued emigration of pastors and their families. Many Christian denominations or movements that were only for foreign citizens before 1917, such as the Salvation Army, the Reformed Church and the Methodist Church, disappeared in Soviet times and were revived as Russian churches in the 1990s. The religious boom of 1990s also saw the immigration to Russia of thousands of Ukrainian evangelical missionaries who became Russian citizens, (unlike the evangelists from the USA who mainly left Russia) and came to represent the majority of the pastors of the big Protestant churches in Russia.
Table 3. Selected ethnicities and Christian churches in Russia[18]
Social work among various categories of migrants has become a clear manifestation of the internal development of the Russian Orthodox Church and the need to be more active in a competitive environment among churches that offer their own interpretations of ‘Russian patriotism’, detracting from the monopoly aspired to the Moscow Patriarchate. The evolution of the worldview of the Russian Orthodox Church has led to a convergence in the views of the Moscow Patriarchate and the Catholic Church on the problems of migration and adaptation, which are generally common to all categories of immigrants (both churches cooperated in helping Christians in the Middle East and helping immigrants integrate in Russia and the EU). In 2016, a joint Orthodox-Catholic humanitarian mission with the support of the Catholic Foundation ‘Kirche in Not’ visited Syria and Lebanon, and in 2017 the head of the Department of External Relations of the ROC, Metropolitan Hilarion of Volokolamsk, accompanied the humanitarian mission in Lebanon within the framework of dialogue with the Catholic Church.[19] Pentecostals and Baptists in Russia combine social work with evangelism and conversion, which remain as objectives when attracting the needy to church activities.
The difference between the situation in Russia and in the countries of the European Union (particularly Western Europe) is that in Russia, national communities are a part of larger Russian-speaking churches that include refugees from Ukraine or people from Caucuses and Central Asia, while in Europe over the past ten to 15 years independent national churches of immigrants from Africa and the Middle East, Turkey and Latin America have appeared, where native Europeans represent a smaller part of the converts. Many social projects, such as volunteer groups at parish level appeared when the ROC helped the refugees from Ukraine: in 2014-2015 donations amounting to 128 million Russian roubles were collected, and 22,000 refugees received direct help, while in 2015-2016 a joint project of ROC and the Billy Graham Association was undertaken to support refugees in southern regions of Russia.[20] The Orthodox church was the most active institution in the social work among displaced people, but evangelicals (Pentecostals and Baptists) also established special centers[21].
Policy perspectives
Religious organisations provide a variety of tools to effectively solve social problems, including problems associated with migration. Some churches are able to implement large-scale projects, others are focused on targeted volunteer work. The liberal, secular part of society reacted with disbelief to the work of European churches during the migration crisis, doubting that they could radically change the situation and bring benefit to society. Critics of the ROC also exists in Russia, which is partly a consequence of the Soviet atheist rule, a kind of analogue to European secularisation, in terms of the displacement of religion from public space, politics and the everyday life of people. At the same time, the academic community, politicians, officials and journalists need to take into account the reality of the new role of religious institutions in society and their social activity. Among the recommendations related to the social work of churches are:
First, religious organisations need an individual approach to assessing their capabilities. In this case, grants or state support for the efforts of churches to work with refugees and all those in need will be much more successful in achieving their goals and helping the victims.
Second, public authorities, human rights organisations and non-profit organisations working with migrants should establish cooperation with religious institutions. Moreover, the priority should be partnership not so much at the official level, but within specific parishes and communities, and in relation to specific initiatives.
Third, the support and strengthening of religious pluralism in society constitutes a de facto recognition of the changed situation in the post-Soviet space. However, overcoming religious xenophobia and stereotypes associated with ethnic religiosity (if you are Russian, then you are inevitably Orthodox, or if Tatar, then only Muslim) remains a problem. For instance, campaigns railing against sects are organised in the mass media, while society knows little about other faiths besides Orthodoxy, and information about Islam or Buddhism is widely distributed only in the corresponding national republics of Russia (in Bashkortostan about Islam, and in Buryatia about Buddhism and shamanism, etc.).
Fourth, a significant negative factor in Russia and in the Central Asian republics is the strict control of religious activities, in particular, mission, preaching and the distribution of religious literature. Due to strict legislation and constant checks by security forces, most communities refuse to register, and exist in a semi-underground situation. Such rules do not contribute to the active inclusion of religious institutions in civil society, let alone in social projects. In this case, the state refuses to use even the potential of quite loyal registered associations, although it is unclear what harm they could bring. The regulation of missionary activity and fines cause a latent fear of any preaching and the word of God. The Soviet legacy is reflected in officials’ fear of any religion, as well as the emigration of the most active believers in the 1980s and 90s to Russia from Central Asia, and from Russia on to the West. The liberalisation of legislation in the sphere of freedom of conscience and social partnership between the state and religious associations has become an urgent task that should be solved.
Roman Lunkin is the Director of the Center for Religious Studies at the Institute of Europe of the Russian Academy of Sciences. He is editor-in-chief of the magazine ‘Contemporary Europe’ and a member of the Russian team of the Keston Institute, Oxford in the project ‘An Encyclopedia of religious life in Russia today’. His latest publications include ‘The Status of and Challenges to Religious Freedom in Russia’ in Allen Hertzke (ed.) The Future of Religious Freedom. Global Challenges, Oxford University Press, 2012, pp. 157-180; ‘Reaction of Russian Churches on Ukrainian Crisis: A Prophecy of Democracy’ Rob van der Laarse, Mykhailo N. Cherenkov, Vitaliy V. Proshak, Tetiana Mykhalchuk (eds.) Religion, state, society, and identity in transition : Ukraine. Oisterwijk : Wolf Legal Publishers, 2015, pp. 435-476; ‘Changes to Religious Life in Crimea since 2014’ in Elizabeth A. Clark and Dmytro Vovk (eds.), Religion During the Russian Ukrainian Conflict, London: Routledge, 2019, pp. 144-156.
Cover photo: ‘New Jerusalem Monastery, Moscow, July 2019’. Copyright: Roman Lunkin
[1] ‘Vladimir Putin zayavlyaet, chto v Rossii tradicionnye religii mogut rasschityvat' na podderzhku gosudarstva’ (Putin claims that in Russia traditional religions could rely on the support of the state), 17 December 2001, RIA Novosti, available at https://ria.ru/20011217/36496.html. All websites were accessed on 23 December 2019.
[2] Staroobryadchestvo v Rossijskoj Federacii konca XIX — nachala XXI v. (The Old Believers Movement in Russian Federation in XIX-XXI cent.). 04.01.2018URL: http://rpsc.ru/publications/history/chislennost_staroobriadcev_xxi/; https://www.wilsoncenter.org/blog-post/regulating-faiths-make-your-preaching-legal
Official site of the Russian Orthodox Old Rite Church - http://rpsc.ru . The figures vary depending on the methodology of the poll. Very few people attend church every Sunday, for instance; Estimate based on comparison of censuses and sociological surveys: Sergei Filatov and Roman Lunkin, ‘Statistics on Religion in Russia: The Reality Behind the Figures’, Religion. State & Society, 2006, pp. 33-49; Lunkin Roman, Filatov Sergei. Statistika religioznoj i konfessional'noj prinadlezhnosti rossiyan: kakim arshinom merit'. (The Statistics of the religious and confessional belonging: how to count). Religiya i rossijskoe mnogoobrazie (Religion and Russian diversity). Kestonskij institut, Moscow-Petersburg, Publisher: “Letnij sad”, 2011. S.5-30.
[3] Roman Lunkin, ‘Regulating Faiths: Make Your Preaching Legal, The Russia File. A blog of the Kennan Institute’, August 7th 2017. URL: https://www.wilsoncenter.org/blog-post/regulating-faiths-make-your-preaching-legal
[4] The Information portal on the activity of non-commercial organisations of the Ministry of Justice of the Russian Federation, the list of registered organisations on December 23rd 2019, http://unro.minjust.ru
[5] See the results of the field research in the volumes of the ‘Religious Life in Russia Today’ published by the Keston Institute: https://www.keston.org.uk/encyclopaedia; Religiozno-obshchestvennaya zhizn' rossijskih regionov (Religious and social life in Russian regions). Pod red. S.B. Filatova. Kestonskij institut, Moscow-Petersburg, Publisher: “Letnij sad” T.I, 2014. T.II,2016. T.III, 2018.
[6] Lunkin Roman, Filatov Sergei. Statistika religioznoj i konfessional'noj prinadlezhnosti rossiyan: kakim arshinom merit'. (The Statistics of the religious and confessional belonging: how to count). Religiya i rossijskoe mnogoobrazie (Religion and Russian diversity). Kestonskij institut, Moscow-Petersburg, Publisher: “Letnij sad”, 2011. S.5-30.
[7] ‘Patriarh prizval ne politizirovat' ponyatie “russkij mir”’ (Patriarch call not to politicize the notion “Russian world”), 20 July 2015, RIA Novosti, https://ria.ru/20150720/1137980877.html
[8] Zakon SSSR ot 01 October 1990 N 1689-1 ‘O Svobode Sovesti i religioznyh organizaciyah’(The Law of the USSR from October 1st 1990 №1689-1 “On Freedom of the consciousness and on religious organizations”). Available at http://www.zaki.ru/pagesnew.php?id=1688
[9] The official list on website of Ministry of Justice, available at https://minjust.ru/ru/extremist-materials
[10] Roman Lunkin, ‘The Status of and Challenges to Religious Freedom in Russia’ in Allen D. Hertzke (ed.), The Future of Religious Freedom. Global Challenges, Oxford University Press, 2012, pp. 157-180.
[11] Source: Pew Research Center. Available at: https://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2016/12/15/international-migration-key-findings-from-the-u-s-europe-and-the-world/
[12] Data collected from the website of the Federal State Statistics Service at (https://www.gks.ru/bgd/regl/b15_107/Main.htm; https://www.gks.ru/bgd/regl/b16_107/Main.htm; https://gks.ru/bgd/regl/b17_107/Main.htm; https://gks.ru/bgd/regl/b18_107/Main.htm; and https://gks.ru/bgd/regl/b19_107/Main.htm; Many Ukrainians have not sought asylum or received refugee status and have continued to cross the border with Russia freely without registration. These figures related to those who registered as receiving temporary shelter and in total are closer to 1.5 million; Russia, Belarus undertake exhaustive measures to host Ukrainian refugees — CSTO official. TASS. 5 FEB 2016. Available at: https://tass.com/world/854794; UN Refugee Agency: Ukraine, November 1st-30th 2017, ‘Operational Update’: https://reliefweb.int/sites/reliefweb.int/files/resources/2017%2011%20UNHCR%20UKRAINE%20Operational%20Update%20FINAL%20EN.pdf; The report states that 524,000 people ‘sought asylum or other legal status in the Russian Federation’. ‘The humanitarian situation of Ukrainian refugees and displaced persons’, Assembly debate on January 27th 2015, https://assembly.coe.int/nw/xml/XRef/Xref-XML2HTML-en.asp?fileid=21480&lang=en; Chudinovskikh O., Denisenko M. (2017) Russia: A Migration System with Soviet Roots. Migration Policy Institute. Available at: https://www.migrationpolicy.org/article/russia-migration-system-soviet-roots
[13] Kononova Marina. ‘Russkaya staroobryadcheskaya diaspora v stranah dal'nego zarubezh'ya: genezis, formirovanie i sovremennoe polozhenie’ (Russian Old Rite Diaspora in the countries abroad: genesis, formation and the present state), November 7th 2014, available at https://samstar-biblio.ucoz.ru/publ/32-1-0-812
[14] pravda-russkaya.ru
[15] The Russian Orthodox Church Abroad appeared in the 1920s, and by 2007 had about 400 parishes in the USA, Australia, Britain and Germany.
[16] Polyan Pavel. ‘Geografiya nasil'stvennyh migracij v SSSR. Naselenie i obshchestvo’ (The geography of the forced migration in USSR. The population and the society). No. 37, 1999, available at http://www.demoscope.ru/acrobat/ps37.pdf
[17] Smirnova Tatiana. ‘Migracii i dinamika chislennosti nemeckogo naseleniya Zapadnoj Sibiri v konce XIX - XXI vv.’ (Migration and dynamics of the amount of the German population in Western Siberia in XIX - XXI c.). Izvestiya Altajskogo gosudarstvennogo universiteta (The news of the Altai State University). 2007, 56 (4-3), pp. 174-181; V.P. Klyueva, ‘Emigraciya po religioznym motivam: sovetskie pyatidesyatniki v poiskah «luchshej doli»’ (The Emigration for religious reasons: Soviet Pentecostalists in the search of the better fate) Vestnik Tomskogo gosudarstvennogo universiteta. Istoriya (The news of the Tomsk State University. History). 2018, 6 (2), pp. 438-453.
[18] Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic as a part of USSR; Evangelicals indicates the Protestant churches that formed as a legacy of the Reformation between the 17th and 19th centuries (Methodism, Baptism, the Salvation Army, Holiness churches) and evangelical movements of the twentieth century (Pentecostalism, Charismatics); The choice of nationalities in Table 1 is based mainly on the focus of that article, and is not an exhaustive list of all nationalities living in Russia. Consequently, it excludes native peoples of Russia that belong to the Orthodox tradition but have not taken part in migration processes. Also, certainly, the decreasing number of Ukrainians and Belarussians in Russia is a separate issue that awaits scholarly attention. The non-Russian native peoples of Russia following Orthodoxy include Ossetians (originating from the territory of the Russian federal subject of the Republic of North Ossetia-Alania and South Ossetia; an unrecognised republic that separated from Georgia in 1991), Udmurts, some Chuvashs living in the Volga region, Finno-Ugric peoples of Russia; Erzya, Moksha, Mari, as well as Komi and Karelians in North-West Russia, etc. Data collected from the 1989 census: http://www.demoscope.ru/weekly/ssp/rus_nac_89.php Official site of the 2002 census: www.perepis2002.ru; Official site of the 2010 census: https://www.gks.ru/free_doc/new_site/perepis2010/croc/perepis_itogi1612.htm
[19] ‘Vystuplenie mitropolita Volokolamskogo Ilariona v Lissabone na temu «Russkaya Pravoslavnaya Cerkov' i pomoshch' hristianam Blizhnego Vostoka’ (The speech of Metropolitan Hilarion in Lisbon on the ROC and support to Christians in the Middle East). September 20th 2018. Patriarchia.Ru, available at http://www.patriarchia.ru/db/text/5271038.html
[20] ‘128 millionov rublej sobrala Russkaya Pravoslavnaya Cerkov' dlya mirnyh zhitelej Ukrainy.’ (128 million roubles collected by the Russian Orthodox Church for the peaceful citizens of Ukraine). May 29th 2015, available at http://www.patriarchia.ru/db/text/4101642.html
[21] ‘Pomoshch' bezhencam iz Ukrainy v RF: shtaby, goryachie telefony’ (Support for the refugees from Ukraine in Russia: centres and hot telephone lines), Miloserdie.ru. Orthodox portal on charity. August 8th 2014, available at https://www.miloserdie.ru/article/pomoshh-bezhencam-iz-ukrainy-v-rf-shtaby-goryachie-telefony-internet-resursy/; ‘V Rostove-na-Donu vozobnovil rabotu shtab pomoshchi bezhencam iz Ukrainy organizovannyj YUzhnym eparhial'nym upravleniem ROSKHVE (cerkvi «Iskhod»)’ (In Rostov-on-Don the work of the centre for the support for the refugees from Ukraine organised by the southern diocese of the Russian Pentecostal Union and the “Exhodus” Church restarted). Official website of the Pentecostal Union - Cef.Ru, February 18th 2015, available at https://www.cef.ru/infoblock/news/read/article/1355228
[post_title] => Religion and Forced Displacement in Russia
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The civil war (1992 – 1995) which followed the dissolution of communist Yugoslavia had significant political, economic, and social consequences for the region. One of the most important social consequences was the forced displacement of people, which resulted in nearly three million[1] people from the former Yugoslavia being forced to leave their homes. The Federal Republic of Yugoslavia, and particularly Serbia, has been widely affected by this process. According to the Yugoslav 1996 census data on refugees, over 650.000 people (mostly from Bosnia and Herzegovina and Croatia) have been forcedly displaced to Serbia.[2] Due to the fact that the capacity of the state to help the population in need was very limited, a wide range of civil society actors helped the refugees. Religious communities and, particularly, religiously based humanitarian organisations dealt with this issue in a significant manner. For example, the Serbian Orthodox Church (SOC), as the dominant religious actor in the country, responded to this crisis mostly through its local network of parishes, and its humanitarian organisation Čovekoljublje (Philanthropy). Other religious communities were also very active in helping the population in need. For example, Caritas Serbia, ADRA, or the Bread of Life. However, their work has been widely affected by the socio-economic situation in Serbia, hyperinflation, and the problem of securing funds for their activities.
Religion, ethnicity and population
According to the latest census data (2011), the total population of the Republic of Serbia is 7,186,862, without Kosovo and Metohija.[3] When it comes to the religious and ethnic composition, Serbia is a predominately homogenous country, even though the data shows a wide range of religions represented, as well as various ethnicities. Regarding the religious composition, 6,079,396 people (84.6 per cent) are affiliated with Orthodox Christianity. Serbia’s religious composition also includes Roman Catholicism (five per cent), Islam (three per cent), followed by Protestantism (one per cent), Eastern religions (0.1 per cent), and 578 Jews. The 2011 census also shows a number of atheists (1.1 per cent), and a relatively significant number of people who did not want to indicate their religious affiliation (three per cent). The dominant religious community is the Serbian Orthodox Church (SOC). Meanwhile, the ethnic composition of the country is as follows: Serbs represent the vast majority of population (83.32 per cent), followed by Hungarians (3.53 per cent), Romas (2.05 per cent), Bosnians (2.02 per cent), Croatians (0.81 per cent) and Slovaks (0.73 per cent).[4] The next census will be conducted in April 2021.
Studies show that there is a strong correlation between religion and ethnicity in the Western Balkan region.[5] Thus, ethnicity in Serbia is closely related to religious affiliation. Even though it does not imply that a person cannot be a Serb if he/she is not affiliated with Orthodox Christianity, it is highly likely that affiliation with Orthodox Christianity corresponds with a Serbian ethnic background. However, recent surveys also show a low level of religiosity and religious activities within the Serbian population.[6] That is why the religious pattern in Serbia can be explained through the formula of ‘belonging without believing,’ as the majority of the population claims to identify with the SOC, yet shows a low level of religious activity. However, in their recent article Veković and Đogatović lament the paucity of scholarship about religion’s political significance in the Balkan states since the breakup of Yugoslavia.[7]
Religion-state relations
The dissolution of the communist regimes across Eastern Europe has been followed by a process of religious resurgence. This was also the case in Serbia, where the SOC offered itself as the ‘traditional bastion of national security and the centre of national life, as evidenced by its centuries-long role as the single institution that ‘never in history betrayed the Serbian people’.[8] The religious life of Serbia has been regulated by the 1990 Constitution of the Republic of Serbia, and particularly in Article 41, paragraph one, proclaims the freedom of religion, which includes the freedom of beliefs, confession of faith, and the freedom to perform religious rites.[9] Paragraph two of the same article adopted the secular concept of the state, and acknowledges that religious communities are free to organise their affairs and perform religious rites and activities. Moreover, paragraph three states that religious communities are free to organise religious schools and humanitarian organisations, while paragraph four asserts that the state can fund religious communities.[10] Religion-state relations during the regime of Slobodan Milošević (1991 – 2000) were dominated by the role of the SOC and its two main requests to the state: the introduction of religious education in schools, and the returning of property confiscated by the former communist regime. Both demands were denied by the state on multiple occasions. Moreover, church-state relations became even more complicated after the forced displacement of populations from Croatia and Bosnia Herzegovina to Serbia in 1992 – 1995. After the democratic revolution and the fall of Milošević’s regime in 2000, church-state relations in Serbia entered a new phase. The Serbian post-2000 regime was more positively inclined towards the SOC, and thus they supported the SOC’s main requests: religious education was introduced in schools in 2001 through the law on the ‘Regulation on Organization and Implementation of Religious Education and Teaching Alternative Courses in elementary and secondary Schools’.[11] Furthermore, in 2006 the state adopted the ‘Law on the Restoration (Restitution) of Property to the Churches and Religious Communities’.[12] Consequently, the social engagement activities of religious communities increased, particularly in the case of the SOC. However, the most important change in religion-state relations in post-communist Serbia has been the introduction of the ‘Law on Churches and Religious communities’ in 2006. [13] According to Veković, this law was necessary for several reasons, including but not limited to the ‘complexity of religious mosaic in Serbia, issue of returning of the expropriated property by the former communist regime, State’s support for clergy’s pension insurance, and the introduction of the religious education in Serbian school system.’[14] Yet, as Vukomanović pointed out, the 2006 Law led to the ‘fetatisation of the Church’.[15] One of the key characteristics of this law is the introduction of a distinction between traditional churches and religious communities and confessional communities, and other religious organisations (Article 4). Article 10, paragraph one, of this law lists the traditional religious communities in this order: the Serbian Orthodox Church, the Roman Catholic Church, the Slovak Evangelical Church, the Reformed Christian Church, the Evangelical Christian Church, the Islamic community and the Jewish community.[16] The argument of the law is that traditional religious communities deserves a special legal status due to their historical importance and previous legal status (Article 10, paragraph two), as these communities were legally recognised by the Kingdom of Yugoslavia prior to 1945. Moreover, Article 17 introduced the ‘Register of churches and religious communities’. This register was organised by the Ministry of Faith of the Republic of Serbia until 2012, when this ministry ceased to exist. Since then, the ‘Register of churches and religious communities’ has been conducted by the Directorate for Cooperation with Churches and Religious Communities within the Ministry of Justice.[17] The introduction of the ‘Law on Churches and Religious Communities’ was strongly criticised by several Serbian civil society organisations. The Constitutional Court of the Republic of Serbia received four motions to determine the constitutionality of the 2006 law, as well as two initiatives for determining the constitutionality of several articles of the law. In 2013, the constitutional court decided to reject all proposals and initiatives.[18]
Religion and forced displacement
The dissolution of communist Yugoslavia, followed by the civil war (1992 – 1995), which also had significant religious background, triggered mass population movements in the region. This conflict resulted in nearly three million people from the former Yugoslavia being forced to leave their homes.[19] Serbia, at that time a part of the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia (FRY), was greatly affected by the population movement, mainly from Croatia, and Bosnia and Herzegovina. According to relevant sources, by December 1995 over 650,000 people had been displaced from Croatia, and Bosnia and Herzegovina to Serbia and the FRY as a whole. It was ‘the largest refugee crisis in Europe since the Second World War,’ and as Helton argued, ‘the conflict in the former Yugoslavia became synonymous with a generation of refugees and displaced persons’.[20] Moreover, the Kosovo and Metohija conflict from 1999 resulted in about 200,000 displaced people. The majority of the displaced population moved to the capital city of Belgrade.[21]
The first census of refugees and forcibly displaced people was done in June 1996. The census registered a total of 566,275 refugees and forcibly displaced persons.[22] Most of them, 550,920, as stated in Table 1, had come from Bosnia and Herzegovina, and Croatia, while others hailed from other former Yugoslav republics, or did not want to answer the question concerning their place of origin. The majority of the population movement occurred in two major waves. The first wave was in 1992, while the second wave happened in late 1995. According to the 1996 census, 91.1 per cent of the people who moved to Serbia and the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia in the period 1991 – 1995 were Serbs. Although there are no data on the religious affiliation of displaced population arriving in Serbia, it is highly likely that the majority of them were Orthodox Christians.
Table 1. Forced displacement of people from Bosnia and Herzegovina and Croatia to the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia and Serbia, 1991 – 1996.[23]
The number of forcibly displaced people significantly declined in the post-1997 period, mostly due to the fact that majority of them were naturalised, and received Serbian citizenship. Out of the total of 566,275 people registered in the 1996 census, more than 60 per cent indicated that they wanted to receive the citizenship of the Republic of Serbia and stay there. On the other hand, only nine per cent declared that they wanted to return to their homes, while over 50,000 people stated that they wanted to move to a third country.[24]
In the aftermath of the civil war, Serbia was a war-torn country characterised by a high level of hyperinflation, and social and political instability. The population increase of roughly ten per cent as a consequence of the forced displacement represented a big challenge for the state. The needs of this section of the population included, but were not limited to, solving the main existential questions and thus the development of social and economic infrastructure. Even though the state tried to respond to these needs, its capacities were very limited. That is why one the key actors in providing support to the population in need were actually religious communities, and particularly religiously based humanitarian organisations. According to Stojić-Mitrović and Đurić-Milovanović, ‘During the 1990s, the activities of faith-based organisations were concentrated on the direct provision of humanitarian aid to refugees and internally-displaced people as victims of wars in Yugoslavia’.[25] As the dominant religious actor in Serbia, and as the institution representing the dominant religious affiliation of the displaced population, the Serbian Orthodox Church (SOC) was the most active religious institution in this regard. The first response of the SOC to the crisis was the foundng of the charity and humanitarian organisation Philanthropy.[26] Providing humanitarian help was the key activity of Philanthropy during the 1990s. On the other hand, it should be noted that the work of this organisation was highly dependent on donations and state support, which were not sufficient to meet all the needs of the displaced population. In the post-2000 period, this organisation focused on developing and implementing various development programs for marginalised and endangered groups within Serbia. The SOC also used its far-reaching network of parishes in order to help the population in need. However, it should be also said that the even though the SOC was the dominant religious actor, the years under the Yugoslav communist regime (1945 – 1990) left significant consequences on its material base for social engagement and activities. Moreover, it should be also stated that the majority of other Orthodox Christian Churches were also undergoing a post-communist transition process, and were therefore unable to offer any significant material support. At the same time, the state and the regime of Slobodan Milošević were not particularly interested in religion, and consequently in the needs of the SOC. These are the main reasons why the SOC did not engage more in helping the displaced population, even though it did all that was possible at that time and given the political context. At this time, other religious communities were also very active in helping the displaced population. Among others, the Belgrade Archdiocese of the Roman Catholic Church and the Adventist Development Relief Agency, the global humanitarian organisation of the Seventh Day Adventist Church, were very active in helping the displaced population. When it comes to the Belgrade Archdiocese, the main activities were organissed through the Serbian branch of the Caritas organisation (founded in 1995). By using the support of its strong international network, this organisation was very engaged in meeting the needs of the displaced population in Serbia. According to their data, they provided food, fuel and shelter to thousands of people in the 1990s. By the end of 2000, their estimates suggest that they reached over two million people in different ways.[27] The Serbian branch of the ADRA (the global humanitarian organisation of the Seventh-day Adventist Church) was founded in 1990, and was very active in helping the displaced population. Even though this organisation came to prominence during the siege of Sarajevo, when they managed to bring the humanitarian help into the city, they were also very active in the FRY, and particularly Serbia.[28] Lastly, a humanitarian organisation called ‘Bread for Life’, jointly founded in 1992 in Belgrade by the Protestant evangelical church and the Baptist church, responded very actively to the needs of the population. Their activities were focused on providing such things as material aid, self-support programmes, psychosocial support, medical assistance and Christmas presents for children.[29]
Policy perspectives
The best responses on the part of religious communities to the forced displacement of people came as a result of cooperation between state actors on one side, and the religious communities on the other. However, even though the state of Serbia adopted a law on refugees in 1992 and formed a body entitled the ‘Commissariat for Refugees’, the level of cooperation was rather very low.[30] The state did had neither the capacity to support the activities of religious communities, nor the ability to leverage their huge potential, as their cooperation was under the influence of the wider socio-political context. The potential of religious communities to help the population in need was based in their widespread network of parishes (particularly of the SOC), as well as strong ties with international humanitarian networks (particularly in the case of the Roman Catholic and Protestant churches). That is why the religious communities have been left alone to deal with this issue. If the Commissariat for Refugees had responded by forming a special institution for cooperation with religious communities with regard to dealing with people in need, had helped them reach international support and the funds, and had then used their local network of parishes to disseminate aid, it is likely that the outcome of their work would have been much better. On the other hand, the state could also have used the local networks of parishes to disseminate their own funds to help displaced people without any additional costs. The problem of the displaced population should be also tackled through a bottom-up approach, particularly now, more than 20 years after the civil war. The needs of the displaced population today should be carefully surveyed, analysed and identified, and joint programs between the state and all interested religious communities should be developed in accordance with the findings. Lastly, the population in need would benefit greatly from joint programmes organised by different religious communities. Yet, this sort of cooperation and collaboration between religious communities should be also encouraged and supported by the state, since it did not occur spontaneously in the 1990s.
However, even without any significant state support, the level of engagement of Serbia’s religious communities in dealing with populations in need was quite considerable. The Roman Catholic Church, as well as numerous Protestant communities, used their international humanitarian networks to provide help for the displaced population, while the SOC used its humanitarian organisation Philanthropy, as well as its local network of parishes to meet the population’s needs.
Aleksandra Djuric-Milovanovic is an anthropologist working as an Associate Research Professor at the Institute for Balkan Studies of the Serbian Academy of Sciences and Arts. Her publications include, Distinctive Aspects of the Religion and Ethnicity of Romanians in Vojvodina (Institute for Balkan Studies SASA, 2015), Orthodox Christian Renewal Movements in Eastern Europe (co-editor with Radmila Radic; Palgrave Macmillan, 2017) and The Romanian Orthodox Church in the Yugoslav Banat between Two World Wars (co-author with Mircea Maran; Cluj University Press 2019).
Marko Veković is an Assistant Professor of Religion and Politics at University of Belgrade – Faculty of Political Sciences. His recent publications include: ‘Errando Discimus: Has Post-Yugoslav Political and Social Science Neglected Religion?’, Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion (2019), ‘Render unto Caesar: Explaining Political Dimension of the Autocephaly Demands in Ukraine and Montenegro’, Journal of Church and State (2019) and, ‘In Pursuit of ‘Twin Toleration’: Democracy and Church–State Relations in Serbia and Montenegro’, Occasional Papers on Religion in Eastern Europe (2019). His book Democratization in Christian Orthodox Europe: Comparing Greece, Serbia and Russia is forthcoming with the Routledge series in Religion and Politics (June 2020).
Cover photo: ‘Refugees registering for humanitarian aid provided by the Bread of Life outside the Baptist Church, Belgrade, April 1997'. Copyright: Dane Vidović. Printed with author’s permission.
[1] Silva Meznarić, Jelena Zlarković, ‘Winter, Forced Migration and Refugee flows in Croatia, Slovenia and Bosnia-Herzegovina: Early Warning, Beginning and Current State of Flows’, Refuge, Canada’s Journal on Refugees, 1993, 12 (7), p. 3; Kristina Zitnanova, ‘Refugee Protection and International Migration in the Western Balkans’, March 2014, UNHCR, p. 13, available at https://www.unhcr.org/5375c9ab9.pdf. All websites were accessed on 5 December 2019.
[1] Silva Meznarić, Jelena Zlarković, ‘Winter, Forced Migration and Refugee flows in Croatia, Slovenia and Bosnia-Herzegovina: Early Warning, Beginning and Current State of Flows’, Refuge, Canada’s Journal on Refugees, 1993, 12 (7), p. 3; Kristina Zitnanova, ‘Refugee Protection and International Migration in the Western Balkans’, March 2014, UNHCR, p. 13, available at https://www.unhcr.org/5375c9ab9.pdf. All websites were accessed on 5 December 2019.
[2] According to: Popis izbeglica i drugih ratom ugroženih lica u Saveznoj Republici Jugoslaviji, (Census of Refugees and other war-affected persons in the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia), UNHCR, Komesarijat za izbeglice Republike Srbije, Komesarijat za raseljena lica Crne Gore (UNHCR, Commissariat for Refugee of Republic of Serbia, Commissariat for displaced persons of Montenegro), 1996, p. 16.
[3] In 2011 Census there were no conditions on the territory of the south Serbian province for the conduction of a census, just like in the 2002 Census. The 1991 Census was boycotted by the majority of the Albanian population.
[4] All stated according to the ‘2011 Census of Population, Households and Dwellings in the Republic of Serbia’, Statistical Office of the Republic of Serbia, Belgrade, Serbia.
[5] See for example Vjekoslav Perica, Balkan Idols: Religion and Nationalism in Yugoslav States, Oxford University Press, 2002, pp. 7-9; Religious Belief and National Belonging in Central and Eastern Europe, Pew Research Center, available at https://www.pewforum.org/2017/05/10/religious-belief-and-national-belonging-in-central-and-eastern-europe/; Miroljub Jevtić, Uloga religije u identitetu južnoslovenskih naroda (The Role of Religion in the identity of South-Slavic People), Godišnjak FPN, 2008, 2 (2), pp. 171-186.
[6] Religious Belief and National Belonging in Central and Eastern Europe.
[7] Marko Veković, Veljko Đogatović, ‘Errando Discimus: Has Post-Yugoslav Political and Social Science Neglected Religion?’, Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion, 2019, 58 (3), pp. 753-763.
[8] Radmila Radić, „The Church and the ‘Serbian Question’”, in: The Road to War in Serbia: Trauma and Catharsis, Nebojša Popov (ed.), Central European University Press, Budapest, 2000, p. 250.
[9] ‘Ustav Republike Srbije“, Službeni glasnik Republike Srbije (Constitution of Republic of Serbia), Beograd, 1990.
[10] Ibid, Article 41, Paragraphs 1-4.
[11] ‘Uredba o organizovanju i ostvarivanju verske nastave i nastave alternativnog predmeta u osnovnoj i srednjoj školi’ (Regulation on Organization and Implementation of Religious Education and Teaching Alternative Courses in elementary and secondary Schools), Službeni glasnik Republike Srbije (Constitution of Republic of Serbia), br. 46, 27 July 2001.
[12] ‘Zakon o vraćanju (restituciji) imovine crkvama i verskim zajednicama’ (Law on the Restoration (Restitution) of Property to the Churches and Religious Communities)., Službeni glasnik Republike Srbije (Constitution of Republic of Serbia), br. 46/2006.
[13] ‘Zakon o crkvama i verskim zajednicama’ (Law on Churches and religious communities), Službeni glasnik, br. 36/2006, Beograd.
[14] Marko Veković, ‘In Pursuit of ‘Twin Toleration’: Democracy and Church–State Relations in Serbia and Montenegro’, Occasional Papers on Religion in Eastern Europe, 2019, 39 (5), pp. 102-103.
[15] Milan Vukomanović, ‘The Serbian Orthodox Church in the Aftermatch of October 5, 2000’¸ Politics and Religion, 2008, 1 (2), p. 247.
[16] ‘Zakon o crkvama i verskim zajednicama’ (Law on Churches and religious communities), Službeni glasnik, br. 36/2006, Beograd.
[17] ‘Directorate for Cooperation with Churches and Religious Communities’, available at http://www.vere.gov.rs/Cir/Start1.asp?cmd=resetall
[18] ‘Odluka o odbijanju predloga za ocenu ustavnosti/zakonitosti’ (Decision to reject the motions for review of constitionality), Ustavni sud Republike Srbije, Predmet: IУз-455/2011, Službeni glasnik RS, br. 23/2013.
[19] Silva Meznarić, Jelena Zlarković Winter, Forced Migration and Refugee flows in Croatia, Slovenia and Bosnia-Herzegovina: Early Warning, Beginning and Current State of Flows, Refuge, 1993, 12 (7), p. 3; Kristina Zitnanova, “Refugee Protection and International Migration in the Western Balkans”, March 2014, UNHCR, p. 13, available at https://www.unhcr.org/5375c9ab9.pdf
[20] Silva Meznarić, Jelena Zlarković Winter, Forced Migration and Refugee flows in Croatia, Slovenia and Bosnia-Herzegovina: Early Warning, Beginning and Current State of Flows, Refuge, 1993, 12 (7), p. 3; Kristina Zitnanova, “Refugee Protection and International Migration in the Western Balkans”, March 2014, UNHCR, p. 13, available at https://www.unhcr.org/5375c9ab9.pdf
[20] “War and Humanitarian Action: Iraq and the Balkans”, in: The State of World’s Refugees: Fifty Years of Humanitarian Actions, UNHCR, January 1st 2000, p. 218, available at https://www.unhcr.org/3ebf9bb50.pdf; Artur C. Helton, ‘Forced Migration in the Former Yugoslavia’, Cambridge Review of International Affairs, 1999, 12 (2), p. 184.
[21] See Vesna Lukić, Dve decenije izbeglištva u Srbiji (Two decades of refugees in Serbia), Republički zavod za statistiku, Beograd, 2015, Izbeglički korpus u Srbiji prema podacima popisa stanovništva 2002., Ministarstvo za ljudska i manjinska prava Srbije i Crne Gore, Beograd, 2004 (Refugees in Serbia according to the 2002 Census).
[22] Popis izbeglica i drugih ratom ugroženih lica u Saveznoj Republici Jugoslaviji (Census of Refugees and other war-affected persons in the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia) UNHCR, Komesarijat za izbeglice Republike Srbije, Komesarijat za raseljena lica Crne Gore (UNHCR, Commissariat for Refugee of Republic of Serbia, Commissariat for displaced persons of Montenegro), 1996, p. 16.
[23] Popis izbeglica i drugih ratom ugroženih lica u Saveznoj Republici Jugoslaviji (Census of Refugees and other war-affected persons in the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia), UNHCR, Komesarijat za izbeglice Republike Srbije, Komesarijat za raseljena lica Crne Gore (UNHCR, Commissariat for Refugee of Republic of Serbia, Commissariat for displaced persons of Montenegro), 1996.
[24] Ibid, pp. 9-10.
[25] Marta Stojić Mitrović, Aleksandra Đurić-Milovanović, „The humanitarian engagement of faith-based organisations in Serbia, Balancing between the Vulnerable Human and the (In)Secure (Nation)State“, in: Forced Migration and Human Security in the Eastern Orthodox World, Lucian Leustean (ed.), Routledge, UK, 2019, p. 210.
[26] Čovekoljublje ‘Philanthropy’ organization at https://www.covekoljublje.org/en/
[27] ‘Caritas Serbia’” organization at https://caritas.rs
[28] ‘ADRA Serbia’ organization at https://adra.org.rs
[29] ‘Bread of Life’ organization at http://www.breadoflife.org.rs/en/about.php
[30] ‘Zakon o izbeglicama (Law on Refuges), Službeni glasnik Republike Srbije, God. XLVII, No. 18, 1992.
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[post_content] => This paper examines how Ukrainian religious associations have addressed the forced displacement caused by the Russia-Ukraine conflict that started in 2014. At the out set there will be a brief explanation of the religious and ethnic landscape of Ukraine as well as a short description of church-state relations in the country that emphasises the social engagement of religions. Next, the paper describes how religious associations contribute to counteracting the problems connected with forced displacement by raising awareness of the associated issues within state structures and among members of the public, providing for the basic needs for the most vulnerable categories of internally displaced persons (IDPs), and facilitating the social integration of IDPs into their host communities. Finally, this paper outlines several areas where religious communities and the government can further cooperate in order to resolve the problems arising as a consequence of forced displacement going forward.
Religion, ethnicity and population
According to the latest census conducted in 2001, the population of Ukraine included 77.8 per cent ethnic Ukrainians and 17.3 per cent Russians. Other ethnic groups (Belarusians, Armenians, Jews, Greeks, Tatars, Roma, etc.) did not exceed 0.6 per cent each.[1] Recent public opinion polls have recorded an increase in the number of citizens of Ukraine who identify themselves as Ukrainians. In a 2018 study by the Razumkov Center that asked the question, ‘To which national identity do you consider yourself to belong?’, 85.7 per cent of respondents said they considered themselves to be Ukrainian, in contrast to 11 per cent who indicated Russian, 2.1 per cent who gave another nationality, and 1.2 per cent who provided no answer.[2] The discrepancy between the census and sociological research data can be explained by several factors. Since 2014, sociological surveys have not been conducted in Crimea or in the parts of the Donetsk and Lugansk regions that are not controlled by the Ukrainian government, territories where a significant part of the Russian minority lived. Also, respondents may perceive their ‘nationality’ differently. Although in Ukrainian and Russian the term is usually associated with ethnicity and national origin, respondents can also identify themselves as political Ukrainians who do not want to affiliate themselves in any way with Russia during war.
The religious landscape of Ukraine is diverse. According to one recent study, 64.9 per cent of Ukrainians consider themselves to be Orthodox, 9.5 per cent Greek Catholic, 1.6 per cent Roman Catholic, and 1.8 per cent Protestant.[3] Other religions, such as Judaism and Islam make up no more than 0.1 per cent each. Another eight per cent of Ukrainians consider themselves to be ‘just Christians’, and 12.8 per cent do not affiliate themselves with any religion. Orthodox Christians are divided into several large groups. 13.2 per cent of Ukrainians affiliate themselves with the newly established Orthodox Church of Ukraine (OCU) that was created in 2018, whereas 7.7 per cent of Ukrainians are affiliated with the Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the Kyiv Patriarchate (UOC-KP), the status of which is currently undefined, 10.6 per cent of respondents are believers of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate (UOC-MP), and another 30.3 per cent consider themselves ‘just Orthodox’, thereby comprising the largest group of Orthodox Ukrainians.[4]
However, an institutional analysis of the Ukrainian religious landscape reveals a slightly different picture. According to data from the Ministry of Culture of Ukraine, 32,719 religious communities were operating in the country as of January 1st 2019.[5] The largest religious association was the UOC-MP with 12,122 communities. The OCU had 5,994 communities, which included the total number of UOC-KP and the Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church communities. In addition, according to unofficial data, about 500 UOC-MP communities have joined the OCU since its establishment in December 2018, although the legal recognition of the transition of these communities is still in progress. [6] The Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church included 3,365 communities, concentrated mostly in Western Ukraine, while 897 communities belonged to the Roman Catholic Church.
In addition, there were 8,450 Protestant communities in Ukraine. Thus, Protestants made up a quarter of the total number of religious organisations in the country, yet the number of believers affiliated with Protestant denominations, as has already been noted, did not exceed two per cent. That gap can be explained by the fact that although almost 90 per cent of Ukrainians associate themselves with a particular religion or denomination, only about two per cent of Ukrainians claim to be members of certain religious communities or associations.[7] Unlike the vast majority of Orthodox Christians, for whom religiosity is a matter of belonging and self-identification rather than everyday practices and regular involvement in a community's activities, Protestant religiosity is almost always institutionalised: they are registered as members of their community, are financially and organisationally involved in its life, and regularly attend church meetings.[8] Therefore, a small Protestant minority forms a significant, socially active part of the religious landscape of Ukraine.
The All-Ukrainian Council of Churches and Religious Organizations (AUCCRO) unites religions and represents more than 90 per cent of believers in the country.[9] The AUCCRO serves as a platform for inter-religious dialogue and religious communication with the state, as well as for the coordination of each group’s positions on various social and political issues.
Religion-state relations
Article 35 of the Constitution of Ukraine protects the full range of religious rights, and proclaims the separation of church and state. The 1991 Law on Freedom of Conscience and Religious Organizations (the Religious Law) states that all religions enjoy equal legal status (Article 5), and, in contrast to other post-Soviet Orthodox-majority states, there are no officially recognised or unofficially endorsed ‘traditional religions’ in Ukraine. The registration of religious organisations is simple and not obligatory for arranging religious activities (Article 8). Further, the Religious Law emphasises that the state shall not interfere in internal religious affairs and prohibits religions from being involved in political life (Article 5).
However, in reality the Ukrainian model of religion-state relations has evolved in a more cooperative direction. Since independence in 1991, religions have gradually strengthened their presence in the public sphere, including in politics, public education, religious freedom advocacy, and social services. The rapprochement between the government and religious bodies has accelerated since 2014, when the state faced Russian aggression in Crimea and Eastern Ukraine. The main Ukrainian religions, with the exception of the UOC-MP, have strongly supported the Ukrainian government in the conflict with Russia, and promote it both within Ukraine and abroad, particularly in European Union (EU) institutions and European countries. Considering religion a matter of national security, the Ukrainian government was deeply involved in the creation of the new Orthodox Church of Ukraine and negotiated the recognition of this church by the Ecumenical Patriarchate that granted autocephaly (ecclesiastical independence) to the new church in January 2019. The state also disfavoured the UOC-MP in Law No. 2662-VIII (2018) and Law No. 2673-VIII (2019), which aimed to force the UOC-MP to change its official name to declare its affiliation with the Russian Orthodox Church, banned UOC-MP priests from military chaplaincy, and simplified the transition process for UOC-MP communities seeking to join the OCU.[10]
In 2014 the state adopted legal regulations on military chaplaincy and prison chaplaincy.[11] Chaplains were initially employed by the army in 2017; most are affiliated with the OCU and a few with the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church. Currently Ukrainian churches are negotiating with the state concerning the possibility of establishing chaplaincy services in the police and medical institutions.
In 2015 Ukrainian religions obtained the right to create general educational institutions, including kindergartens, secondary schools, and universities.[12] According to current official data, there are sixteen religiously affiliated (Orthodox, Greek Catholic, Roman Catholic, Protestant and Jewish) private secondary schools in Ukraine. The Ukrainian Catholic University, affiliated with the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church, is one of the most prestigious institutions of higher education in the country. In public education, the state permits voluntary religious education classes. Sometimes religious leaders and priests (usually Orthodox or Greek Catholics) are invited to public schools to give lectures and blessings, and to conduct religious services. Several incidents have been reported in the media where these events became de facto compulsory for the students.
Regarding proselytism, in line with international standards, the state does not disproportionately restrict the missionary activities of Ukrainian religions, or interfere with their usual social support services to vulnerable population groups, such as soup kitchens or services for children and families in need, including projects funded or supported from abroad. Such services are managed both by religions and religious charities, sometimes in cooperation with local authorities.
Finally, mainstream Ukrainian religious associations actively participate in public debates on human rights issues. As in many other post-Soviet countries, they promote the non-recognition of same-sex marriages, the strengthening of state support for traditional families, the banning of abortions, the rejection of fluid gender identities, and the broad right to conscientious objection for public servants, medical employees, businessmen, etc., with respect to anti-discrimination measures implemented by the state.
Religion and forced displacement
In contrast to several other post-Soviet republics, Ukraine had not been involved in wars or experienced violent, large-scale civil conflicts prior to 2014. Also, the country did not attract significant numbers of labour migrants or refugees particularly because the state was and is reluctant to grant the status of refugee and most applicants were usually deported from Ukraine. Thus, forced displacement was not a major focus of public discourse or state policies in Ukraine until things changed in 2014. The Russia-Ukraine conflict, including the military conflict in eastern Ukraine and the annexation of Crimea, forced a huge wave of internally displaced people (IDPs) to flee from Donbass to other regions of Ukraine and to other countries (Russia, EU countries, the USA, etc.).[13] The main faith groups in Ukraine, as well as its many minority religions have responded to the issue of forced displacement by highlighting this problem, recording violations of religious freedom that provoke forced displacement, providing accommodation and other basic needs to the most vulnerable categories of IDPs, and supporting their social integration. Below are a few examples.
Table 1. Refugees, asylum seekers, immigrants and internally displaced persons in Ukraine.[34]
Policy perspectives
Forced displacement caused by the Russia-Ukraine military conflict remains a serious humanitarian, political, economic, and social challenge for the Ukrainian state. In 2017 the Ukrainian cabinet of ministers adopted the Strategy for Integrating Internally Displaced Persons. The strategy aims to offer and implement long-term solutions, with a view to providing IDPs with housing and employment and ensuring their social integration. However, due to a lack of institutional and economic recourses, the state is unable to provide housing for IDPs and support their integration into host communities. Thus, it is extremely important for the national government and local authorities to cooperate with civil society organisations, both religious and secular, to address these problems. Because they have significant experience and high levels of public trust, Ukrainian religions may have significant strengths to offer collaborative projects assisting IDPs with social integration, and strengthening their ability to start a new life after being forcibly displaced.
First, religious associations can be employed to fight stereotypes and prejudices against IDPs and prevent their isolation on the margins of host communities. Such stereotypes and prejudices, which can have a political nature or, particularly in the case of Crimean Tatar IDPs, an ethnic and religious character, can provoke discrimination against IDPs, such as denial of employment or refusal to accept them as tenants. Religions could effectively raise their voices against these stereotypes not only on a political level by encouraging the state to protect IDPs from discrimination, but also among believers. The 2017 AUCCRO Strategy ‘Ukraine Is Our Common Home’ could be a helpful framework for religions to discourage stereotypes.
Second, religious associations can effectively coordinate with the state on their educational and other projects with a focus on the social integration of IDPs into host communities. For example, if provided with information about these projects, local state employment divisions could disseminate it among IDPs. They are also well placed to facilitate dialogue between religious institutions and employers in order to figure out what training and educational programs would be the most relevant in particular regions.
Third, although the state is legally prohibited from funding religious projects directly, and some religious minorities might prefer to avoid accepting state funding in order to retain their right to spread their religious messages among IDPs, the state can accumulate and disseminate information on the social services provided by religious charities. Making these services easily accessible on and offline will facilitate the meeting of basic needs, and the provision of legal and physiological support, and shelter to the most vulnerable categories of IDP (children, single parents, persons with disability, homeless persons, etc.).
Fourth, the state can turn to religious communities as a source of information about the violation of religious freedoms in Crimea and the DPR/LPR, including those resulting in the forced displacement of their believers.[35] Further, prosecuting both state and non-state perpetrators of religious persecution should be an important part of transitional justice after the Ukrainian state has restored control over these territories.
Yet, there are several things that Ukrainian religious organisations should do to make their work with IDPs more effective. First, they should continue developing inter-religious dialogue in this sphere. Currently, most religious social initiatives focusing on forced displacement are operated by one religious group or a charity affiliated with one religion, even though they usually provide services to IDPs on a non-confessional basis. Expanding religious collaboration in supporting IDPs can potentially result in accumulating more resources than an individual religious groups could on their own. The same logic applies to cooperation between religions and secular human rights organisations, which sometimes must overcome a tradition of mutual suspicion.
Finally, religious organisations should expand their focus to long-term solutions. Currently, they mostly concentrate on providing services to the most vulnerable categories of IDP. Long-term education and social integration projects such as those implemented by Caritas Ukraine and Eleos Ukraine, which are few and far between, should become the norm. As commentators observe, ‘IDP programs must reinforce IDPs’ positive, proactive outlooks and identify community spaces for displaced persons and community members to interact.’[36] Of course, this outlook presupposes serious institutional efforts and systematic work with donors, but the potential effect of these projects would be life-changing.
Dmytro Vovk runs the Centre for the Rule of Law and Religion Studies at Yaroslav Mudryi National Law University in Kharkiv, Ukraine. He also works as a member of the OSCE/ODIHR Panel of Experts on Freedom of Religion or Belief. Since 2019 he has co-edited the “Talk About: Law and Religion” blog. His latest publications as an author include Law and Political Religion: Theology of Soviet Law (forthcoming), Dynamics of Church-State Relations in Ukraine and the Military Conflict with Russia: Political and Legal Aspects (2020), Ukrainian Churches and European Integration Policy: Human Rights Context (2017), and Balancing Religious Freedom in the Context of Secularity: Analysis of Court Practice in Ukraine (2015); as editor, Religion during the Russian-Ukrainian Conflict (Routledge, 2020), Law, Religion and Cinema (2018, in Ukrainian) and Tolerance in Transitional Societies: Philosophical, Legal, Political, and Sociological Dimensions (2016, in Ukrainian); and, as translator, W. Call Durham, Jr. & Brett G. Scharffs, Law and Religion: National, International and Comparative Perspectives (in Russian, forthcoming in 2020) and Paul Gowder, Rule of Law in the Real World (in Ukrainian, 2018).
Cover photo: 'A parishioner carrying presents to internally displaced children on St Nicholas Day, Luhansk Oblast, December 2015’. Copyright: V. M. Printed with author’s permission.
[1] Data of the 2001 census is available at: http://2001.ukrcensus.gov.ua/results/general/nationality/
[2] Razumkov Center (2016). Consolidatsiya Ukrayinskogo Suspilstva: Shlyahy, Vyklyky, Perspectyvy [Consolidation of Ukrainian Society: Ways, Challenges, Perspectives]. p. 50 Retrieved from http://razumkov.org.ua/upload/Identi-2016.pdf (date of access 11 February 2020).
[3] Razumkov Center (2016). Derzhava i Tserkva v Ukrayini-2019 [State and Church in Ukraine in 2019]. Retrieved from http://razumkov.org.ua/uploads/article/2019_Religiya.pdf (date of access 11 February 2020).
[4] In December 2018, the OCU was established by uniting the UOC-KP, the Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church, and several clerics of the UOC-MP. Metropolitan Epiphany, a former right-hand man of the UOC-KP head Patriarch Filaret, was elected as the Primate of the OCU. However, in July 2019, Filaret announced the withdrawal of the UOC-KP from the OCU, although the latter continues the process of legal liquidation of the UOC-KP as its predecessor. Today it is not clear how many (if any) communities want to stay with Filaret, but as the above-mentioned opinion poll shows, at least some Ukrainians continue to identify themselves with the UOC-KP, and not with the OCU; Razumkov Center (2019). Religiya i Tserkva v Ukrayini 2019: Sotsiologichne doslidzhennya [Religion and Church in Ukraine 2019: Sociological Survey]. Retrieved from http://razumkov.org.ua/uploads/article/2019_Religiya.pdf
[5] Ministry of Culture of Ukraine (2019). Dani departamentu u spavah relihiy i natsional’nostey pro relihiynu merezhu [Data of the Department of religious and nationalities affairs about religious landscape]. Retrieved from https://risu.org.ua/ua/index/resourses/statistics/ukr_2019/75410/
[6] RISU. (2019). Karta peryhodiv do Pravoslavnoyi Tserkvy Ukrainy [Map of communities’ switches to the OCU]. Retrieved from https://www.google.com/maps/d/u/0/viewer?mid=1XQR0sfHFFiiXyGiVYqI1mNylJ9fFPdnh&ll=50.37875869902123
[7] Ilko Kucheriv Democratic Initiatives Foundation (2019). Gromadyanske Suspilstvo v Ukrayini: Poglyad Gromadyan [Civil Society in Ukraine: Citizens’ View]. Retrieved from https://dif.org.ua/article/gromadyanske-suspilstvo-v-ukraini-poglyad-gromadyan?fbclid=IwAR05QDuGLUC2Zp5NlwYcrFyvRii2mYgEpVSbPASWLldFogfp5ajZWb6lW74
[8] See Pew Research Center (May 10th 2017). Religious belief and national belonging in Central and Eastern Europe. Retrieved from http://www.pewforum.org/2017/05/10/religious-belief-and-national-belonging-in-central-and-eastern-europe/
[9] According to the AUCCRO’s website, members of the All-Ukrainian Council of Churches and Religious Organizations are the All-Ukrainian Union of Churches of Evangelical Christians-Baptists, the Spiritual Administration of Muslims of Crimea, the Spiritual Administration of Muslims of Ukraine, the Transcarpathian Reformed Church, the German Evangelical-Lutheran Church of Ukraine, the Union of Jewish Religious Organizations of Ukraine, the Orthodox Church of Ukraine, the Roman Catholic Church in Ukraine, the Ukrainian Evangelical Church, the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church, the Ukrainian Church of Christians of Evangelical Faith, the Ukrainian Eparchy of the Armenian Apostolic Church, the Ukrainian Lutheran Church, the Ukrainian Orthodox Church (associated with the Moscow Patriarchate), the Ukrainian Union Conference of Seventh-Day Adventists, the Ukrainian Christian Evangelical Church, and the Ukrainian Biblical Society. See at: http://vrciro.org.ua/ua/council/members
[10] See more: Vovk, Dmytro. (2020) Dynamics of Church-State Relations in Ukraine and the Military Conflict with Russia: Political and Legal Aspects, in: Clark, Elizabeth A. & Vovk, Dmytro. (eds.), Religion during the Russian-Ukrainian Conflict (Routledge), pp. 32-53; Vovk, Dmytro. (2020). The Names of Religious Groups and Security Concerns. Talk About: Law and Religion. Retrieved from https://talkabout.iclrs.org/2019/10/03/the-names-of-religious-groups-and-security-related-concerns/
[11] Directive of the Cabinet of Ministers of Ukraine of July, 2, 2014, No. 677-r; Law No. 419-VIII (2015).
[12] See Article 16 of the 2001 Law on Pre-School Education, Article 11 of the Law on General Secondary Education, Article 14 of the 2014 Law on Higher Education.
[13] Figures of IDPs from Donbas remain contradictory. In August 2016 the Ministry of Social Policy of Ukraine listed 1,705,363 IDPs (Ministry of Social Policy of Ukraine. (August 30th 2016). Oblikovano 1,705,363 pereselentsi [1,705,363 IDPs are listed]. Retrieved from https://www.msp.gov.ua/news/8449.html). However, as of December 2019 the Ministry listed only 1,428,919 IDPs (Ministry of Social Policy of Ukraine. (December 9th 2019). Oblikovano 1,428,919 pereselentsi [1,428,919 IDPs are listed]. Retrieved from https://www.msp.gov.ua/news/17989.html). While some IDPs returned home, the number of registered IDPs has been mostly decreased because the government revoked this status for those persons not living permanently on government-controlled territory. It is also worth mentioning that in 2014 the Ukrainian government stopped paying pensions and social security payments to those residing on the territories outside its control. The status of IDP was the only way to renew these payments; The Ukrainian government has not provided statistics of how many Ukrainians have been displaced to Russia since 2014, particularly because a part of its border with Russia is under the control of pro-Russian proxies in Donbas. The Russian Ministry of Foreign Affairs reported that more than one million people displaced from Donbas are in Russia (V Rossii nahodytsya bolee 2 mln. ukraintsev, polovina is nih – bezhentsy s Donbassa – MID RF [There are more than 2 mln Ukrainians in Russia, a half of them are refugees from Donbass, Russian MFA says]. ( April 19th 2017). UNIAN. Retrieved from https://www.unian.net/society/1883854-v-rossii-nahodyatsya-bolee-2-millionov-ukraintsev-polovina-iz-nih-bejentsyi-s-donbassa-mid-rf.html). This figure, however, does not correlate with statistics posted by the Russian Federal Statistics Service (see at https://www.gks.ru/free_doc/new_site/population/demo/tab-migr4.htm). According to the UNHCR data, as of November 2018, there were 427,240 asylum seekers from Ukraine in Russia (UN Refugee Agency. (November 2018). Ukraine situation: Operational update. Retrieved from https://www.unhcr.org/ua/wp-content/uploads/sites/38/2018/12/2018-11-UNHCR-UKRAINE-Operational-Update-FINAL.pdf). The PACE Resolution 2028(2015) mentions 524,000 Ukrainians having sought for asylum or other legal status in the Russian Federations as a result of the annexation of Crimea and the armed conflict in Ukraine’s Donbass region (Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe. (n.d.). Resolution 2028(2015) ‘The humanitarian situation of Ukrainian refugees and displaced persons.’ Retrieved from https://assembly.coe.int/nw/xml/XRef/Xref-XML2HTML-en.asp?fileid=21480&lang=en). The true figures probably lie in between those provided by Russia and those of international organisations because not all persons displaced from Ukraine were registered as asylum-seekers, refugees or displaced persons; some of them may have applied for citizenship or obtained a permanent residence permit; Increasing labour migration from Ukraine is beyond the focus of this paper because Ukrainian religions seem to pay much less attention to these groups. An exception, which only proves the rule, is the project “Aware and Ready for Germany,” which is implemented by Caritas Ukraine, and focuses on the problems of Ukrainian labour migrants to Germany (see at: http://caritas.ua/migration-beratung/).
[14] All-Ukrainian Council of Churches and Religious Organizations. (October 31st 2014). Zvernennya na pidtrymku blagodiynytstva ta volonters’koyi diyal’nosti [Address in support of philanthropy and volunteering activities]. Retrieved from http://vrciro.org.ua/ua/statements/419-statement-for-support-volunteering-charity; All-Ukrainian Council of Churches and Religious Organizations. (February 10th 2015). Zvernennya pro obov’yazok dopomogty u zakhysti Bat’kivschyny [Address on the obligation to help in protecting the Homeland]. Retrieved from http://vrciro.org.ua/ua/statements/425-uccro-statement-defence-ukraine
[15] Committee for Social Services of the All-Ukrainian Council of Churches and Religious Organizations. (December 10th 2017). Strategiya uchasti tserkov i religiynyh organizatsiy u myrobuduvanni “Ukrayina – nash spil’ny dim” [Strategy of Ukrainian Religions’ Participation in Peacebuilding “Ukraine is Our Common Home”]. Retrieved from http://vrciro.org.ua/ua/documents/535-uccro-peacebuilding-strategy-ukraine
[16] Council of Churches and Religious Organizations under the head of the Transcarpathian Regional State Administration. (March 30th 2015). Zvernennya pro ob’’yednannya zarady myru v Ukrayini, zberezhennya yiyi nezalezhnosti ta teritorial’noyi tsilisnosti [Address on preservation of peace in Ukraine, its independence, and territorial integrity]. Prozak.info. Retrieved from http://prozak.info/Suspil-stvo/Rada-Cerkov-prosit-zakarpatciv-dopomagati-vjs-kovim-i-pereselencyam
[17] See: Zvenrnennya Pravozahystnogo Poryadku Dennogo shchodo svobody religiyi na tymchasovo ocupovanyh terytoriyah [Address of Human Rights Agenda on Freedom of Religion in the Temporary Occupied Territories]. (April 6th 2018). Retrieved from the Ukrainian Helsinki Human Rights Union’s website: https://helsinki.org.ua/appeals/zvernennya-pravozahysnoho-poryadku-dennoho-schodo-svobody-relihiji-na-tymchasovo-okupovanyh-terytoriyah/
[18] U Lvovi yezuyity prezentuvalu sviy dosvid dopomogy bizhentsyam ta pereselentsyam [In Lviv Jesuits present their expertise in providing care for refugees and displaced persons]. (2017, March 22). RISU. Retrieved from: https://risu.org.ua/ua/index/all_news/community/charity/66446
[19] Vidkryttya dennogo tsentru ta prytuku dlya vymushenyh pereselentsiv v Odesi [A day centre and a shelter for displaced persons was opened in Odesa]. (September 29th 2018). Retrieved from the Archdiocese of Lviv of the Roman Catholic Church in Ukraine’s website: http://www.rkc.lviv.ua/news_view-Vidkruttya_dennogo_centru_ta_prutulku_dlya_vumushenux_pereselenciv_v_Odesi-en. See also information about these centers and shelters at Depaul Ukraine Charity’s website: https://ua.depaulcharity.org/%D0%B3%D0%BE%D0%BB%D0%BE%D0%B2%D0%BD%D0%B0/%D0%BD%D0%B0%D1%88%D0%B0-%D1%80%D0%BE%D0%B1%D0%BE%D1%82%D0%B0/%D0%BD%D0%B0%D1%88%D1%96-%D0%BF%D1%80%D0%BE%D0%B5%D0%BA%D1%82%D0%B8
[20] Tsentr Materi i dytyny [Centre for mothers with children]. (n.d.). Retrieved from Caritas Kharkiv’s website: https://caritas.kharkiv.ua/2015.11/tsentr-materi-ta-dytyny/
[21] The name was taken from Shalom Aleichem’s novels.
[22] Smirnova, Olga. Anatevka: ubezhyshche dlya evreev s vostoka Ukrayiny [Anatevka: Refuge for Jews from Eastern Ukraine] [Video file]. BBC.com. Retrieved from: https://www.bbc.com/russian/av/media-44524083
[23] Bezhentsy v Svyatogorskoy Lavre [Refugees in the Svyatohirsk Lavra]. (August 22nd 2014). Retrieved from the Svyatohirsk Lavra’s website: https://svlavra.church.ua/2014/08/22/bezhency-v-svyatogorskoj-lavre/. The Monastery continues to host IDPs and permanently raise funds for their needs. The alleged involvement of the Sviatohirsk Lavra clergy in separatism and supporting unlawful military groups in Donbas, reported by Ukrainian media and NGOs, is beyond the scope of this paper.
[24] Mormons’ka Tserkva vydilyaye 1.5 mln. dolariv na dopomohu pereselentsyam z Donbasu [Mormon Church donates $1.5 mln for humanitarian aid to displaced persons from Donbass]. (October 25th 2014). Retrieved from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in Ukraine’s website: https://www.mormonnews.org.ua/%D1%81%D1%82%D0%B0%D1%82%D1%82%D1%8F/mormon-church-helps-refugees-from-donbass
[25] Aktsiya “Papa dlya Ukrayiny” [Action “Pope for Ukraine”]. (n.d.). Retrieved from the Archdiocese of Lviv of the Roman Catholic Church in Ukraine’s website: http://www.rkc.lviv.ua/category_3.php?cat_1=&cat_2=88&cat_3=171&lang=1.
[26] Luhans'ka eparhiya pryynyala humanitarni produkty dlya ditey ta postrazhdalyh [Luhansk Eparchy received donated food for children and injured persons]. (n.d.). Retrieved from Eleos Ukraine’s website: http://eleos.com.ua/luganska-eparkhiya-prijnyala-gumanitarni-produkti-dlya-ditej-ta-postrazhdalikh/
[27] See e.g.: Odeska Yeparhiya rehulyarno dopomahaye sotnyam pereselentsiv, yaki meshkayut’ v Odesi ta prymis’kyh naselenyh punktah [Odesa Eparchy supports on a regular basis hundreds of displaced persons in Odesa and Odesa area] (2016, February 11). Synodal Informational and Educational Department of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church. Retrieved from https://news.church.ua/2016/02/11/odeska-jeparxiya-regulyarno-dopomagaje-sotnyam-pereselenciv-yaki-meshkayut-v-odesi-ta-primiskix-naselenix-punktax-video/; Department of Information of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church. (November 11th 2015). Bilya khramu UHCTs na Askol’doviy mohyli hotuyut’ obidy dlya pereselentsiv [Lunches for displaced persons are being served near the UGCC church on the Askold’s Grave]. Retrieved from the Kyiv Archdiocese of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church’s website: https://ugcc.kiev.ua/blog/bilya-hramu-uhkts-na-askoldovij-mohyli-hotuyut-obidy-dlya-pereselentsiv/
[28] Daruvaty dobro prosto! [It is easy to do good to others!]. (December 26th 2016). Retrieved from the Dnipro Eparchy of the Orthodox Church of Ukraine’s website: http://cerkva.dp.ua/daruvati-dobro-prosto/; Yevanhelichna seminariya ta Tserkva “Filadelfiya” organizuvaly svyato Rizdva dlya malen’kyh perselentsiv zi Shodu Ukrayiny [The Evangelical theologian seminary and the Church “Philadelphia” hosted a Christmas party for minors displaced from Eastern Ukraine]. (December 28th 2016). Retrieved from http://www.chve.org.ua/ets-rojdestvo-29-12-16/
[29] See at: https://careerfornewlife.com; See about legal aid and psychological care provided by branches of Caritas Ukraine in several Ukrainian cities: Fahivtsi Kartas Zaporizhzhya provely zahid psycho-sotsial’noyi pidtrymky dlya VPO [Specialists of Caritas Zaporizhia provide psycho-social care to IDPs]. (October 23rd 2019). Retrieved from http://caritas.ua/news/fahivtsi-karitasu-zaporizhzhya-provely-grupovyj-zahid-psyhosotsialnoyi-pidtrymky-dlya-vpo/; Psychologichny suprovid [Psychological care]. (n.d.). Retrieved from http://caritas.ua/news/fahivtsi-karitasu-zaporizhzhya-provely-grupovyj-zahid-psyhosotsialnoyi-pidtrymky-dlya-vpo/; Yuryst [Lawyer]. (n.d.). Retrieved from http://caritas-donetsk.org.ua/dijalnist/konsultacii/jurist
[30] Bezkoshtovna yurydychna dopomoga [Legal aid pro bono]. (n.d.). Retrieved from https://ua.depaulcharity.org/
[31] “Ya znayu, ty mozhesh!” [I know, you can!]. (n.d.). Retrieved from http://eleos.com.ua/proekt-ya-znayu-ty-mozhesh/
[32] TeenClub. (n.d.). Retrieved from http://eleos.com.ua/teenclub/; Vseukrayins’ka aktsiya “Ranets’ dobroty” [All-Ukrainian Action “Backpack of goodness”]. (n.d.). Retrieved from http://eleos.com.ua/vseukrayinska-aktsiya-ranets-dobroty/.
[33] Shkil’ny portfelik [School Backpack]. (n.d.). Retrieved from http://caritas.ua/portfelyk/; Karitas Ivano-Frankivs’k zibrav do shkoly 46 pershoklassnykiv [Caritas Ivano-Frankivsk provided school supplies for 46 first graders]. (August 31st 2019). Retrieved from http://caritas.ua/multimediya/videogalereya/karitas-ivano-frankivsk-zibrav-do-shkoly-46-pershoklasnykiv/
[34] Refugees here are persons who were granted with the status of refugee in Ukraine. Most of refugees and asylum-seekers came to Ukraine from Afghanistan and Syria (see at https://www.unhcr.org/ukraine.html); Pokaznyky diyal’nosti DMS za 9 misyatsiv 2019 roku [Performance indicators of the SMS of Ukraine for the first nine months of 2019]. (n.d.). Retrieved from https://dmsu.gov.ua/assets/files/statistic/year/2019_9.pdf; UNCHR data is available here: https://www.unhcr.org/ua/11846-2; According to the 2001 Ukrainian Law on Immigration, immigrants are foreigners and stateless persons who have obtained an immigration permit and live in Ukraine permanently. Most immigrants are from post-Soviet countries; Pokaznyky diyal’nosti DMS za 9 misyatsiv 2019 roku [Performance indicators of the SMS of Ukraine for the first nine months of 2019]. (n.d.). Retrieved from https://dmsu.gov.ua/assets/files/statistic/year/2019_9.pdf; The up-to-date number of individuals officially registered as IDPs can be found here: https://www.msp.gov.ua/news/17989.html
[35] See more at: Institute of Religious Freedom. (2018). Religious freedom at gunpoint: Russian terror in the occupied territories of Eastern Ukraine (analytical report) [Adobe Digital Editions version]. Retrieved from https://www.irf.in.ua/files/publications/2018.10.24-IRF-Report-ENG.pdf
[36] Merte, Lauren Van, Steiner, Steven E., Harring Melinda. ( October 2017). Ukraine’s Internally Displaced Persons Hold a Key to Peace: Issue Brief. Retrieved from the Atlantic Council’s website: https://www.atlanticcouncil.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/05/Ukraines_Internally_Displaced_Persons_Hold_a_Key_to_Peace_web_1003.pdf
[post_title] => Religion and Forced Displacement in Ukraine
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[post_content] => The Uzbek economic model
As an independent state, Uzbekistan appeared on the world map in 1991. The country launched reforms that were supposed to create a base for running a market economy. In 1996, however the course of the economy was radically shifted towards intensification of state intervention in the economy and the implementation of an import substitution policy. To accelerate industrial development, the state redistributed huge flows of material, financial, monetary and labour resources through:
| 1995 | 2018 | Growth | 1995 | 2018 | Growth | ||
| China | 610 | 9771 | 16,0 | Moldova | 477 | 3227 | 6,8 |
| Azerbaijan | 397 | 4721 | 11,9 | Mongolia | 632 | 4122 | 6,5 |
| Vietnam | 277 | 2567 | 9,3 | India | 374 | 2010 | 5,4 |
| Armenia | 456 | 4212 | 9,2 | Belarus | 1371 | 6290 | 4,6 |
| Lithuania | 2169 | 19153 | 8,8 | Russia | 2666 | 11289 | 4,2 |
| Georgia | 578 | 4717 | 8,2 | Tajikistan | 214 | 827 | 3,9 |
| Latvia | 2322 | 17861 | 7,7 | Kyrgyzstan | 364 | 1281 | 3,5 |
| Kazakhstan | 1288 | 9813 | 7,6 | Ukraine | 936 | 3095 | 3,3 |
| Estonia | 3131 | 23266 | 7,4 | Uzbekistan | 586 | 1532 | 2,6 |
Source: www.adb.org
Time of reforms
Uzbekistan's economy needs fundamental, systemic and consistent reforms and the replacement of the entire system of public institutions. The key task is to create environment for normal operation of effective market mechanisms.
Uzbekistan's economic reforms began after the assumption of power by the new president. The following reforms are most important ones from an economic perspective:
| Company | Role | Lot | Shareholders |
| High Land City | Investor | One | Ismail Israilov (81.24%), Techno Continental (8.19%), Next Generation Product (8.17%), and Azizxuja Azlarov (2.40%) |
| Akfa Dream World | Investor | Five | Perfect Plast Profil (21.4%) (April 2020 update[17]: Wide Tent System 31.45%, Techno Continental 21.36%, Perfect Plast Profil 19.23%, Asia Electron 12.92%, Atlant Metal 6.44%, Baxodir Abdullayev 8.6%) |
| Premium Village | Investor | Seven | Ismail Israilov (23.28%), Quality Electronics (37.2%), Asia Electron (28.51%), Factory of Technologies (9.3%), Athamjon Israilov (1.17%) |
| Discover Invest | Contractor | One, Five, Seven and Eight | Abror Ganiyev (86.18%), Sobirjon Xakimov (13.82%) |
| Company | Shareholders | Person with Significant Control (UK only) |
| Techno Continental | Wynex Innovation LLP (100%) | None declared |
| Next Generation Product | MacMerry Management LP (50%), Singapore Syndicate Group Pte Ltd (50%) | Dalston Management LP (Dalston Management declares no PSC) |
| Perfect Plast Profil | Esperansa Group LP (100%) | Esperansa Incorporated LP[22] |
| Wide Tent System | Esperansa Group LP (100%) | Esperansa Incorporated LP |
| Asia Electron | MacMerry Management LLP (50%), Commerce Standard Pte Ltd (50%) | Dalston Management LP (Dalston Management declares no PSC) |
| Quality Electronics | MacMerry Management LP (50%), Commerce Standard Pte Ltd (50%) | Dalston Management LP (Dalston Management declares no PSC) |
| Factory of Technologies | MacMerry Management LP (50%), Singapore Syndicate Group Pte Ltd (50%) | Dalston Management LP (Dalston Management declares no PSC) |
The graph shows that there has been a steady increase in the number of NGO registrations in Uzbekistan for the last ten years which almost doubled from 5,103 NGOs in 2009 to 9,338 in 2019. However, can these quantitative changes speak of a quality change and a real breakthrough in the development of civil society in Uzbekistan? Firstly, it is necessary to understand how the figures are calculated and what type of NGOs make up the ostensible positive dynamics. Importantly, the overall number includes all city, district and regional representative offices and branches of NGOs, political parties and trade unions which leads to a multiplier effect. Importantly, a distinction must be drawn between systemic and self-initiated NGOs.[4] Systemic NGOs are government-organised non-government organisations (GONGOs) established by government decrees, directly funded by the state budget and have an extensive network of regional branches.
For instance, before the Women’s Committee of Uzbekistan and the Republican Council for the Coordination of Activities of Citizens’ Self-Government Bodies (the Mahalla Fund) were merged into the Ministry for Support of Mahalla and Family in February 2020 both NGOs counted hundreds of local branches as separate NGOs.[5] As these two systemic NGOs ceased to exist, a possible reduction in the total number of NGOs is expected. Currently, systemic NGOs including their branches account for about 65 per cent of all registered NGOs in Uzbekistan – more than 6000 units.[6]
Struggling with registration of self-initiated NGOs
Another question is whether the quasi-governmental systemic NGOs represent genuine civil society institutions in Uzbekistan. Only about 3000 registered NGOs can be considered as self- initiated by groups of activists which operate at the grassroots level without direct financial support of the government and territorial branches across the country.[7] While systemic NGOs, public organisations and funds of those groups enjoy a close relationship with the government and are easily registered, civil society activists may spend months or even years to do so and face formal and informal barriers when registering their organisations with the Ministry of Justice. Although positive steps are being taken to support civil society in Uzbekistan, the internal administrative procedures of registration for self-initiated NGOs remains bureaucratic, with red tape seemingly designed to frustrate applicants into giving up in the end.
The registering bodies are applying unlawful tactics when reviewing applications which contradict the newly adopted law ‘On Administrative Procedures’.[8] Despite the fact that the review period of the constituent documents was reduced to one month the registration process can be quite lengthy as the judicial authorities do not indicate the full list of shortcomings at first application and keep refusing the NGO registration based on new and vaguely defined mistakes in the organisation’s charter or other founding documents. If necessary, the registering authority has the right to send the application documents to ‘relevant organisations for an expert examination’ which should provide their opinion within 20 days of receiving the documents.[9] However, these ‘expert organisations’ and the criteria for judging registration documents of self-initiated NGOs remain vague and the decisions by third party expert organisations are not usually disclosed to applicants.
The case of an initiative group, a youth volunteer centre, ‘Oltin Qanot’ (Golden Wing) which has been struggling to register as an NGO since October 2018 and has received more than ten refusals from the justice authorities confirms the above mentioned complexities.[10] The initiative group would like to establish an NGO in Tashkent city and has applied to the Department of Justice of Tashkent city, a route deemed easier than registering an NGO at the Ministry of Justice. The reason for the continuous refusals of ‘Oltin Qanot’ can be associated with the monopoly status of the systemic NGO Youth Union of Uzbekistan. The necessity for registration of another youth organisation is most likely questioned by the registering authorities and ‘expert organisations’ as the Youth Union is already in charge of this sphere. Moreover, the Youth Union itself can be listed among organisations which can give their ‘expertise’ on feasibility or usefulness of opening another youth organisation which creates a conflict of interest of a systemic NGO reviewing the registration documents of a potential self-initiative NGO.
The low level of legal literacy amongst initiative groups further complicates the registration process as the Ministry of Justice state they ‘are not entitled to provide legal support in the preparation of constituent documents on state registration of NGOs to counteract the occurrence of a conflict of interests and corruption risks in the judiciary’.[11] While the authorities made sample Charter documents for various types of business entities publicly available and it is now possible to register a commercial company online in 30 minutes via the Single-Window System Centre, self-initiative groups are left behind without any support to facilitate the registration process of NGOs.[12] Although the new e-ngo.uz portal allows online submission of registration documents the internal review procedures remain unchanged. Without officially approved sample NGO Charters grassroots activists are turning to paid services of lawyers which cannot guarantee the correctness of the prepared Charter. The registering bodies can find faults in the constituent documents and reject registration on the basis of the smallest grammatical mistakes or issues with their translation into Uzbek as all the application documents must be submitted in the state language.
Burdensome requirements for notification and prior approval
The lengthy and discouraging process of registering self-initiated NGOs is only the beginning in terms of obstacles. After exhaustive time and money consuming administrative procedures and obtaining the long-awaited certificate of NGO registration, many grassroots civil society organisations are facing other barriers in the process of carrying out their statutory activities.[13] Although the law ‘On Non-Governmental Non-Profit Organisations’ forbids ‘interference by state bodies and their officials in the activities of NGOs’ the Ministry of Justice obliges NGOs to inform them in advance about all planned activities, including conferences, seminars, trainings, meetings, events, roundtables, symposia and other forms of events due to take place in Uzbekistan or overseas.[14] At the same time these burdensome requirements do not apply to political parties and religious organisations which also have NGO status.
For instance, if an NGO plans to hold an event on the territory of Uzbekistan without participation of foreign nationals it should notify the local justice authority at least ten days before the event takes place. If the planned event in Uzbekistan involves foreign citizens or is to take place on the territory of a foreign state – notification should be sent at least 20 days before the event. There is a special notification form consisting of 12 questions to be answered. This form can now be sent online through the e-ngo.uz portal and the information to be provided in advance includes: the theme of the event and the number of participants; the date and the venue; the basis for the holding and sources of funding; attached copies of handouts; print, audio-visual and other materials; as well as personal data of participating foreign citizens. NGOs must also notify officials about all their foreign travel related to the activities of their NGOs and about visits of international guests to Uzbekistan. All above mentioned onerous requirements in practice illustrate direct intervention of the authorities in the activities of NGOs. The justice authorities also have the power to reject or stop activities even if the formal requirements are fulfilled and all necessary documents have been submitted. However, an NGO retains the right to appeal to the court if it is dissatisfied with the decision of the judicial body to ban the event.[15]
Restrictions on foreign funding
While the financial assistance of the Uzbek government to support the third sector is quite limited barriers are still in place for NGOs to receive grants and other financial support from abroad. The public fund for the support of NGOs and other civil society institutions under the Oliy Majlis is one of the few sources of financial support for NGOs. The diagram below shows the financial flows in the NGO sector of Uzbekistan in 2016. Membership fees and other voluntary contributions account for 28.2 per cent and form the main source of NGOs funding. Importantly, only 11 per cent are funds received from foreign and international organisations while about ten per cent comes from the state trust and extra-budgetary funds.
In his May 2018 decree President Mirziyoyev pointed out that ‘funds allocated by the state to support civil society institutions do not allow the implementation of their medium-term and long-term large-scale and republic-wide projects and programs’.[16] Therefore, the decree outlined the creation of public funds to support NGOs through the allocation of the necessary resources from regional state budgets. Although such public funds were registered in all regions across Uzbekistan, not many of them are actually operating as their funds have not yet been allocated and their staff have not been recruited.
Based on the laws ‘On NGOs’ and ‘On Public Associations’, NGOs are entitled to receive grants and financial support from foreign donors.[17] The Ministry of Justice says that ‘the use of funds and property received by NGOs from foreign states, international and foreign organisations is carried out without any obstacles after agreeing on their receipt with the registration authority’.[18] It should be acknowledged that there have been some alleviations for NGOs to receive foreign grants by opening a grant account at any bank in Uzbekistan. Before NGOs would have had to open special accounts at only two banks, the National Bank for Foreign Economic Affairs of the Republic of Uzbekistan or the state-owned joint-stock commercial bank Asaka where a so-called special ‘grant commission’ carried out evaluations of received grant funds based on unwritten rules and criteria.
In October 2019 the Cabinet of Ministers of Uzbekistan approved a new regulation on the procedures for coordination of the money and property received by NGOs from international donors. According to the decree signed by the Prime Minister of Uzbekistan Abdulla Aripov, if the amount of foreign cash and property received by an NGO within one calendar year does not exceed 20 ‘basic calculation values’ (4,460,000 Uzbekistani Som as of February 1st 2020), then the documents are submitted to the Ministry of Justice for information. If the amount exceeds this, documents must be submitted for approval.[19] Considering that 20 BCV in one calendar year is a minor amount (about 450 US dollars), for many NGOs relying on foreign funding coordination means getting approval. Furthermore, the Ministry of Justice retains the right to reject receipt of foreign funding if the funds are found to ‘jeopardise [the] health and moral values of citizens’.[20] Taking into consideration the vague nature of the concept of ‘morality’, which is not legally defined, this provision can be used by the authorities to refuse foreign funding for NGOs.
Low organisational capacity of self-initiated NGOs
Due to the limited financial support from the government and existing barriers on international funding self-initiated NGOs, unlike systemic GONGOs, do not have sufficient organisational capacity and resources. This was also confirmed by the presidential decree from May 2018 recognising that ‘the state of material and technical support of non-governmental non-profit organisations is still unsatisfactory’. One of the biggest problems self-initiated NGOs are facing is the inability to rent office spaces to carry out their activities. About 80 per cent of NGOs do not have their own premises, particularly in the remote regions.[21]
Based on the decree the Council of Ministers of the Republic of Karakalpakstan, hokimiyats (local government) of regions and the city of Tashkent, together with the State Committee for the Promotion of Privatised Enterprises and the Development of Competition, had to create ‘houses of NGOs’ based in empty or inefficiently used state property in all regions of Uzbekistan until January 1st 2019. Nevertheless, only three ‘house of NGO’ were created throughout the republic – one in Urgench, where only 19 NGOs were provided with office space, one in Gulistan, where 12 NGOs found shelter, and one in Nukus. The office spaces in the ‘houses of NGOs’ should be primarily allocated to newly established NGOs in socially significant areas at a ‘zero’ rental rate. However, there are doubts that this will be enforced, and that preference will be given to systemic GONGOs rather than self-initiated grassroots organisations. The creation of several NGO houses in each region may not be a feasible solution as there will be not enough for the estimated 3000 self-initiated NGOs.
Centralisation of charity activity during the COVID-19 pandemic
The first case of COVID-19 was registered in Uzbekistan on March 14th and on the same day the Uzbek government announced the shutting down of schools, colleges and universities.[22] Subsequently the Tashkent government introduced strict quarantine measures step-by-step: banning and introducing penalties for walking in public without PPE, closing all border checkpoints, prohibiting weddings and other public gatherings, cancelling all domestic flights and railways, suspending public transport, putting restrictions on using private vehicles, etc.[23] Despite these strict measures the initiative to support vulnerable groups (elderly, disabled and low-income families) came from volunteers and grassroots civil society activists that used social networks (Telegram and Facebook) to distribute help to those in need.
However, on April 1st Elmira Basitkhanova the former chairperson of the systemic NGO Women’s Committee of Uzbekistan who was appointed first deputy Minister for Mahalla and Family Affairs announced in public that in five days 200 complaints were received about the delivery of food to the elderly and low-income families by volunteer groups.[24] She backed up her argument to curb volunteer efforts asking whether donating to elderly people who are at higher risk of contracting the coronavirus is a violation of quarantine requirements, questioning how their safety is ensured and who controls the quality of delivered products. Therefore, on April 1st the Sponsorship Coordination Centre was established under the Ministry for the Support for Mahalla and Family with a single short number 1197.[25] It was recommended to transfer all donations to a systemic public foundation with an NGO status, ‘O'zbekiston mehr-shafqat va salomatlik’ (Uzbekistan - mercy and health), which was established by the Government of Uzbekistan in November 28, 1988 at a conference in February 1989 and re-registered by the Ministry of Justice of the Republic of Uzbekistan on November 21st 2014.[26] Thus, the Uzbek government centralised and monopolised charity allocation through a single government-organised public fund and the Sponsorship Coordination Centre while the activities of volunteer groups and civil society organisations were restricted.[27]
Moreover, on April 20th President Mirziyoyev proposed the creation of another systemic NGO fund, ‘Saxovat va ko’mak umumxalq harakati’ (nationwide movement ‘Generosity and Assistance’), suggesting that businessmen and entrepreneurs should transfer their donations to the fund to actively support vulnerable members of population in their local mahallas during the period which coincided with the holy month of Ramadan.[28] The businessmen who donated to the fund were promised by the president they would receive various benefits (e.g. taxes concessions, access to leasing, credits and other resources) depending on the level of assistance and support they provided. Rather than resorting to ‘helicopter money’ Mirziyoyev decided to provide social protection via his appeal to businesses and entrepreneurs.[29]
Due to the lack of transparency and accountability of the state-organised funds there were several cases of violations and crime related to the appropriation of donated funds. For instance, a deputy mayor (Khokim) in the Akkurgan district who was the head of the district department for mahalla and family affairs misappropriated charitable funds from the ‘Mahalla’ fund and ‘Saxovat va ko’mak’ fund. The Prosecutor’s Office have opened a criminal case under Article 167 (theft by embezzlement) of the Criminal Code.[30] In another investigative report it was found that the activities of the state-owned charity fund ‘Saxovat and ko’mak’ contradicts the laws of Uzbekistan, which prohibits the government to create such foundations.[31] Moreover, the journalist found that the fund purchased products at inflated prices, and its account was replenished through ‘voluntary’ random deductions from the salaries of employees of state organisations.
Apart from the embezzlement of public funds, the top down approach to charity allocation has had negative impacts on the most vulnerable segments of Uzbek society. Firstly, the centralisation of aid allocation in the form of a single Centre and single emergency hotline considerably increased the transactions costs to review each application, which was quite difficult in the absence of any eligibility criteria and lack of a single database of children and adults in need of social protection. The one-size-fits-all approach with a fixed bundle of basic goods did not really work as the people had unique needs. As a result, many people who needed help were not able to reach the hotline on the phone and were left behind.
Social partnership and trust of the government in volunteer groups and civil society organisations rather than the monopolisation of charity activities via government-organised public funds would have been a more effective and efficient response to the needs of the vulnerable amid strict COVID-19 quarantine measures. Compared to systemic GONGOs, self-initiated NGOs and civil society groups already had an extended network of beneficiaries at the grassroots levels and a better understand of the needs of their members. Therefore, the transaction costs and time they use to distribute goods and services might be lesser. Importantly, if the Uzbek government had cooperated with such NGOs the staff and volunteers could have been supported and remunerated for their charity work thus being able to sustain their families as well through the crisis. The COVID-19 pandemic should have been used an opportunity to develop the organisational capacity of self-initiated NGOs to make them more resilient for future crises.
Strict controls rather than equal partnership
In March 2020 the registration of a human rights NGO Huquqiy Tayanch (Legal Support), the first since 2003, has sparked some hope for further liberalisation of the third sector in Uzbekistan.[32] Despite this successful single case and the recent easements in the formal registration and regulation requirements of NGOs in Uzbekistan tightly controlled measures are still in force. The sector is in need of systemic changes to provide freedom of association and to develop models of equal social partnership.[33] Persistent stereotypes and prejudices towards independent NGOs prevail, with a lack of trust and negative attitudes towards NGOs, sometimes seen as ‘foreign agents’ by the Uzbek government and society may further hinder the reforms that are vital to strengthen the capacity of self-initiated NGOs.[34]
On April 16th 2020 the Public Chamber under the President was created with the main objective to establish a dialogue between the state, citizens, and civil society institutions.[35] The Public Chamber can organise public hearings, examine draft laws and regulations, and monitor and prepare annual national reports on the state of civil society in Uzbekistan. However, as not all of its members are elected, with 18 out of the 50 members appointed by the president, there are doubts that the Chamber will be truly public and independent and that it may turn into another state Chamber.[36]
Currently, the Ministry of Justice together with civil society activists are working on a new NGO code which should become a touchstone to develop a genuine and vibrant civil society in Uzbekistan. However, the working group should have submitted a draft of the NGO code to the Cabinet of Ministers by February 1st 2020. This is not the first delay, with several deadlines missed already.[37] To make it happen the authorities are advised to follow these recommendations:
Interview in Qarshi, Uzbekistan with recently released journalist Yusuf Ruzimurodov, imprisoned for 19 years and tortured. © Steve Swerdlow, Philippe Dam, Qarshi, November 2018.
Dismantling another legacy, in August 2019, the president ordered the closure of the notorious Jaslyk prison – long a symbol of Uzbekistan’s torture epidemic and imprisonment of government critics – fulfilling a demand United Nations (UN) human rights bodies first issued 17 years earlier. Ruzimuradov, Bekjanov, Turgunov, and Farmonov all served time there. There is ongoing concern, however, that authorities have not permanently closed the facility and could still use it to detain suspects.
This January, Mirziyoyev announced the abolition of the propiska, or Soviet-era residence permit, which allowed authorities to highly restrict citizens’ internal freedom of movement. And breaking with decades of internet censorship, he ordered a lifting of the ban on several critical websites, with his government’s key representative on the media all but conceding that social media and bloggers are now some of Uzbekistan’s most important arbiters of public opinion. Despite a more vibrant media landscape, however, some bloggers and journalists are still subject to harassment, even detention, when sniffing out corruption or challenging the conduct of local authorities.[2] Probably the most notable attempt to stamp out Soviet and Karimov-era abuses has been the government’s significant efforts to eradicate forced adult and child labour in Uzbekistan’s cotton sector.
The above steps represent significant breakthroughs on human rights. But the past, especially when left unexamined, has a way of taking revenge on well-intentioned reform plans, and of projecting itself onto the future. The only way to ensure Uzbekistan decisively moves beyond the Karimov era’s worst abuses and further improves its human rights record is for the government to commit to a meaningful process of reckoning with the past and of transitional justice. Transitional justice refers to judicial and non-judicial measures focused on truth and reconciliation as well as on justice and accountability to acknowledge and redress the legacy of widespread human rights abuses that became systematic under the rule of Islam Karimov.
Furthermore, violating its international and national obligations, Tashkent has yet to create avenues for the rehabilitation of freed political and religious prisoners—many of whom remain in terrible health due to the ordeal they experienced behind bars for decades. Uzbekistan’s former and still detained political prisoners are entitled to justice and reparations for the serious human rights violations they have endured—a process that is not yet on the table in Uzbekistan.
Embedded in international human rights law, transitional justice focuses on holding perpetrators accountable for abuses and recognising the suffering and dignity of the victims. It also seeks to establish an accurate account of the past—something which has never been possible since Uzbekistan became independent in 1991. Moreover, transitional justice is necessary for an Uzbekistan that is slowly emerging from a period of intense repression, but where human rights violations have been so severe and entrenched in the way the county has functioned for a generation that the normal justice system is not yet able to provide justice.
While not possible to examine each in depth here, transitional justice measures in Uzbekistan could include: (1) public criminal prosecutions of the perpetrators of serious abuses; (2) truth commissions relating to the persecution of government critics, including for the mass killings in Andijan in May 2005; (3) reparations for and the rehabilitation of victims of torture and politically-motivated imprisonment; (4) institutional reform of the State Security Services (SSS) and police; and (5) memorialisation of past abuses in the form of public spaces, monuments, and museums.
Museums in both Lithuania and Estonia have been built to memorialize the crimes of the Soviet period, in some cases, on the premises of the former KGB headquarters. Some have suggested that President Mirziyoyev and the Uzbek parliament consider transforming the former headquarters of the feared Uzbek State Security Services (SSS) into such a museum. © Steve Swerdlow, Tallinn, Vilnius, February 2019, November 2018.
This essay aims to provide a roadmap for transitional justice in Uzbekistan by examining the international and domestic legal framework that already exists to support such efforts. It summarises the courageous attempts by former political prisoners to pursue their individual legal rehabilitation, and in so doing, a larger national conversation about Uzbekistan’s dark past. It also mentions statements by some government officials, however tentative, to open the door to a reckoning with Uzbekistan’s past and ongoing human rights abuses.
The brutal torture and death in police custody of Andijan resident Alijon Abdukarimov in May 2020 and the rare, public outcry Abdukarimov’s death has engendered illustrates the difficulty of rooting out entrenched policies and practice of human rights abuse without sustained, independent scrutiny, parliamentary oversight, and the robust involvement of independent media and civil society.
Transitional justice and rehabilitation are needed here and now in Uzbekistan. While the results of some of the above-listed reforms are real and have in effect overturned a significant amount of the Karimov legacy, government officials, including President Mirziyoyev himself, have only made oblique references to the repression of the past, preferring instead to ‘look ahead’. Such an approach, however, is insufficient in addressing the underlying human rights issues that must be addressed for Uzbekistan to move forward.
Transitional justice and rehabilitation are essential for helping establish respect for the rule of law and accountable institutions after decades in which neither has existed. Such processes will be extraordinarily difficult to achieve and require serious political courage. But absent a sobering national dialogue about past abuses—one primarily guided by the voices of independent civil society—it will be hard to imagine the ambitious reform program President Mirziyoyev has made the hallmark of his administration being successful or sustainable over the long term.
Rehabilitation is a Right
In 2005, the UN Commission on Human Rights adopted the UN Basic Principles and Guidelines on the Right to a Remedy and Reparation for Victims of Gross Violations of International Human Rights Law and Serious Violations of International Humanitarian Law (hereafter ‘Basic Principles’). The Basic Principles aim to merge international humanitarian and human rights law and stress the importance of and obligation to implement domestic reparations for victims of abuses. In March 2006, the Basic Principles were adopted by the UN General Assembly, further strengthening their status even though they are formally non-binding.[3]
Significantly, the Basic Principles detail the range of possible reparations—restitution, compensation, rehabilitation, satisfaction, and guarantees of non-repetition. The Basic Principles, while still in draft form, were already being referred to in the jurisprudence of numerous human rights treaty bodies, and figure in several recently adopted international legal instruments and domestic legislation, and have also been applied by a number of truth commissions across the globe.[4] The Basic Principles largely reflect already established norms in international law and make an important contribution in unifying and reinforcing them.
Relevant to victims of serious human rights abuses in Uzbekistan, Nowak and MacArthur state: 'usually, victims of torture are not primarily interested in monetary compensation but in other means of reparation which are better suited to restore their dignity and humanity.”[5]
International law does not clearly define rehabilitation as a form of reparation. The closest expression of a definition found in the Basic Principles shows that in certain situations persons who have suffered serious human rights or humanitarian law violations should be redressed by way of, among others, rehabilitation, meaning physical and psychological care as well as social and legal services.[6] Therefore, while the concept of rehabilitation set out in the Basic Principles points to forms of rehabilitation beyond health, it does not fully define what each one of them means or includes.
Diane Shelton, a leading scholar on reparations, defines rehabilitation as a right of “all victims of serious abuse and their dependants” [sic] and is “the process of restoring the individual’s full health and reputation after the trauma of a serious attack on one’s physical or mental integrity [...] It aims to restore what has been lost. Rehabilitation seeks to achieve maximum physical and psychological fitness by addressing the individual, the family, local community and even the society as a whole.”[7]
Recently, the UN Committee against Torture made more urgent and concrete Uzbekistan’s obligation to provide rehabilitation to former political prisoners and victims of torture. In its December 2019 Concluding Observations, welcoming Tashkent’s release of a ‘substantial number’ of political prisoners since September 2016, the Committee called on the government to ‘exonerate’ those convicted in unfair trials or on the basis of torture, provide them with ‘redress, including compensation and rehabilitation’ and to ‘consider creating an independent commission to investigate these matters.’[8]
Beginning in September 2016, following former prime minister Shavkat Mirziyoyev’s ascendancy to the presidency on the death of Islam Karimov, the Uzbek government began to release political prisoners – among them human rights activists, journalists, political opposition and peaceful religious figures. To date, approximately 55 high profile political prisoners have been released. Almost none have received rehabilitation. © Steve Swerdlow, September 2014.
Former Prisoners Lack Access to Justice
Although it has received praise for their release, the Uzbek government has taken no concrete action to rehabilitate the approximately 55 political prisoners, including human rights defenders, political activists, journalists, and other public figures, nor the many other religious prisoners it has freed. The vast majority of those the government has released are still presumed to be guilty of committing a crime.
The mechanism of release has taken the form of pardons, early releases, or amnesties, rather than successful appeals or any official action taken to explicitly recognise that detention was unlawful or arbitrary. While some of the long-term imprisoned human rights defenders and journalists refused to officially ask forgiveness for the crimes they did not commit as a condition for release, some were pressured to do so.
In practice, Tashkent’s current policy amounts to a refusal to acknowledge officially the arbitrary or politically motivated nature of the original detention and later imprisonment and deprives victims of an opportunity to investigate the perpetrators of serious abuses they have suffered.
In the absence of government action to provide rehabilitation, many released political prisoners have taken it upon themselves to seek legal reviews of their earlier convictions. In the process, they have met with serious obstacles.
“We Regret to Inform You That Your Case File Has Been Destroyed”
Several released prisoners report that they are unable to obtain the court documents in their own cases without which they are unable to file and litigate appeals of their original convictions.
For example, Samandar Kukanov, a former member of parliament who served 23 years and five months in prison in retaliation for his peaceful opposition political activity, was released on November 24th, 2016. “I served longer than any other political prisoner in Uzbekistan’s history,” Kukanov told me. “During the 23 years of my imprisonment, several of my family members were jailed and my wife’s health was destroyed. More than anything I want to be exonerated because I never committed the crimes for which I was convicted.”
In September 2018, after filing an appeal with the Tashkent Regional Court to review his criminal sentence, Kukanov received a letter informing him that the “materials of his criminal case” had been “destroyed in accordance with established procedure” on April 6th, 2017 by the Tashkent Region State Archive. On this basis, the letter said, his requests for “full rehabilitation” could not be reviewed. The letter later proved to be an attempt by authorities to derail him from prosecuting the case.
The following year, Kukanov went on to argue for his rehabilitation in Uzbekistan’s Supreme Court—a remarkable hearing attended by the author of this piece. His lawyers argued passionately that the case had been fabricated on the basis of false evidence, was retaliation for Kukanov’s peaceful opposition to Karimov, and that the conviction should be overturned in accordance with the “reforms of the new president.” Nonetheless, in July 2019, the Supreme Court rejected Kukanov’s effort to quash the conviction and ruled that “all charges in the [original] case… had been proven.” Kukanov is determined to continue his struggle and will appeal again.
Former political prisoner and political activist Samandar Kukanov (center) served almost 24 years in prison on political grounds, making him the world’s longest serving political prisoner after Nelson Mandela. In June 2019, Kukanov and his lawyers petitioned Uzbekistan’s Supreme Court for rehabilitation but his petition was denied. © Steve Swerdlow, Tashkent, June 2019.
Multiple UN Rulings for Rehabilitation, Compensation Ignored
Erkin Musaev, a UN employee and former government official, was tortured and unjustly jailed for 11 years. He was freed on August 11th, 2017 after the Supreme Court issued a decision shortening his sentence. In its 2007 Human Rights report on Uzbekistan, the United States (US) State Department reported that Musaev was tortured in detention, which included severe beatings to his head, chest, and feet, and held for two months without access to a lawyer or any visitors.[9] A joint letter from the UN special rapporteur on torture and the head of the UN Working Group on Arbitrary Detention to then-President Karimov said that one beating by prison officials broke Musaev’s jaw. Authorities also coerced him to sign a confession that he had engaged in espionage for the US, the United Kingdom (UK), and the UN.
In May 2008, the UN Working Group on Arbitrary Detention held that Musaev’s imprisonment was ‘arbitrary’, and in contravention of several international treaties to which Uzbekistan is a party. By February 2011, when authorities transferred Musaev to a high security prison in Navoi province his body showed signs of burns and other wounds. In June 2012, the UN Human Rights Committee issued its decision that the government had tortured and otherwise ill-treated Musaev and violated his rights to liberty, security, and fair trial under the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (articles seven, nine and 14 respectively). The committee called on Uzbekistan to provide him with an effective remedy for the violations. But authorities ignored the ruling, and Musaev remained in prison until 2017.[10]
Musaev’s efforts to obtain legal rehabilitation have been repeatedly thwarted. Court authorities refuse to provide him with his criminal sentence and have denied his right to appeal on the basis that he did not submit it in the file. Like other former prisoners Musaev has struggled to find gainful employment due to his criminal record. He has been subjected to surveillance by security services and has faced great difficulties reintegrating into society after years in prison.
Remarkably, the existence of two separate rulings from UN human rights bodies declaring his conviction unlawful and calling for him to be provided compensation and a remedy have not moved Uzbek authorities in Uzbekistan to fully exonerate Musaev, nor to even open a new trial. They should do so immediately.
Movements Restricted, Surveilled
Other former prisoners who were ‘conditionally released’ under Article 73 of Uzbekistan’s Criminal Code have said their freedom of movement has been restricted, that they were under surveillance, and that they have been required to report periodically to police for ‘preventative conversations’.
Muhammad Bekjanov, one of the world’s longest imprisoned journalists until his release in February 2017, was unable to travel outside of his home region of Khorezm in northwestern Uzbekistan for a whole year. He has since left Uzbekistan to reunite with his family in the US. But he said that the authorities have not provided him any legal avenues to challenge his conviction, nor to recover property that was confiscated after his arrest and kidnapping from Ukraine in 1999.
Human rights defender Agzam Turgunov and independent journalist Bobomurod Abdullaev, both former political prisoners, said that since their releases security services and police have subjected them to surveillance and even intimidation. Turgunov has been detained and fined multiple times since his release—on one occasion in August 2018 for using his phone to record a peaceful protest in front of the Supreme Court and again in 2019. Abdullaev was detained by security services in September 2017 and tortured while in pre-trial detention on charges of attempting to overthrow the government. In May 2018, following a trial attended by the author he was conditionally released and fined. While Abdullaev’s trial set precedent for its degree of openness and transparency, authorities have never followed up with an investigation into Abdullaev’s credible allegations of torture.
Azam Farmonov, a human rights activist, whose 14-and-a-half-year sentence was shortened upon his release in October 2017, said that he still is required to pay a monthly portion of his salary to the government as part of his conditional release, and that it is extremely difficult to get the medical care payment that is supposed to be provided by the government for former prisoners. “Obtaining the monetary stipend provided by the government for medical is so difficult, I simply gave up,” Farmonov told me.
Female Prisoners Released Also Face Stigma, Difficulties
Unfortunately, the enormous legal, psychological, physical, and financial hardships suffered by Uzbekistan’s former political prisoners are not limited to men. Several female former prisoners with whom I have met have described lives after release in which they feel invisible, marginalised, and even less able to access justice for the ordeals they have endured. In June 2018, I met Dilorom Abdukodirova at her home in Andijan. Abdukodirova had been given an 18-year sentence in 2010 after traveling back to Uzbekistan to reunite with her children. Five years earlier, she had fled the country after being an eyewitness to the brutal Andijan massacre, when Uzbek government troops shot and killed hundreds of largely unarmed protestors near the city’s central square. Abdukodirova served out her sentence in Uzbekistan’s single women’s prison in Zangiota in the Tashkent region. Abdukodirova developed severe leg and hip pain while in prison. She could not even sit down for more than a few minutes due to the pain when I interviewed her family in her home. Abdukodirova deserves justice, support, and financial compensation for her wrongful imprisonment far from her family. Social support structures and medical, psychosocial services she and other former prisoners need are largely non-existent and should be established without delay.
Early Successes
Despite the many barriers to achieving justice and accountability, there have been some early, important legal victories on the road to rehabilitation in Uzbekistan.
Article 83 Provides ‘Grounds for Rehabilitation’
Chuyan Mamatkulov, a human rights defender based in the southern Uzbek city of Qarshi, has the impressive distinction of being the only person who has ever attempted to sue Islam Karimov in court. In response to this and many years defending ordinary citizens in court as a human rights defender, police and security services planted drugs on Mamatkulov during an arrest in 2012, ultimately sentencing him to 12 years imprisonment. Like several others mentioned here, Mamatkulov spent time in Jaslyk, where he was severely tortured. He was released in March 2018.[11]
Asked how he assesses Uzbekistan’s tentative reforms over the past four years, Mamatkulov says they have been life-changing for him and his family.[12] Still, those years the repressive state stole from him, separating him from his wife and two daughters are years he can never get back. Undaunted, however, Mamatkulov has resumed his human rights work and has doggedly pursued his own rehabilitation in the courts.
Setting a precedent for Uzbekistan, the Supreme Court granted Mamatkulov a new trial in December 2018—the first case of a former political prisoner winning the right to a new trial. The more important victory came in March 2020, when a Qarshi appellate court fully acquitted Mamatkulov of all charges and awarded him nominal monetary compensation.[13] The ruling established that evidence in Mamatkulov’s case, including false statements by police officers and testimony falsely coerced from witnesses, were fabricated. Thus, the court ruled that no evidence supported the commission of a crime.
Applying Article 83 of Uzbekistan’s Criminal Procedure Code (‘Grounds for Rehabilitation’), Mamatkulov’s case provides a potential roadmap in future cases. Article 83 states:
A suspect, accused, or defendant shall be acquitted and rehabilitated if, among others: the occurrence of the offense on which the case has been brought, or the investigation and trial were conducted, is absent; the constituent elements of an offense in the act do not exist; or the individual did not commit the crime.[14]
Based on a full acquittal, Mamatkulov is now seeking full compensation in a civil case. His case shows that Uzbek law already provides the basis for rehabilitating individuals imprisoned on false, arbitrary, or politically motivated grounds. This practice could be streamlined and applied, through a transitional justice mechanism or commission, to a larger group of former political prisoners.
Former political prisoner and human rights defender Chuyan Mamatkulov was released from prison in March 2018 following six years imprisonment on trumped-up charges in retaliation for his human rights work. He is the first former political prisoner to not only win a new trial but be fully rehabilitated and have his underlying criminal conviction overturned in the courts in accordance with Uzbekistan’s Criminal Procedure Code (Art. 83) in March 2020. © Steve Swerdlow, Qarshi, November 2018.
Acquittal on ‘Spy’ Charges Provides Hope
Another case that provides a ray of hope is Andrei Kubatin, a Turkic languages scholar who was imprisoned for espionage in 2017 under Article 157 (high treason).[15] Article 157 has been repeatedly used on political grounds to prosecute and imprison dozens, possibly hundreds, of individuals, including former government officials, UN staff, scholars, military personnel, journalists, and others for espionage allegedly carried out in the service of a rotating cast of countries (US, UK, Russia, Turkey, Tajikistan, and beyond). Disturbingly, a significant number of individuals have been arrested on Article 157 charges since 2016, tried in closed trials, and subjected to torture or ill-treatment.[16]
Fearless activism by his sister Klara Sakhareva led authorities and a Tashkent court to agree to review his conviction, first reducing his sentence and in September 2019 exonerating Kubatin on all charges.
Following the acquittal, Alice Wells, then Acting US Principle Assistant Secretary of State for South and Central Asia and Washington’s top diplomat for Central Asia, tweeted: “The release of scholar Andrej #Kubatin from prison is a welcome development. I encourage the Government of #Uzbekistan to continue a thorough review of previous convictions under #Article157. AGW”.[17] Unfortunately, the Uzbek government has not yet heeded this advice. Relatives of the many other Article 157 prisoners still behind bars are fighting for their relatives’ release and eventual acquittal.[18]
While not direct action on rehabilitation, authorities sparked hope in March with the registration—after three attempts—of a local rights group, Huquqi Tayanch (‘Legal Support’), the first independent human rights non-governmental organisation (NGO) registered in Uzbekistan since 2002. Huquqi Tayanch, established by former political prisoners Azam Farmonov and Dilmurod Saidov, has set rehabilitation and social reintegration for former political prisoners and torture victims as one of its key activities.[19] Unfortunately, the registration of a single critical independent NGO has been the exception and not the rule in Mirziyoyev’s Uzbekistan. Numerous NGOs like the Bukhara-based Humanitarian Legal Center and the forced labour monitoring group Chiroq, based in Karakalpakstan, have been denied registration on spurious grounds by the Justice Ministry despite the government’s much touted commitment to promote the role of civil society. Change in this area is long overdue.
Transitional Justice and Andijan
Any discussion about transitional justice in Uzbekistan would be incomplete without consideration of the most collective trauma in the country’s recent history and the defining event of Islam Karimov’s 27-year rule: the Andijan massacre.
On May 13th, 2005, government forces opened fire on thousands of mostly peaceful protesters in the central square in the town of Andijan, a city in the Fergana Valley in eastern Uzbekistan. The protesters had gathered to speak out against poverty, unemployment, and government repression, and to call on the government to respond to their plight.
Earlier on the day of the protest, armed men had freed 23 local businessmen who had been sentenced for ‘religious extremism’, and took over local government buildings. As the thousands of protesters gathered, government forces in armored vehicles (APCs) and snipers fired without warning and indiscriminately on the crowd of civilians, blocking off the square as people attempted to flee, killing hundreds. Although a small group of gunmen were on the square, the overwhelming majority of demonstrators were unarmed. Government troops then moved through the square and executed wounded people where they lay.
Government agents made no apparent effort to limit the use of lethal force to situations where it was strictly unavoidable to protect lives, as required by international law. The United Nations and other intergovernmental organisations found that the government had used lethal force excessively.
Following the massacre, the Uzbek government rejected all efforts to allow an independent inquiry and sought to rewrite the history of that day, unleashing a ferocious crackdown against any attempts to expose the truth about the brutal killings or seek accountability. Although eyewitness accounts and other evidence point to more than 700 killed, Uzbek authorities claimed only 187 were killed and blamed Islamists and unnamed Western powers for planning a coup. In the following months, hundreds were sentenced to up to 22 years in jail during trials critics called government-orchestrated and anyone suspected of having participated in the events or witnessing them was targeted for persecution.
Karimov’s fierce rejection of calls for independent investigation into the massacre led the US and European Union (EU) to strengthen sanctions on Uzbekistan for several years, setting in motion the en masse expulsion of international NGOs from the country and a deep period of political and economic isolation for millions of ordinary Uzbeks. Only with Karimov’s death in August 2016 has Uzbekistan begun to slowly emerge from the stagnation and deep climate of fear that resulted from Andijan.
Truth-telling and public discussion about the Andijan massacre are deeply important 15 years after the events. In public remarks delivered during his May 2017 historic visit to Tashkent the then UN High Commissioner for Human Rights Zeid Ra'ad Al Hussein also underlined the importance of ensuring accountability for the ‘terrible events’ in Andijan that day. “While it is important to look forward, it is also important to come to terms with past events and ensure that victims are not forgotten and their grievances are addressed,” he said.[20]
There was a slight shift in the official tone earlier this year when Deputy Prosecutor General Svetlana Artykova gave an interview to a local outlet, Qalampir.uz, in which she appeared to concede that excessive force was deployed.[21] The remarks made by Artykova, who was the spokeswoman for the prosecutor’s office in May 2005, could only have been made with approval from above.
When asked if weapons were used by government forces against civilians, Artykova answered that there had been no clear coordination between troops and the national leadership and that this was why “a certain number of citizens died during the rally.”
Some officials found responsible for unlawful killing were convicted and some were already out of prison, Artykova claimed. This was the first time any Uzbek official has alleged that any officials were imprisoned for their involvement in the Andijan events. Last month, following the gruesome death by torture of Andijan businessman Alijon Abdukarimov, Uzbek MP Gulrukh Agzamova from the Adolat (Justice) party also referenced the Andijan events when condemning the actions of the Internal Affairs officers who committed torture.[22]
These allusions to Andijan are from an official inquiry but may signal a readiness on the part of officials to revisit the Andijan massacre’s painful history. Beyond the importance of providing justice and accountability to the victims and their families, an impartial, independent investigation and truth commission are necessary to establish an accurate historical record and could contribute to national healing and cohesion. Understanding the tragedy of Andijan in an open, accessible format is essential for helping Uzbekistan make a transition to a more open and democratic society.
A Roadmap for Action: Recommendations
Rehabilitation and transitional justice are fundamental to the overall success of the reform agenda that President Mirziyoyev has repeatedly made the centerpiece of his government over the past four years. This is because at its core transitional justice is a commitment to recognise the dignity of individuals, to establish respect for the rule of law by delivering redress and acknowledgment of human rights abuses, and to prevent them from happening again.
President Mirziyoyev and the Uzbek government should acknowledge past abuses officially, provide concrete avenues for redress, and send a clear message that peaceful criticism of government policies and scrutiny of the past will be genuinely valued in Uzbekistan. Transitional justice and rehabilitation policies should place the involvement of torture survivors, rights defenders, and independent civil society at the center and also closely include Parliament (Oliy Majlis), the Ombudsman for Human Rights, the National Center for Human Rights, law enforcement structures, the Justice Ministry and international human rights experts.
Former political prisoners recommend that Uzbek authorities should establish a special commission consisting of government officials, representatives of non-governmental groups, and international experts to address the rehabilitation needs of former political prisoners, examine cases of people still in prison on politically motivated charges, and make recommendations to appropriate government agencies. It is high time to heed their calls and provide them with the comprehensive rehabilitation that is their right under Uzbek and international law. As described by legal scholar Diane Shelton, rehabilitation in Uzbekistan should “achieve maximum physical and psychological fitness by addressing the individual, the family, local community and even the society as a whole” and encompass former political prisoners, torture survivors, and “all victims of serious abuse.”[23]
Article 83 of Uzbekistan’s Criminal Procedure Code and the cases of Chuyan Mamatkulov and Andrei Kubatin provide a tentative blueprint that Uzbek courts could apply in many cases across the board. Parliament should also consider adopting a separate Law on Rehabilitation. A fuller examination of what this rehabilitation law would include, the timeframe and types of victims it would cover, and comparative international practice will be the subject of a separate scholarly article.
The government should also amend vague and overbroad criminal code provisions relating to espionage and extremism that are commonly used to criminalise dissent – articles 157, 159, 216, 244-1, and 244-2 of the Criminal Code – and bring them into compliance with Uzbekistan’s international human rights obligations.
Tashkent should allow independent monitoring of Uzbekistan’s prisons and other places of detention with the aim of eradicating torture and other forms of ill-treatment and ratify the Optional Protocol to the Convention against Torture. The protocol creates a monitoring system and requires that independent entities responsible for such monitoring be able to enter detention facilities at any time, unannounced. In 2013, the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) halted its monitoring of Uzbekistan’s prison facilities, citing interference by authorities.
Transitional justice in Uzbekistan will only succeed by enabling independent civil society to take a more active role in advocating and implementing change. This means the Justice Ministry should remove immediately the many bureaucratic hurdles that have prevented many human rights, media, and other critically important NGOs from registering and the regulations that have restricted the activities and operations of local NGOs working on politically-sensitive issues such as torture.
Steve Swerdlow is a human rights lawyer and expert on human rights issues in the former Soviet Region. Between 2010 and 2019, Swerdlow was Senior Central Asia researcher in the Europe and Central Asia division of Human Rights Watch (HRW). An attorney with two decades of scholarly and human rights experience researching and advocating on the post-Soviet region, Swerdlow headed HRW’s work on Uzbekistan and Tajikistan, was the founding director of HRW’s Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan field office, and has been among the first independent human rights workers to conduct extensive fieldwork on the ground inside Uzbekistan since the Uzbek government’s decision to allow human rights organisations back into the country in 2017. He now is a consultant with the UN Development Programme and the International Labour Organisation, where he conducts trainings to build the capacity of human rights activists and journalists in Central Asia. Earlier Swerdlow was a fellow in the US State Department’s Young Leaders for Public Service program in Russia and worked as a human rights monitor for the Union of Council for Soviet Jews and the International Organisation for Migration in Russia. Prior to joining HRW, Swerdlow practiced law in San Francisco at Lieff Cabraser Heimann & Bernstein, LLP, and served as a law clerk to the Honorable Judge Dean Pregerson of the US District Court for the Central District of California; Photo: Formerly imprisoned human rights defender from Andijan Isroiljon Kholdarov meets formerly imprisoned human rights defender Ganikhon Mamatkhanov from Margilan in Andijan in June 2018 following each’s recent release from prison. Each had thought the other might have died while in prison.
Photo © Steve Swerdlow, Andijan, June 2018.
[1] Government officials have reported that prison authorities have also released hundreds of independent Muslims – people who practice Islam outside of strict state controls – who had been imprisoned on extremism charges for lengthy jail terms. However, it is impossible to independently confirm claims about those releases or interview any of them without access to a list of people serving these sentences. The authorities should make available a list of all persons currently serving sentences for extremism-related charges.
[2] Amnesty International, Blogging in Uzbekistan: welcoming tourism, silencing criticism, June 2020 https://www.amnesty.org/en/latest/campaigns/2020/06/blogging-in-uzbekistan-welcoming-tourism-silencing-criticism/
[3] UN Basic Principles and Guidelines on the Right to a Remedy and Reparation for Victims of Gross Violations of International Human Rights Law and Serious Violations of International Humanitarian Law, Preamble, adopted by the UN Commission on Human Rights in 2005, UN Doc. E/CN.4/RES/2005/35 and adopted by the General Assembly on 16 December 2005, UN Doc. A/RES/60/147.
[4] The Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court (ICC) contains an implicit reference to the principles in Article 75; they are also explicitly mentioned in the International Convention on the Protection of All Persons from Enforced Disappearance, Article 24 (adopted December 20th 2006, entered into force December 23rd 2010); For example, the truth commissions in South Africa and Sierra Leone, as underlined by Yasmin Sooka, former Commissioner in the South African and Sierra Leone TRCs during ‘Workshop to Combat Impunity and Provide Reparations’ at OHCHR Geneva on September 19th 2005. See also Shelton, Dinah. 2005. Remedies in International Human Rights Law. Oxford: Oxford University Press. p. 350.
[5] Nowak, Manfred and McArthur, Elizabeth. 2008. The United Nations Convention against Torture, A Commentary. Oxford: Oxford University Press. p. 483.
[6] UN Basic Principles and Guidelines on the Right to a Remedy and Reparation for Victims of Gross Violations of International Human Rights Law and Serious Violations of International Humanitarian Law, Preamble, adopted by the UN Commission on Human Rights in 2005, UN Doc. E/CN.4/RES/2005/35 and adopted by the General Assembly on December 16th 2005, UN Doc. A/RES/60/147.
[7] Shelton, Dinah. Remedies in International Human Rights. Oxford: Oxford University Press. p. 275.
[8] UN Committee against Torture, Committee against Torture, Concluding observations on the fifth periodic report of Uzbekistan, https://tbinternet.ohchr.org/Treaties/CAT/Shared%20Documents/UZB/CAT_C_UZB_CO_5_39781_E.pdf
[9] US State Department, Country Reports on Human Rights Practices, 2007, https://2009-2017.state.gov/j/drl/rls/hrrpt/2007//index.htm
[10] Musaeva v. Uzbekistan, Communications Nos. 1914, 1915 and 1916/2009, UN International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, June 2012, http://www.worldcourts.com/hrc/eng/decisions/2012.03.21_Musaeva_v_Uzbekistan.pdf
[11] Steve Swerdlow and Andrew Stroehlein, Beyond Samarkand, Los Angeles Review of Books, March 2019, https://lareviewofbooks.org/article/beyond-samarkand/
[12] Interview with Chuyan Mamatkulov, Qarshi, November 2018; Telephone interview on March 22nd, 2020.
[13] Radio Ozodlik, Суд в Кашкадарье полностью оправдал экс-политзаключенного Чуяна Маматкулова, March 2020, https://rus.ozodlik.mobi/a/30496604.html?withmediaplayer=1; Gazeta.uz, “Правозащитник Чуян Маматкулов полностью оправдан,” March 2020, https://www.gazeta.uz/ru/2020/03/20/mamatkulov/?utm_source=push&utm_medium=telegram
[14] Article 83, Uzbekistan’s Code of Criminal Procedure, https://www.legislationline.org/documents/action/popup/id/8932
[15] Agnieszka Pikulicka-Wilczewska, Why is a Turkic languages scholar imprisoned in Uzbekistan?, Al Jazeera, August 2019, https://www.aljazeera.com/indepth/features/turkic-languages-scholar-imprisoned-uzbekistan-190801120104671.html
[16] Current Article 157 prisoners include former Uzbek diplomat Kadyr Yusupov, analyst journalist Vladimir Kaloshin, current or former soldiers Ravshan Kosimov, Alisher Achildiev, Viktor Shin, former policewoman Alyona Kim, and the former director of the presidential Institute for Strategic and Interregional Research, Rafik Saifulin.
[17] See Tweet by Alice G. Wells, Acting Principal Assistant Secretary of State for South and Central Asia, September 27th, 2019, https://twitter.com/State_SCA/status/1177630285644607491
[18] A recently recorded podcast on Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty’s Majlis Podcast tells the stories of many of these cases and includes a discussion with the relatives of imprisoned journalist Vladimir Kaloshin and former diplomat Kadyr Yusupov. See RFE/RL, Majlis Podcast: Spy Games In Uzbekistan, June 2020, https://www.rferl.org/a/majlis-podcast-spies-in-uzbekistan/30670139.html
[19] See Eurasianet, Uzbekistan sparks hope with registration of NGOs, March 2020, https://eurasianet.org/uzbekistan-sparks-hope-with-registration-of-ngos
[20] OHCHR, Opening remarks by UN High Commissioner for Human Rights Zeid Ra’ad Al Hussein at a press conference during his mission to Uzbekistan, Tashkent, May 2017, https://www.ohchr.org/EN/NewsEvents/Pages/DisplayNews.aspx?NewsID=21607&LangID=E
[21] See Qalampir.uz, Andijon voqealarida tinch aholiga o'q uzilganmi? Svetlana Ortiqova bilan suhbat, February 2020, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-mmRknUZMqo&; See also Bruce Pannier, ‘We Made Mistakes’: In Uzbekistan, A Rare Admission Over Andijon Killings, RFE/RL, February 2020, https://www.rferl.org/a/uzbekistan-andijon-assacre-officials-willingness-talk-analysis/30442215.html
[22] See Gulrukh Agzamova, Ichhki Ishlar – ichichimizdagi ishkalmi yoxud xiyonat?, Adolat, June 2020, http://adolat.uz/partiya/ichki-ishlar-ichimizdagi-ishkalmi-yohud-xiyonat
[23] Shelton, Dinah. 2005. Remedies in International Human Rights. Oxford: Oxford University Press. p. 275.
[post_title] => Rehabilitation here and now: Pursuing transitional justice in Uzbekistan
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[post_content] => Over the past 15 years, more than 600 civil society activists have been subjected to politically motivated persecution in Uzbekistan.[1] At least half of these have been tortured and imprisoned, and a significant number have fled the country. In total, just ten of the activists outlined in this essay maintain a presence in their native country.
Their capacity to defend the principles of human rights, seek accountability from authorities and demand answers from the government are guaranteed, de jure, by Uzbekistan’s Constitution. In reality, countless hurdles exist to prohibit third sector organisations from conducting their activities, while in parallel checks still exist on journalists. Countless amendments in the law, make de facto exercise of the rights to free speech a dangerous pursuit. In spite of the proven risk to physical safety, new activists continue to emerge regularly. This trend is not, and must not, be mistaken for the emergence of a pluralistic society in the aftermath of Karimov’s dictatorship, or of a will to tolerate greater freedom of expression, listen to criticism or tolerate accountable governance in the Uzbekistan of today. Uzbekistan still has some of the same problems that the country’s people have experienced for more than three decades. The experiences of torture, enforced disappearance, extrajudicial killing and forced labour exist in Uzbekistan today.
My human rights work began during my emigration from Uzbekistan in 2000. My first acquaintance with Uzbek human rights activists took place through the internet, because many of them were not allowed to leave Uzbekistan for years. For some time we could communicate only through e-mail, and a forum on the website ‘Fergana.Ru’. There were no social networks at that time, and the speed of the internet did not allow communication via Skype, or similar mediums, as it would today. When, in 2000, I learned from human rights activist Agzam Turgunov about the fate of the former Mayor of the city of Mubarek and member of the first Parliament of Uzbekistan, Murad Juraev, my work as a human rights activist became the life calling which I continue to pursue today.
Juraev was accused of preparing acts of terrorism in Turkey and attacking the constitutional system. Juraev had not committed these crimes. His true reason for imprisonment was for supporting leaders of the political opposition, and openly criticising dictator Islam Karimov’s regime for the massacre of students in University City.[2] Juraev had also criticised subjects that have been proven true since he first drew attacks from the regime for speaking about them. One topic that became a particularly pervasive criticism of Karimov’s regime was the use of child labour in cotton fields and for the practice of political repression. Juraev was one of the first activists to speak of Uzbekistan’s use of forced labour. He is not, nor will be, the first to experience torture. Juraev stood for the duration of that first court hearing because he could not sit down due to burns all over his body.
The prosecution was unable to produce evidence for the charges, but nevertheless, he was sentenced to 12 years in prison. Juraev’s story shocked me, and I began to openly support him and help his family during their ordeal. Juraev spent 21 years in prison - five consecutive terms, in one of which he was given a four-year prison sentence because he was cleaning carrots incorrectly in the prison kitchen. With the active participation of international human rights organisations, including the European and American diplomatic community, Juraev was released in November 2015 - when Islam Karimov was still alive.
Fortwoyears after release,Juraevsoughttherighttogoabroadforurgent medical care,buthewasnotremovedfromtheregime’s prisoner supervision schemeand was prevented from leaving Uzbekistan.Weoftencalled each other,andcorresponded regularly.WewerebothwaitingtomeetinGermany,wherehewas expected by doctorsfor hissurgery.InDecember2017,Juraevdiedofaheartattackinthearmsof his wifeHolbikaJuraeva,who throughoutall their yearsofmarriagebelieved inhimandtreatedhimwithgreatrespect.
Abror Juraev, Murad Juraev's son, was fired from his job three years ago and when he asked for the reason for termination his boss replied: "You are the son of an enemy of the people." Mirziyoyev has been presented to Western actors as a modern reformer. Yet, the use of a Stalinist term to dismiss a man from his job on basis of his father’s opposition, sets in sharp relief how human rights in Uzbekistan operate contrary to the laws of physics and international development. The reason for the dismissal of Abror Juraev due to the fact that he is the son of Murad Juraev, which suggests that the practice of "black lists" in Uzbekistan continues under Shavkat Mirziyoyev. And since such lists are compiled within the walls of the State Security Service of Uzbekistan (SGB), it indicates that the Uzbek special services are not yet ready to uproot the legacy of the Stalin NKVD. So while civil rights organisations across the world continue to discuss how the path of human rights can be shaped and improved, Uzbekistan uses terms for dissent coined during the Russian Civil War, and methods of interrogation believed effective by medieval societies.
Mirziyoyev did not respond to Murad Juraev's appeals about the need to reform Uzbekistan's administrative system. Mirziyoyev ignored his son’s, Abror Juraev's, request for justice in the case of losing employment, too. But, lest this appear to be an isolated incident, I wish to make clear that countless human rights organisations concur on the prevalence of such practices in Uzbekistan, for all who express dissent. The personal examples I give hereafter are chosen because they provide important and specific testimony. But they are neither unique, nor isolated.
Agzam Turgunov was tried three times because he supported the People's Movement of Uzbekistan (‘Birlik’) and voted in Uzbekistan’s first presidential elections for Muhammad Salih, the alternative candidate. Salih is a dissident poet and leader of the opposition ERK party. He has been in exile for 30 years and in Uzbekistan has seven criminal cases open against him. All those who communicated with him at some point (even on social networks, and to this author’s knowledge) were subjected to torture for their exchanges. Such attacks continue to occur under the presidency of Mirziyoyev. Akrom Malikov and Rustam Abdumannopov, both social media activists, were imprisoned, because they openly sympathised with Salih and kept his poems at home.
After the first eight years of our cooperation, Agzam Turgunov found himself on the list of imprisoned civil society activists. He spent almost ten years in prison, from 2008 to 2017. During one of his first interrogations, the investigator poured boiling water on him for refusing to sign the indictment. This, and other forms of torture, were inflicted upon Turgunov repeatedly. Members of the United Nations (UN) Committee on Torture recognised human rights defender Akzam Turgunov as a victim of torture and called on the Uzbek government to reconsider the sentence against him, but the Supreme Court upheld the verdict of the first instance, ignoring Turunov's allegations of torture.
The first list of imprisoned Uzbek civil society activists was drawn up in November 2006, just days after the official registration of the Association for Human Rights in Central Asia, which we founded together with the poet Jodgor Obid, who lives in Austria and became the first Uzbek refugee who fled the regime of Islam Karimov.[3] I handed this list to Pierre Morel, the European Union's (EU’s) then Special Rapporteur on Central Asia.[4] Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch also sent Morel their lists. Our consolidated lists then formed the basis of two resolutions before the European Parliament on Uzbekistan in 2009 and 2014.[5] As an experienced French diplomat Morel actively raised the issue of the list of political prisoners in negotiations with Uzbek diplomats and has long been interested in the results of human rights monitoring in Uzbekistan, prepared by participants of our volunteer network in Uzbekistan. As far as I know, some 30 Uzbek prisoners were released with his active participation.
During our meeting with him in 2006, he said at the time that Uzbek political emigrants could become an effective lever of pressure on the dictatorship of Karimov, because we are safe and finally we can openly raise issues that are extremely dangerous to talk about inside Uzbekistan. Indeed, our organisation always raises issues that are extremely sensitive for the Uzbek regime. Ambassador Morel was also one of the initiators of the lifting of EU sanctions against Uzbekistan, imposed in October 2005 after Uzbekistan refused to allow an international independent investigation into the Andijan events (the mass shooting in May 2005). And then he helped to start a dialogue on human rights between the EU and the government of Uzbekistan.
In 2011, it was reported that the European Commission had secretly awarded a grant of 3,700,000 euros to the Republic Center for Social Adaptation of Children, headed by Islam Karimov's youngest daughter, Lola Karimova.[6] This fact caused great public outcry and became the basis for growing distrust in Morel, who began to defend the decision of the European Commission in favour of Lola Karimova. Morel’s visits to Uzbekistan became more frequent. He met with Islam Karimov, declaring this an achievement of a new level of dialogue on human rights. In the meantime, the arrests of civil society activists continued. Some political opposition activists and human rights activists have yet to emerge from hiding.
After the death of Karimov, thanks to external pressure via diplomatic channels, the process of releasing all civil society activists sentenced to imprisonment under the rule of Karimov was completed in 2018. In the past two years alone, Uzbekistan has adopted more than 2,000 new laws. Only three deal with the prevention of torture. Moreover, finally Uzbekistan began a process of discussion on the UN Human Rights Charter violation brought via clandestine forced labour initiatives which forced the people of Uzbekistan to harvest cotton.
Uzbekistan has now been visited by UN missions, EU delegations, the United States (US) and most international human rights organisations. These facts, at least on paper, imply that Uzbekistan has a strong regard for reform, and harmonisation of local law with international norms and treaty obligations. On paper, diplomats can be forgiven for believing that Uzbekistan is moving away from the horrific violations of human rights committed under Karimov, and beginning a tentative national discussion about setting right the past.
Yet after 13 years as Karimov’s Prime Minister, any informed party would have serious reservations about Shavkat Mirziyoyev’s commitment to changing the systemic practices of torture and imprisonment for which he was not only a passive observer, but one of the system’s leading figures. After three years in the Presidency, has the situation of civil society activists released from detention materially changed? Do independent activists enjoy freedom of expression, without fear of oppression? Have the new laws led to the development of fundamental rights and freedoms, or do they simply serve as a paper tiger to placate international actors critical of the President?
Looking through the pages of new online publications in Uzbekistan, I have not found a single article about human rights defender Agzam Turgunov. Nor have I heard mention of former Member of Parliament (MP) Samandar Kukonov. In fact, there is no mention of the cases I describe, in any single article, from Uzbekistan’s purportedly pluralist media – now believed by international observers to be free from self-censorship. So far only human rights defender Chuyan Mamatkulov from the Kashkadarya region was able to receive rehabilitation, others were refused.
There was no possibility of registration for the opposition parties Birlik or Erk. Both their leaders remain in exile. Agzam Turgunov made his fifth attempt to register his organisation ‘Human Rights House’, he had been already refused four times on formal grounds. One such ground, was that he was told that he had not correctly bound documents submitted. The documents had been bound correctly. Upon his raising of this matter, a written response was issued prohibiting the organisation’s creation, as the necessary fee had not been paid for the formation. The Ministry of Justice informed him that they will tell him when to pay the fee.
Is there an opportunity for political emigrants to return home? No, because the reform of the passport system allows all political dissidents to be stripped of their citizenship and the formal basis is that a citizen living abroad is obliged to register with the Embassy of Uzbekistan. This rule also applies to persons who have refugee status, which goes against a condition of the country providing international protection not to contact the state departments of Uzbekistan.
In addition, the practice of in absentia sentencing of critics of the regime, on the basis of which the property of political emigrants is confiscated and sold through an auction at symbolic value, has begun to develop. This process has become a source of corruption and illegal income for officials from investigative bodies, courts and court bailiff departments. As the analysis of the situation shows, criticism is still perceived by officials in Uzbekistan as a particularly serious crime and this practice began at the time when the Ministry of Internal Affairs of Uzbekistan was headed by Zakirjon Almatov. On his orders government forces used disproportionate and indiscriminate force during the Andijan events in May 2005, and as a result hundreds of civilians were killed and thousands fled the country. Almatov is one of 12 senior officials who were on the European sanctions lists introduced in 2005.
With Mirziyoyev's rise to power, Almatov returned to the Uzbek Interior Ministry as an adviser to the Interior Minister and at the same time as a member of the Uzbek parliament. Isn't it strange that Zakirjon Lamatov and Rustam Inoyatov - the former chairman of the National Security Service, who both coordinated political crackdowns on dissidents and the ruin of successful businessmen, retained their presence in the entourage of President Mirziyoyev?
I didn't initially believe in Shavkat Mirziyoyev's reforms, but for a while I cautiously waited for some change for the better. However, I later received a draft resolution of the US Congress on Uzbekistan, developed by American lobbyists under a contract with the Public Fund for Support and Development of National Mass Media established by Shavkat Mirziyoyev's eldest daughter, Saida Mirziyoyeva, which pays lobbyists, including congressmen Kelly and Gonzales, $30,000 a month.[7] Do the bloggers and journalists working with and helping to run the Public Fund think this is the most effective use of Uzbekistan’s public money?
When it was officially announced that Islam Karimov had passed away, a Euronews correspondent asked me: what would you like to say on the occasion of the death of the first president of Uzbekistan? [8] I said, "I am very sorry that dictator Islam Karimov escaped the Hague Tribunal and the same criminals like him came to power, depriving citizens of the right to democratic elections." I am sure that real reforms can begin in Uzbekistan if the real investigations into crimes of Islam Karimov and the heads of law enforcement agencies under his direct control begin. So far there are no conditions for democratic presidential elections, as the majority of votes, like before, are provided by Khokims (heads of administrations). This process can begin only when human rights defenders and journalists will be able to carry out their activities legally, and this can be achieved with the active participation of democratic forces.
How can the West affect the development of positive changes in Uzbekistan? I am sure that only an adequate response is needed to the events in Uzbekistan and the actions of the Mirziyoyev government. It is necessary to completely get rid of flirting and the distribution of advances to those now in power, if the countries of the democratic community are interested in democratising Uzbekistan.
Are the EU and the US ready to build a foreign policy towards Uzbekistan in such a way to make the Mirziyoyev’s government be interested in introducing a national effective mechanism to fulfil its international obligations, to provide conditions for independent monitoring of human rights, without any restrictions on the activities of independent human rights defenders and international human rights organisations?
As a matter of urgency, it is important to strengthen the measures of responsibility the Uzbek authorities take for human rights violations, starting with monitoring the implementation of the recommendations of the UN Executive Committees on the payment of compensation to victims of torture and other citizens who are recognised by international experts as victims of human rights violations.
At the same time, it is important to strengthen the protection of human rights defenders who operate in particularly dangerous conditions, sometimes even life-threatening, and even though they are subjected to widespread discrimination, none of them have permanent medical or legal insurance, and the authorities continue to use provocations against rights defenders, threaten them with reprisals and restrict their human rights activities.
The government of Uzbekistan has been and remains interested in developing relations with democratic countries, and if the condition for the development of such cooperation will be the fulfilment of already adopted laws and ratified international conventions, then this will also create conditions for democratic elections.
Nadejda Atayeva is an Uzbek citizen living in France, where she has refugee status. Since 2006 she has been the President of the Association for Human Rights in Central Asia. For details about some of the cases raised in this essay please visit https://ahrca.org/uzbekistan.
[1] Since 2004 we have kept a database of all activists working in the country. There were 600. Over the years, some have died, some were tortured and stopped their work, some were imprisoned, released and stopped working, and some immigrated. In accordance with our data only ten currently remain in the country and are still active. This is based on count of activists from 2004 through to 2018 who were subject to political repression.
[2] John Iams, Student Protest Police Shootings in Uzbekistan, AP News, January 1992, https://apnews.com/da89dfe56538f77672959ab1567c331f
[3] Yodgor Obid, Biography, Wikipedia, https://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yodgor_Obid
[4] Pierre Morel biography, Wikipedia, https://ru.wikipedia.org/wiki/%D0%9C%D0%BE%D1%80%D0%B5%D0%BB%D1%8C,_%D0%9F%D1%8C%D0%B5%D1%80_(%D0%B4%D0%B8%D0%BF%D0%BB%D0%BE%D0%BC%D0%B0%D1%82)
[5] European Parliament, Joing motion for a resolution on human rights in Uzbekistan (2014/2904(RSP)), October 2014, http://www.europarl.europa.eu/sides/getDoc.do?pubRef=-//EP//TEXT+MOTION+P8-RC-2014-0166+0+DOC+XML+V0//EN
[6] Nadejda Atayeva, The European Union has allocated a grant of 3,7 million Euro to an organisation controlled by the daughter of Uzbek dictator, Nadejda Atayeva Blogpost, June 2011, http://nadejda-atayeva-en.blogspot.com/2011/06/european-union-has-allocated-grant-of.html; That’s how the Republic Center for Social Adaptation of Children was created - according to The Cabinet Resolution No. 419 of 7.09.2004.
[7] Foreign Lobby, Uzbekistan sells ‘change’ campaign with second PR hire in six months, June 2020, https://www.foreignlobby.com/2020/06/22/uzbekistan-sells-change-campaign-with-second-pr-hire-in-less-than-a-year/; For examples of the work done see: Bridgeway Advocacy, Creating a More open Society in Uzbekistan, NSD/FARA Registration Unit, March 2020, https://efile.fara.gov/docs/6799-Informational-Materials-20200318-1.pdf
[8] Euronews (in English), Putin expresses condolences after death of Uzbek President Karimov, YouTube, September 2016, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X5y0rhJQ7Vo&feature=emb_logo
[post_title] => Is President Shavkat Mirziyoyev a reformer or a follower of the Karimov dictatorship?
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[post_content] => The socio-political situation in Uzbekistan has been tense in recent years but now in many areas a crisis may be unfolding in the wake of the pandemic. As the economic tensions are reflected in the published figures, it can be seen that the country's external debt and levels of poverty are growing and an atmosphere of social control is on the rise. At the end of June this year, due to poverty, a group of young men robbed the houses of rich people in Kokand in the Fergana region, and in the Payarik district of Samarkand region, there was a mass theft of grain from a grain warehouse. Jamshid Kochkarov, the country's Deputy Prime Minister for poverty alleviation, will have a difficult financial year. This is a source of potential social protest, and the partial freedoms of speech granted by President Shavkat Mirziyoyev are likely sparks that could ignite a fire. President Mirziyoyev himself has stated his sadness at the gravity of the situation in the country, namely foreign debts, unemployment and the lack of reforms. The media has proclaimed that Uzbekistan has recently been promised potentially as much as $26 billion in foreign direct investment and financial support but there are fears that the amount of money actually delivered so far has not yet reached even a billion, as much of the pledged support came in the form of memorandums of understanding. In addition, despite the reform process, the country's position in international rankings is not significantly changing for the better.
External debt
According to the Central Bank, in 2019 the external debt of Uzbekistan amounted to $24.4 billion US dollars, of which $15.8 billion is public debt and $8.6 billion is private sector debt, equating to 42 per cent of Gross Domestic Product (GDP). According to the International Monetary Fund (IMF) before COVID-19 the prediction for the 2020 level of public debt in Uzbekistan was due to be 29.7 per cent of GDP but this now is predicted to rise to 34.5 per cent due to the impact of the pandemic.[1] Uzbekistan's Eurobonds account for one billion US dollars in public debt. The level of public debt has significantly increased since Karimov’s time, it was 7.5 per cent in 2015.[2] There are concerns about whether this extra money coming in to the economy is reaching those who need it most.
Unemployment
According to the Ministry of Labor, the number of unemployed in the country as of June 1st 2020 reached 2.6 million people. According to the State Statistics Committee of Uzbekistan, the number of working age people is 14.9 million.[3] The true unemployment rate in the country is very high, when considering that more than four million people had living abroad as cheap labour (so called ‘Gasterbaiters’), many of whom are now returning to Uzbekistan due to the downturn in the Russian and global economy. The loss of remittances will hit poorer and rural families particularly hard.
Pandemics and man-made disasters
Prolonged quarantine restrictions due to the coronavirus pandemic pose real challenges, potentially leading to a sharp increase in imports relative to exports. The impact on the services sector - aviation, railway, tourism, hotel chains, etc., is significant with job losses due to the almost complete cessation of activities. Problems may arise in financing the monthly expenses of employees working in state budget organisations. Also, enterprises operating in the above areas will need special support from the state. The near cessation of certain production during the pandemic means that demand is higher than supply for some products, with potential pressure on families who rely on them. The persistence of the economic downturn will increase the unemployment rate and lead to a sharp decline in the population’s ability to pay. As a result, there will be a decrease in revenues to the state budget, including tax payments, which will negatively affect the formation of the budget.
The Sardoba dam tragedy is the result of ignoring climate change, 100 years of bad governance, 30 years of water disputes, as well as the demands to achieve rapid political results, rather than science and open discussion according to Evgeny Simonov, the international coordinator of the Rivers without Boundaries coalition in a recent article on the Sardoba tragedy bluntly entitled "Dam construction in Uzbekistan was a long-awaited disaster".[4] Viktor Dukhovny, who led the construction of canals in the Syrdarya basin during the Soviet era, says his team found the area unsuitable for a water infrastructure. On May 1st, at 5:55 a.m., after five days of rain, the Sardoba Reservoir in the Syrdarya region collapsed, flooding surrounding cotton fields and villages. Officials say six people have been killed, 35,000 hectares of land in Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan flooded and at least 111,000 people displaced. If the long-term response in permanently rehousing these residents and rebuilding their communities is not handled well, particularly when it is no longer in the news, it will create the risk of social unrest amongst those who suffered in the flood.
Energy shortage
Uzbekistan annually produces about 60 billion cubic meters of gas and seven million tons of liquid hydrocarbons. Experts say these reserves should be enough to meet the demand of country’s population. However, corruption in this area and unsustainable export volumes are artificially creating energy shortages in the country. Also, one of the most important problems of the increasing population of Uzbekistan is the huge demand for electricity and oil products. Particularly in rural areas where there are shortages of gas, a low and erratic electricity supply and many houses without water supply from the mains. If economy suffers then those reliant on using expensive local generators for power and bottled water (or long trips to springs) will suffer even more.
Freedom of speech
Reporters Without Borders (RSF) has recently published the World Freedom of Expression Index for 2020.[5] According to it, Uzbekistan ranks 156th out of 180 countries surveyed. Uzbekistan, where freedom of speech is ‘complicated’, is in red on RSF’s world map. In red states, freedom of speech is considered very weak and unstable. On the plus side, Uzbekistan has previously always been ‘black’, reserved for the world’s worst abusers of freedom of expression, as in the past decades there has been no mention of freedom of speech as the state has struggled with the concept and has seen journalists, bloggers, and free information as its enemies. Over the next two to three years, Uzbekistan's rating has improved slightly, but has not changed dramatically. The problematic aspect of the situation is that freedom of speech in Uzbekistan is still not widespread and stable. That is why Uzbekistan is a ‘complex, troubled country about freedom of speech’. According to the ranking, neighboring Kyrgyzstan is in 82nd place, Afghanistan is 122nd, Pakistan is 145th. After Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan – 157th, Tajikistan – 161st, Turkmenistan – 179th.
In the coming years, the conflicts within Uzbekistan, the socio-economic crises will intensify. In particular, the situation with the coronavirus has added an additional cause. It is in these times of conflict that maintaining, nurturing and transforming free speech into a sustainable institution is a crucial task. In some institutions of the state, there is a growing tendency to restrict freedom of speech in order to maintain social stability in the wake of the pandemic. In the future, there will be many contradictions and tension, both temporary and fundamental, between freedom of speech and stability, between freedom of speech and bureaucracy, and between freedom of speech and systems of power. If the institution of freedom of speech continues to function, and freedom of speech is given priority in these conflicts, Uzbekistan will be able to significantly change its global position in a positive way in the next decade.
Torture and social control
Uzbekistan is still at the forefront of the fight against torture. Today, the main protest in Uzbekistan is against physical torture. However, there is little talk of psychological torture in Uzbekistan. In Uzbekistan, through the institutions of the mahallas, with the help of relatives and through social relations in society, there is a system of denial of human rights through psychological pressure, which use carries a subjugation much wider than only physical torture. The goal of combating all forms of torture is to ensure that a person feels free and at ease, and to keep the state within the legal framework. However, in the context of Uzbekistan, 99 per cent of the pressure used to ensure an authoritarian society and the rule of law is psychological pressure.
From these concerns set out above it can be concluded that Uzbekistan is at risk of a social explosion. If and when the powder keg explodes depends, in part, on what political steps the Uzbek government will take. 2021 is the year of the Presidential election, which in many ways means the government has to reckon with the public. But, unfortunately, this process is not transparent. At the request of President Mirziyoyev, Uzbekistan will join the Eurasian Economic Union by the end of this year. In this case, the country's economic independence will be cracked, and the conditions for political reform will depend on Russia. The country's integration into the world economy is also weakening. Currently, the situation with coronavirus in the country is very tense. It is believed the government is ‘hitting its own leg with an axe’ because of concerns amongst activists that some officials may not be being fully transparent about the mortality and morbidity statistics. If the Uzbek Government does not redouble its efforts to manage the crisis in an accountable way this will add to the risk of social unrest over the coming months.
This essay has been written by Uzbekistan based human rights experts who for safety reasons have requested to remain anonymous.
Photo by LBM1948, https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en
[1] IMF, Republic of Uzbekistan Requests for disbursement under the rapid credit facility and purchase under the rapid financing instrument, May 2020, https://www.imf.org/~/media/Files/Publications/CR/2020/English/1UZBEA2020002.ashx
[2] See General Government Debt World Bank Selected Indicators, http://pubdocs.worldbank.org/en/415991492021935119/data-uzb.pdf
[3] State Statistical Committee, Labour Market, https://stat.uz/uz/180-ofytsyalnaia-statystyka-uz/6555-mehnat-bozori Figure for working age population as of Q1 2019.
[4] Eugene Simonov, Uzbekistan dam collapse was a disaster waiting to happen, The Third Pole.net, June 2020, https://www.thethirdpole.net/2020/06/23/uzbekistan-dam-collapse-was-a-disaster-waiting-to-happen/
[5] Reporters Without Borders, World Freedom of Expression Index 2020, https://rsf.org/en/ranking
[post_title] => Uzbekistan: on the brink of social explosion
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[post_content] => Since March 2020, the global COVID-19 pandemic, along with the world economies has had a negative impact on Central Asian countries, including Uzbekistan. The pandemic and economic crisis have affected national healthcare systems, public sectors, business activity, consumption, international trade and investment both on a human and an economic level all over the world. In Uzbekistan, for instance, the largest decline in economic activity during the quarantine period took place in the first ten days of April, when the volume of trades on the commodity exchange fell by an average of 30 per cent, and sales of some goods by up to 80 per cent. Between April 1st and 27th, compared to the same period in March, the total cash receipts in the country decreased by 45 per cent, while revenues from sales of products decreased by 31 per cent and revenues from paid services by almost 2.7 times.[1] In these circumstances, Uzbekistan has been taking certain actions to mitigate the impact of the coronavirus pandemic and the global economic crisis on economic growth.
The first case of coronavirus infection was detected in Uzbekistan on March 15th, spurring the leadership to take immediate measures against the COVID-19 outbreak to curb the spread of the virus in the country. First of all, the Republican Anti-Crisis Commission of high-level government officials was established and headed by Prime Minister Abdulla Aripov. As part of the quarantine measures, the Commission urgently announced a strict quarantine regime on almost the whole territory of the country. Public health measures were the first step to control the spread of the virus among the population. Economic measures were the second step to maintain national business activity. The initial and second packages of economic support for the public and economic sectors, including household and business entities totalled 32.3 trillion soms.[2] Moreover, a number of measures are being implemented to encourage economic activity in the country, to ensure social support for the population, optimise budget expenditures, and to support the most affected areas. As of May 30th 2020, more than 500,000 business entities and more than eight million citizens have received benefits and preferences in the amount of about 30 trillion soms, or about $3 billion (six per cent of GDP).[3]
In general, Uzbekistan’s action plan to combat the current and future consequences of the global COVID-19 pandemic can be divided into four areas:
Since Brexit’s inception, immigration has been a hugely dominant theme. Theresa May’s government pledged to reduce net migration to the ‘tens of thousands’, a proclamation[1] aimed at capitalising on anti-immigrant public opinion. Yet attitudes towards the issue are far from simple, and closer inspection reveals a nation hugely divided in its views.
Scotland and England vote very differently to each other. Recent referenda have brought this matter to the fore of public consciousness, with both Brexit and the campaign for Scottish Independence shedding light on the extent of divergence between the two electorates. Whilst the independence referendum ended in defeat for the Yes campaign, the process as a whole opened up the political discourse, demonstrating the continued support for progressive, left-of-centre policies north of the border. Immigration is an issue that encapsulates said differences- the Scottish National Party (SNP) promote the idea of Scotland as an inclusive, tolerant nation, and state that they will ‘stand firm’[2] against the demonisation of migrants and those without British citizenship.[3] The Yes campaign was framed in these progressive terms, with Scottishness celebrated as a civic identity. Such ideas stand in stark contrast to the rhetoric espoused by the Leave campaign in the EU referendum, which emphasised the need to end free movement and regain control over our borders.
With this in mind, the way the respective countries voted in the EU referendum[4] was unsurprising; 62 per cent of Scots voted to remain in comparison with only 46.6 per cent of those in England. It is plausible to assume that, with the issue so central to our decision to leave,[5] Scotland’s vote communicates a much more positive view of immigration and its impact. However, closer analysis of attitudes towards immigration reveals a picture nowhere near as clear-cut. In a research project undertaken by NatCen,[6] Scottish and English participants were asked to rate both the economic and cultural impact of immigration. In spite of the perceived differences between Scottish and English public opinion on the matter, participants from both nations responded almost identically. Such similarities indicate that attitudes towards immigration in the respective countries are not as contrasting as is often believed. Is it in fact other demographic differences, rather than geographical location, that engender division in this area?
Further analysis suggests that this is the case. When examining the relationship between educational background and attitudes towards immigration, 32 per cent of Scottish respondents with zero qualifications stated that immigration is bad for the economy. This percentage was almost mirrored by the equivalent English respondents, with 33 per cent giving the same answer. In light of these findings, it is apparent that educational background plays more of a role in determining one’s stance than which part of the UK one resides in. Similarly, NatCen’s[7] research found a strong correlation between age and attitudes to immigration, with 51 per cent of Scots aged 18-34 viewing immigration as culturally enriching, a viewpoint held by 52 per cent of those in the same age bracket south of the border. Millennials are repeatedly found to have softer attitudes towards immigration- Opinium’s figures[8] from June 2017 show that 59 per cent of those aged 18-24 agreed that immigration is generally beneficial for society. Only 28 per cent of those aged 55-64 held the same opinion.
A study from Common Vision[9] attributes millennials’ positive attitudes towards immigration to their frequent exposure to ‘rapid exchange of information across borders’. Coming into contact with those from different backgrounds builds both tolerance and openness. With criteria such as age and educational background emerging as far stronger determiners of immigration stance than nationhood, other factors must be at work behind England and Scotland’s contrasting behaviour at the ballot box. The unignorable presence of the SNP is an important factor, with their progressive, multicultural ethos attracting the support of voters who view immigration as positive. Whereas the Conservatives reiterated their pledge to reduce net migration to the tens of thousands, the SNP stated that Scotland needed to continue to attract migrants in the wake of Brexit. Taking this into account, it stands to reason that those who voted ‘Yes’ in the Scottish independence referendum would look upon immigration favourably.
This idea is corroborated by the numbers- 56 per cent of Yes voters viewed immigration as culturally beneficial, with only 16 per cent perceiving its impact as negative in this regard. Studying the link between the SNP and pro-immigration views further, 59 per cent of SNP voters[10] in the 2017 General Election viewed immigration as economically beneficial. Interestingly, this viewpoint was shared by exactly the same percentage of Labour voters in England and Wales. Such symmetry provides an explanation for why voting habits in the two countries differ, despite the notable similarity in overall attitudes towards the issue. Rather than Scots in general taking a far more positive view of immigration, the pro-immigration stance of their largest party creates this impression. However, this is counterbalanced by Labour and Liberal Democrats receiving lower levels of support from pro-immigration voters in Scotland than they do in England.
Honing in on the EU referendum, it is pertinent to examine why Scotland voted decisively to Remain despite overall attitudes towards immigration mirroring those in England. It is apparent that the Remain campaign in Scotland was more effective at securing voters less positive about the issue- 70 per cent of Remainers in England expressed positive views of its cultural impact, compared with 56 per cent in Scotland. NatCen[11] point out that no senior politicians from any party in Scotland endorsed Leave, which may explain why greater numbers of those sceptical about immigration voted to Remain. Brexit has created new political fault lines in this area. In addition to age, educational background and political affiliation, Leave and Remain are now indicators of one’s stance on the matter. A study by IpsosMORI[12] measured the issues most important in deciding the referendum vote. One such issue was ‘the number of immigrants coming to Britain’, a matter which 74 per cent of Leavers said influenced their vote. In contrast, only 14 per cent of Remainers cited this as an important factor.
Such disparity evidences how Brexit has added an additional layer of difficulty to an issue already hugely divisive. It is important to note that, despite immigration forming the crux of much referendum campaigning, the general public have actually become more positive about the matter since the vote took place. The reasons for this are uncertain, however IpsosMORI[13] postulate that our decision to leave may have reassured those who favour a reduction. Conversely, the copious amounts of anti-immigrant rhetoric may have sparked a countermovement in support of migrants.
Attitudes towards immigration in the UK are complex and divided, although not in the way one might think. It is demographic differences and voting preferences where contrasting opinions are found. Additionally, attitudes towards the issue are softening in spite of its centrality to the Brexit debate.
Cameron Boyle is a political correspondent for the Immigration Advice Service, an organisation of immigration solicitors who offer free legal support to asylum seekers.
[1] BBC, Immigration: Tories to keep 'tens of thousands' target, https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-39840503
[2] SNP, What is the SNP’s policy on immigration?, https://www.snp.org/policies/pb-what-is-the-snp-s-policy-on-immigration/
[3] Immigration Advice Service, British Citizenship, https://iasservices.org.uk/british-citizenship/
[4] John Curtice and Ian Montagu, Do Scotland and England & Wales Have Different Views About Immigration?, NatCen, December 2018, http://www.natcen.ac.uk/media/1672027/Do-Scotland-and-England-and-Wales-Have-Different-Views-About-Immigration.pdf
[5] Ipsos Mori, Shifting Ground: 8 key findings form a longitudinal study on attitudes towards immigration and Brexit, IPSOS, October 2017, https://www.ipsos.com/sites/default/files/ct/news/documents/2017-10/Shifting%20Ground_Unbound.pdf
[6] Ibid.
[7] Ibid.
[8] Brexit Watch, A Generation Together? What do millennials want from Brexit?, covi, July 2018, http://www.covi.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2018/07/Common-Vision-A-Generation-Together-July-2018-FINAL.pdf
[9] Ibid.
[10] Ibid.
[11] Ibid.
[12] Ipsos Mori, Shifting Ground: 8 key findings form a longitudinal study on attitudes towards immigration and Brexit, IPSOS, October 2017, https://www.ipsos.com/sites/default/files/ct/news/documents/2017-10/Shifting%20Ground_Unbound.pdf
[13] Ibid.
[post_title] => Divided Kingdom: How do Attitudes Towards Immigration Vary Based on Demographic Differences and Voting Preferences? [post_excerpt] => [post_status] => publish [comment_status] => open [ping_status] => open [post_password] => [post_name] => divided-kingdom-how-do-attitudes-towards-immigration-vary-based-on-demographic-differences-and-voting-preferences [to_ping] => [pinged] => [post_modified] => 2019-11-01 16:21:27 [post_modified_gmt] => 2019-11-01 16:21:27 [post_content_filtered] => [post_parent] => 0 [guid] => https://fpc.org.uk/?p=4213 [menu_order] => 0 [post_type] => post [post_mime_type] => [comment_count] => 0 [filter] => raw ) [29] => WP_Post Object ( [ID] => 4152 [post_author] => 38 [post_date] => 2019-10-09 08:15:17 [post_date_gmt] => 2019-10-09 08:15:17 [post_content] =>“Technology is, of course, a double edged sword. Fire can cook our food but also burn us.”
Last year marked the 70th anniversary of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. The values and guiding principles underpinning this declaration may not have changed in 70 years, but the threats to human rights have. For those of us who still believe in the sanctity of human rights, we have to adapt to these threats.
One such threat is technology. Technology and human rights have always been intricately intertwined. From the mastering of civilian bugging in the 1970s and 80s, to the mass expansion of CCTV in the 1990s and early 2000s, to contemporary concerns over data mining and privacy rights we see today; technology has carved open an entire new dimension to human rights concerns in the past 30 years or so.
However, we are only really scratching the surface of the deepening complexities and growing capabilities of modern technology, and the seismic implications for human rights are only just becoming clear.
A case in point is the plight of the Uighur Muslims in Xinjiang Province, West China. The Uighurs are an ethnic Turkic peoples originating from East and Central Asia who form the majority ethnic group in Xinjiang, numbering approximately 11 million. Unlike the Han Chinese - who constitute the predominant ethnic group in mainland China - the Uighur population is primarily Muslim and culturally distinct from the rest of China’s population.
Since at least 1949, the Uighur community has been subject to systematic discrimination by the Chinese Communist Party (CCP). However in the past four years, following a series of riots and sporadic violent attacks by Uighur Islamist and separatist groups, state persecution of the Uighurs and other ethnic Turkic groups has intensified - according to Human Rights Watch - to ‘a scope and scale not seen in China since the 1966-1976 Cultural Revolution’.[1] The purported reason for this intensification is the ‘de-extremification’ of the region.
This repression has involved the mass surveillance of the Uighur population and the reported internment of over one million Uighurs in ‘re-education camps’.[2] Where, according to detailed testimonies from former inmates, detainees are forced to undergo psychological indoctrination programmes designed to erase Uighur cultural and religious identity and foster loyalty to the Chinese state - including memorising CCP propaganda, giving thanks to President Xi Jinping and learning Mandarin.[3]
State-of-the-art technology has been fundamental to the disturbing effectiveness of this state repression. Facial-recognition surveillance technology capable of identifying individuals by their ethnicity, supplied by surveillance giants Hikvision and Dahua, has been embedded ubiquitously across Xinjiang (and, incidentally, Tibet), including in gas stations and in hundreds of mosques. The Chinese government is also forcing Uighurs to download an app that monitors the content on their smart phones and searches for ‘illegal’ images,[4] and according to Human Rights Watch, is using ‘Wi-Fi sniffers’ that collect the unique identifying addresses of computers, smartphones, and other networked devices.[5]
The data obtained from such ‘sensors’ is being fed into a predictive policing program called the Integrated Joint Operations Platform (IJOP), which has been fully implemented for the first time in Xinjiang.[6] This platform uses Big Data to analyse the movements and activities of the Uighur population and make predictive judgements on the threat level of individuals. Often after evaluation of IJOP data, individuals are detained and sent straight to re-education centres.[7]
In short, technology has augmented a reality whereby the Chinese state has near Orwellian levels of omniscience and control over certain ethnic minorities. In Xinjiang, we are seeing just how long a shadow technology can cast over human rights.
It is not all bad news however. Technology also has enormous potential to defend human rights.
As the World Business Council for Sustainable Development (WBCSD) surmises, ‘Digital technologies are opening up numerous new possibilities to identify, analyse and remedy human rights risks.’[8] They identify a number of areas where technology is being harnessed to safeguard human rights. Data and information collection, for instance, has enormous potential. Satellites, drones, balloons and smart sensors like radio-frequency identification (RFID) can monitor and analyse land, ecosystems, movement of materials and product commodity chains to determine whether people’s land property rights are being violated, and whether products come from verified suppliers.[9] Apps and chatbots can also be employed to give workers a voice to express their concerns and report human rights abuses either directly to their own employers, to government authorities or to third parties.
An innovative best practice example of this is Global Fishing Watch (GFW). GFW is using data obtained from satellite technologies and cloud computing to produce immense datasets that identify fishing patterns and produce highly detailed visual maps and infographics that are shared online. This information equips authorities and stakeholders to tackle human rights abuses in the fishing industry, such as spotting vessels that have been at sea for extended periods of time and are therefore denying their crew a break from work and violating their working rights.
Furthermore, rather than being used for predictive policing and mass violations of privacy, the ‘Big Data’ generated by such technologies can feed into the business decision-making procedures and activities of private companies; enhancing the capacity of transnational corporations to identify and respond to human rights issues in their operations and commodity chains and make more human rights-centred decisions.[10]
Again, several examples are emerging of such practice. Once such example is Laborlink – a mobile app that allows factory workers to report workplace abuses and provide general feedback – either identified or anonymously.[11] Over one million workers in 16 countries have so far utilised the app, resulting in a vast improvement in workplace rights. For example in Bangladesh, through the Alliance for Bangladesh Worker Safety, Laborlink partnered with ELEVATE to build a first-of-its-kind technology-driven helpline that receives calls on over 500 issues a month, including complaints about wages and benefits and fire dangers inside and outside factories.[12]
A similar app, WorkIt, has been instrumental in securing significant victories for Walmart workers in the United States - including substantially better corporate-wide pay and leave policies – through a campaign orchestrated by United for Respect.[13]
Consequently, as well as posing a threat to human rights, technology provides a considerable arsenal that concerned governments, corporations and NGOs can – and must – utilise. However we cannot just fight fire with fire. Policy and legislation must also keep up with the technological dimension of human rights. Governments and legislators must therefore review the options available to them to abate human rights abuses made possible by technology. But just what options are available? The answer is several.
An emerging legal vehicle that will have a crucial role to play is the Magnitsky powers. Leading for the Labour Party, I managed to secure the inclusion of Magnitsky clauses in the UK Sanctions and Anti-Money Laundering Act in Spring 2018 Magnitsky legislation grants government ministers the power to issue sanctions and other punitive measures against individuals or entities engaging in human rights abuses. Crucially, this includes private companies.
On formally leaving the European Union, the UK will be able to autonomously apply sanctions using the Magnitsky clause more easily[14], and will therefore possess a much needed lever with which to target companies selling technologies being used to violate human rights for entering into contracts with the perpetrators. Like, for example, Hikvision – a move that is already being considered by the United States owing to their operations in Xinjiang. And Hikvision is just the tip of the iceberg.
A second lever available to states is export controls – a policy initiative encouraged by Human Rights Watch in the context of the Uighur crisis.[15] Identifying appropriate export control mechanisms to deny human rights abusing states from gaining access to the technology being used to violate basic rights is critical, and Labour has committed to strengthening export controls as part of our human rights-focussed foreign policy. By taking this simple step, concerned onlookers will stop unwittingly equipping the very human rights abusers they are condemning.
Thirdly, governments must engage with the technology sector. Technology companies need to be made aware of the human rights risk that their business operations can and do contribute to, and assurances must be sought that they will not enter into contracts with government authorities or any other organisation that is committing gross human rights abuses. If necessary, new regulations should be introduced to facilitate this. A bad reputation is bad for business, so encouraging leading tech sector giants to recalibrate their business models and tender policies in line with human rights realities could prove an effective tool in mitigating the detrimental impact technology can have on human rights, and hopefully others will follow their example.
Fourthly, governments’ need to cooperate to introduce a clear international legal framework for internet governance. Currently the free for all resembles the 16th Century law of the sea as pirates abound – there are no shared controls on terrorism, child protection, intellectual property or tax and as more and more economic activity moves to the web more and more human activity takes place in an anarchic value free vacuum. As long as such a gap exists in the legal architecture, human rights abusers using the web to commit their crimes will continue to find dark corners to hide in.
As we enter the third decade of the 21st century, the inexorable advance of technology will continue apace. We are entering the era of 5G (as we know all too well from the Huawei issue), artificial intelligence and potentially even commercial flights into space. If we are to realise the grand and noble vision of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights expounded 70 years ago democratic governments, civil society, human rights activists and other entities engaged in the global struggle for human rights must adapt to the new reality technology is presenting us. We must therefore recognise and respond to the deeply disturbing implications for human rights posed by technology, but also harness its enormous potential to take the fight to the worst perpetrators.
Failure to do either may render the era since the Universal Declaration of Human Rights a mere footnote in history, rather than a blueprint of a future reality for the millions being oppressed in the present.
Helen Goodman MP is a Shadow
Minister for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs
[1] Human Rights Watch, Eradicating Ideological Viruses: China’s Campaign of Repression Against Xinjiang’s Muslims (Human Rights Watch, 2018), https://www.hrw.org/report/2018/09/09/eradicating-ideological-viruses/chinas-campaign-repression-against-xinjiangs
[2] Adrian Zenz, New Evidence for China’s Political Re-Education Campaign in Xinjiang China Brief, vol. 18, issue 10, May 15, 2018, https://jamestown.org/program/evidence-for-chinas-political-re-education-campaign-in-xinjiang (accessed 2019)
[3] Malik, ‘Muslim inmates in China detention camp forced to eat pork, drink alcohol and physically tortured as some commit suicide’
[4] Adam Lynch, App targeting Uighur population censors content, lacks basic security, Open Tech, August 2018, https://www.opentech.fund/news/app-targeting-uyghur-population-censors-content-lacks-basic-security/
[5] Human Rights Watch, China: Big Data Fuels Crackdown in Minority Region, February 2018, https://www.hrw.org/news/2018/02/26/china-big-data-fuels-crackdown-minority-region
[6] Ibid (footnote 5)
[7] Ibid (footnote 5)
[8] Davide Fiedler, Is technology a game-changer for human rights in corporate value chains?, WBCSD, November 2018, https://www.wbcsd.org/Overview/Panorama/Articles/Is-technology-a-game-changer-for-human-rights-in-corporate-value-chains
[9] Ibid (footnote 8)
[10] Ibid (footnote 8)
[12] Good World Solutions, https://goodworldsolutions.org/
[13] Teke Wiggin, Labour Organizers Look To Apps To Reach Wider Audiences, Huffington Post, July 2018, https://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/entry/labor-organizers-apps-audiences_us_5b47a609e4b022fdcc577a47?ri18n=true
[14] According to the Foreign Affairs Select Committee the FCO has been equivocating on the extent to which sanctions under the 2018 Act can be applied whilst the UK is still a member of the EU, particularly in relation to elements related to trade. Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania have their own Magnitsky legislation whilst being members of the EU https://publications.parliament.uk/pa/cm201719/cmselect/cmfaff/1703/170305.htm
[15] https://www.hrw.org/sites/default/files/report_pdf/china0918_web2.pdf
[post_title] => Back to the Future – Why a Human Rights-Focused Foreign Policy must keep up with Technology [post_excerpt] => [post_status] => publish [comment_status] => closed [ping_status] => open [post_password] => [post_name] => back-to-the-future-why-a-human-rights-focused-foreign-policy-must-keep-up-with-technology [to_ping] => [pinged] => [post_modified] => 2019-10-09 08:18:27 [post_modified_gmt] => 2019-10-09 08:18:27 [post_content_filtered] => [post_parent] => 0 [guid] => https://fpc.org.uk/?p=4152 [menu_order] => 0 [post_type] => post [post_mime_type] => [comment_count] => 0 [filter] => raw ) [30] => WP_Post Object ( [ID] => 4136 [post_author] => 38 [post_date] => 2019-10-03 16:04:59 [post_date_gmt] => 2019-10-03 16:04:59 [post_content] =>One of the most profound characteristics of the public debates on Brexit is the substantial lack of attention to its international implications.
The Brexit issue is naturally debated in the context of domestic affairs and is focused on the future of the relationship with the European Union (EU). However, the domination of the domestic and/or regional perspective on Brexit, combined with the absence of a global perspective, reveals the reduced sense of threat to both the United Kingdom’s (UK’s) hard and soft international power, and consequently less concern about the prospects of the West’s resilience. The threats are discussed but mainly in terms of economic competition, asymmetric threats and military conflicts, although the issue of resilience of the Western model is gradually gaining in visibility. Yet, as argued by Ann Applebaum[1], one of the problems of the West is that people have become complacent about their democratic systems and are slow to realise how they can change or deteriorate.
The meaning of Brexit is read in a polarising way by various different political and social groups – from triumph of democracy through isolationism and archaism to a liberation similar to the collapse of the Soviet Union. The author’s concern is for the effect of an exit of one of the major European states from the EU on the outcomes of political competition in the international sphere, with the rise of authoritarian powers, like China and Russia, coinciding with a decline of Europe and the West.
Post- cold war era and ‘invisible enemies’
The unfolding of the post-cold war era brought both predicted and unpredicted consequences. Once the EU opened its doors to the countries of the former Warsaw Pact, the EU enlarged and looked stronger than before. In the 2000s, however, we started to witness both a domestic and international decline of democracy in Eastern Europe and a rise of populism in the West. Most importantly, there was a decline in the commitment to the values of liberal democracy, which previously had been a key achievement and trait of Western and global democracies.
Russia appeared to be well prepared to meet the conditions of globalisation and free competition by mobilising its resources to play the role of a toxic partner, undermining liberalism, and a disrupter of liberal international relations. Unlike the cold war, when the Soviet Union was isolated economically and deterred militarily, post-Soviet Russia has been integrating into international trade and organisations since the early 90s. Russia’s increasingly autocratic rule quickly grasped the substance of pragmatism and engagement principles in the post-cold war world, and began to manipulate them and to use its resources to split the foreign policy decisions of the EU, and affect the United States (US). For example, Mueller during his Congress testimony declared ‘alleged’ Russian election interference one of the greatest challenges to democracy he had encountered in his career.[2]
The EU in turn was re-shaping and re-formulating the rationale of the union. While in the post-World War II era it was attempting to prevent the domination of one power over Europe and keep Europe peaceful, the confrontation with the Soviet Union led to its new role in the global confrontation and deterrence of the totalitarian regimes. In the post-cold war era, the EU adjusted to the new conditions of peace by playing a role of a motivator of change and reforms in the former socialist bloc, and trying to cooperate and be an attractive model for Russia and the Eastern neighbourhood. Yet, the wave of illiberalism and right populism, accompanied by re-emerging xenophobia represents new challenges for post-cold war Europe.
International establishment, lack of transparency and corruption
However, the worst soft power threat, which is ‘an invisible enemy’ in contemporary international relations, is corruption. This is a channel which appears to be the most convenient way of world competing powers to undermine institutions of the West. A project by the Hudson institute[3] showed how oligarchs, close to the Russian government, are giving support to think tanks and Universities in the West; while Azerbaijani laundromat[4] showed how easy it was to buy off the deputies of the Council of Europe to vote against the objective and critical report on human rights violations in the country in 2013.
The author’s observations of the few corruption scandals in the UK and the relatively weak reaction from the public suggests that corruption emerges as the most convenient channel for the erosion and weakening of the state fabric. Once the cover pages of the national newspapers reflected the information about dubious practices of the Members of Parliament (MPs), followed by investigations and proceedings that revealed the shortcomings of the institutional appointments.[5] Lack of public reaction also showed that in the public’s perception corruption and sleaze are almost routinely associated with politics and establishment.
Corruption and unethical behaviour has been undermining not only the resilience of the Western states to threats, but also its ability to support and project the values and power of liberalism beyond its borders. Western vulnerability to corruption promotes scepticism regarding the future of democracy and the validity of democratic values.
International trade and economic relations are usually not under the radar of the national parliaments, media and non-governmental organisations (NGOs) to the same degree as the domestic decisions and relations are. This eventually leads to the creation of an ‘international establishment’, special circles of officials and politicians making deals with dictators and developing cosy and friendly personal relations with them. This is especially true in the case of oil rich states, when interstate relations are reduced to the inter-elite ones, closed to scrutiny by public institutions, and eventually making external sources of legitimacy to replace the domestic ones. For example Azerbaijan’s leader, President Ilham Aliyev has not been too concerned with the revelations contained in the Panama Papers,[6] but he does get concerned if and when Europe or the US do follow up, investigate and prosecute those involved.
Usurping power - undermining institutions of ‘checks and balances’
Contemporary politics shows that there is a thin borderline between preserving the democratic institutions and gradual usurping their power.
Reliance on institutions of representative power is natural for citizens of the states with an old and mature democracy. But it may turn into being overly reliant, which would diminish the societal activity and personal form of activism. On the other hand, lack of influence of the public protests on the decision making is also contributing to this – especially frequently quoted reactions of the British public to the Iraq war, when large rallies did not affect the decision to join the coalition, consequently leading to apathy and the sense that it’s hard to reverse or simply influence the official decision. The other factors were stressed also. Political psychologist Shawn Rosenberg[7] considers the trend of fewer people taking ‘elites’ seriously, while simultaneously increased access to social networks facilitates the proliferation of fake news. He correctly stresses that ‘democracy is hard work’, but gives a deterministic perspective of the inevitability of democratic decline due to the nature of human brains to simplify things.
Coupled with society’s participation fatigue, withdrawal from politics, along with anti-establishment trends leaves institutions unprotected from the threat of being usurped, or monopolised, or penetrated by nepotism. The experiences in post-Soviet states showed this clearly. But traits which were usually associated with states in transition, have been expressing themselves in states with mature democracies – in the governance style of Trump, or the most recent shutting down of parliament in the UK, as examples.
Media and politicians
What seems to be a problem with the current media and politicians, is a failure to resolve the seeming contradiction between local and global. The role of the media and politicians is to bring the full picture, including the deep interconnections between the local and global. However, people and constituencies are often ‘protected’ by being fenced off from the responsibility for the global affairs’ consequences affected by the populism of their politicians. This is enabled by national leaders telling only partial stories, or partial truths.
Populists often reinforce a partial picture of the world, one limited by the ‘interests’ of the constituency. But the interests and motivations are an interactive process, when media and politicians can extend the borders of knowledge and understanding of the events, first of all by showing deep inter-connections between their own decisions and events happening in other parts of the world. For example, linking many years of energy trade that empowered autocrats in the Middle East to the resulting crises in the region, producing hunger, conflict and refugees. The migrants and refugees thus would look like the natural and inevitable price for the hot water and lights on in every house.
Conclusions
The political sphere nowadays is dominated by manipulation more than ever. The populist and right wing media points to the threats coming from migrants, portraying them as people who bring in high rates of crime, who steal jobs and social benefits, and consequently portrays the EU as the external vehicle promoting it. The political discourse, pointing to these ‘external enemies’, or reasons of the problems, is becoming even more mythological by simplifying the relations and securitising issues, which in actuality cannot be reduced to the simple ‘us’ versus ‘them’.
The reality is that the threat is not coming from migrants or from the EU, it comes from within the country as a weak response to the challenges characterising the current stage of politics and international relations. The new generation of politicians and media, who are adjusting to these challenges by resorting to populism, are balancing a tightrope of risks and dangers of moving farther away from what so far has constituted the identity and core of the democratic states; stable institutions resistant to absolutism, autocratism and illiberalism. It is then obvious that under current conditions of global soft power competition surviving individually is rather a luxury, which even such a global power as the US cannot afford anymore.
[1] Mathew Kupfer, The West lost faith in its values, but Ukriane should not, says columnist Applebaum, Kyiv Post, September 2019, https://www.kyivpost.com/ukraine-politics/the-west-lost-faith-in-its-values-but-ukraine-shouldnt-says-columnist-applebaum.html
[2] Eric Tucker, Mary Clare Jalonick and Michael Balsamo, ‘It is not a witch hunt’, Mueller says of his investigation, Boston Globe, July 2019, https://www.bostonglobe.com/news/politics/2019/07/24/mueller-take-center-stage-russia-probe-hearings/cc58otgLPVMpWmazDzGzPO/story.html
[3] Ilya Zaslavsky, How non-state actors export kleptocratic norms to the West, Hudson Institute, September 2017, https://www.hudson.org/research/13875-how-non-state-actors-export-kleptocratic-norms-to-the-west
[4] OCCRP, The Azerbaijani Laundromat, September 2017, https://www.occrp.org/en/azerbaijanilaundromat/
[5] A series of issues including the 2009 Expenses scandal that saw a number of former MPs convicted of crimes, concerns over party donors being offered peerages (becoming members of the House of Lords) and lobbying scandals where MPs were receiving pay for political influence.
[6] John Doe Manifesto, Panama Papers source offers documents to governments, hints at more to come, ICIJ, May 2016, https://www.icij.org/investigations/panama-papers/20160506-john-doe-statement/#_ga=1.164154486.836406132.1459807380.
[7] Rick Shenkman, The shocking paper predicting the end of democracy. Human Brains aren’t built for self-rule, says Shawn Rosenberg, Politico Magazine, September 2019, https://www.politico.com/magazine/story/2019/09/08/shawn-rosenberg-democracy-228045
[post_title] => Brexit in the context of democracy under threat [post_excerpt] => [post_status] => publish [comment_status] => open [ping_status] => open [post_password] => [post_name] => brexit-in-the-context-of-democracy-under-threat [to_ping] => [pinged] => [post_modified] => 2019-10-03 16:05:58 [post_modified_gmt] => 2019-10-03 16:05:58 [post_content_filtered] => [post_parent] => 0 [guid] => https://fpc.org.uk/?p=4136 [menu_order] => 0 [post_type] => post [post_mime_type] => [comment_count] => 0 [filter] => raw ) [31] => WP_Post Object ( [ID] => 4030 [post_author] => 38 [post_date] => 2019-09-26 09:10:16 [post_date_gmt] => 2019-09-26 09:10:16 [post_content] =>Who is accountable for human rights violations in de facto states? The de facto authorities, the patron or the parent state? Regardless of the answers to that question, there is great potential for journalists, lawyers and activists to contribute to improving the human rights situation of ordinary people living there ─ especially if they join forces.
After the initial military conflicts ended in the disputed territories of Abkhazia, Transnistria, South Ossetia and Nagorno Karabakh, a form of quasi-legal order emerged. Government-like institutions were established; schools, health care, social institutions, courts and mass media. The remaining populations may be politically disoriented but continue to live in accordance with their customs and traditions and try to make the best out of often-difficult situations.
Squeezed between conflicting states, de facto states are often abandoned by international governmental and non-governmental organisations (NGOs). However, there are nevertheless some independent civil society groups being active, in particular in Abkhazia and Nagorno-Karabakh, despite the obstacles. It is not easy, for instance, to protect human rights without proper legal frameworks. Solving cases by urging de facto officials to comply with international norms or complaining to international human rights bodies will often not be effective.
This vacuum-like situation for the protection of human rights in de facto states should nevertheless not deter human rights work. We argue in this essay that cooperation between journalists, lawyers and human rights activists still may function as a catalyst of improving the situation of ordinary people.
For clarity of terminology, we refer to ‘de facto states’, ‘de facto regimes’, and ‘self-proclaimed territories’ (according to the terminology of the European Court of Human Rights (ECtHR)[1]) in reference to regimes that stand outside of the international order of recognised statehood, such as Abkhazia, Transnistria, South Ossetia, Nagorno Karabakh, and Northern Cyprus.
The term ‘parent state’ refers to the states which according to international law has recognised jurisdiction over the territories (the Metropolitan state, meaning Georgia, Moldova, Azerbaijan, and Cyprus) and ‘patron states’ for states that support de facto states politically, economically and militarily (such as Russia, Armenia, and Turkey).
There are obviously significant differences between de facto states in terms of their economic, social and security situation. In this essay, we will not go into details about such differences. Instead, the first part examines some of the main common challenges of protecting human rights in such territories. The second part analyses some of the key cases adjudicated by the ECtHR with the aim of finding an international position on who is responsible for human rights violations in de facto states. The final part focuses on the work of domestic civil society in co-operation with international human rights organisations. From this review, we aim to draw some conclusions about how international civil society could play a more prominent role in enhancing the human rights of individuals living in de facto states.
Protecting human rights
The emergence of new regimes raises the issue of statehood and international recognition. Violent conflict and violations of basic principles of international law results in de facto regimes not being accepted in the conventional club of states due to a lack of international recognition. They are placed in ‘a state of limbo’.[2]
The situations in Abkhazia, Transnistria, South Ossetia and Nagorno-Karabakh are often described as frozen or protracted conflicts.[3] This refers to a situation where the armed phase of the conflict has ended or is reduced[4] but without peace being established.[5] The result is a situation where an emerging regime is not recognised by the international community, cannot become a member of international organisations and lacks external sovereignty.[6]
Being locked in such a situation and constantly seeking international recognition, provides the patron state with considerable leverage. Abkhazia, South Ossetia, Transnistria and Nagorno-Karabakh all depend on support from either Russia or Armenia, which provide vital financial and military resources. As noted by Thomas De Waal, while Abkhazia strives to foster its relationship with the European Union (EU), the leverage exercised by the patron state has pushed it “even deeper into the Russian sphere”.[7]
This separation from the international club of states jeopardises some basic rights of ordinary people. Residents lack enjoyment of basic benefits that inhabitants of de jure states often take for granted. For instance, passport holders of de facto states cannot travel internationally due to invalid travel documents. Youth have restricted possibilities when it comes to receiving an international education or participating in exchange programs.
Other problems include a strong pressure on the population to support the de facto regime. Insisting on respect for human rights and complaining about violations may be seen as a threat to the project of creating a new state.
De facto states are not state parties to international human rights treaties. Neither legislation nor international obligations of the parent state that protects human rights may be referred to in the de facto state’s constitution. De facto states may have enacted their own local legislation, which refers to international human rights, but institutional protections remain weak. If there is no independent and effective institution that can hear your complaint on human rights violations, protection may in effect become illusory.
How do universal human rights apply?
Finding the answer to the question on responsibility for human rights violations in de facto states is not easy. International law gives limited guidance. The situation seems to be that on one side there are regimes that lack de jure statehood and are under constant influence of patron and (sometimes) parent states. On the other side, millions of people residing on the territory of such entities at least should have the right to enjoy the same fundamental rights as other people.
Many of the human rights prescribed by the 1948 Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which remains the core document defining internationally recognised human rights, represent erga omnes standards enjoyed by all human beings, regardless of their beliefs, sexuality, race, nationality or other external factors. These rights have become part of customary international law, and therefore all state and non-state actors are bound to respect and protect them.[8]
Experience indicates, however, that without a clear and widely accepted doctrine on responsibility for upholding rights (respecting, protecting, and fulfilling them), they tend to be disregarded. So, setting aside the political aspects of the situations of the de facto states, the most important question is which actors could be held responsible for violating human rights. In spite of not being party to any international treaties of human rights, do de facto regimes themselves have international obligations to respect, protect and fulfil human rights? And which roles related to upholding human rights are parent and patron states obliged to play?
To avoid a legal vacuum, the ECtHR has placed responsibility on both parent state and patron state authorities. In Ilascu and others v Moldova and Russia,the Court stated that jurisdiction is presumed to be exercised through the State’s territory.
The Court added, however, that while the responsibility for human rights violations primarily lies on States Parties, an exception exists if the state is prevented from exercising its authority on part of its territory as a result of military occupation by the armed forces of another State which effectively controls the territory concerned.
In Transnistria, which is part of Moldova but without effective state control, the state still has a positive obligation under Article 1 of the Convention to take diplomatic, economic, judicial or other measures that are within its power and in accordance with international law to secure to the applicants the rights guaranteed by the Convention.
The judgement also discussed Russia’s extra-territorial jurisdiction, applying the test of ‘effective control’ to establish whether Russia provided military, economic and political support to the regime in Transnistria. Taking into account its military and political influence, including the presence of the Russian army on the territory and Russia’s reluctance to prevent or put to an end to the violation of the applicant’s rights, the Court found Russia responsible.[9]
The same line was followed by the Court in the case of Ivantoc and Others v Moldova and Russia.[10] The Court stated that Russia was responsible for the violations found in the case, which took place in Transnistria. In a more recent decision, Catan and Others v Moldova and Russia, the Grand Chamber found Russia’s responsible for Convention violations.[11]
In a judgement from 2017, Sandu and Others v. the Republic of Moldova and Russia, the Court seems to preserve its initial opinion about the responsibility of both Moldova and Russia over the contested territory of Transnistria andfound that both exercised jurisdiction under Article 1 of ECHR - Moldova as a territorial state, and Russia due to its effective control.[12]
Based on these judgements, it could be concluded that by applying the effective control test, the Court placed the main responsibility on the Patron state and at the same time did not relieve the Parent state from its positive obligation to take appropriate diplomatic or other measures in support of Convention rights.
So far, we have not reached an answer to the question on the responsibility of the de facto authorities themselves. Closer to answering that question is a resolution by the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe (PACE) of 10 October 2018. It states that as the human rights monitoring mechanisms constitute important tools in guaranteeing the universal human rights, the duty to respect human rights of its inhabitants should also be placed on de facto authorities themselves along with the states exercising effective control:
“… the exercise of de facto authority brings with it a duty to respect the rights of all inhabitants of the territory in question, as those rights would otherwise be respected by the authorities of the State of which the territory is a part; even illegitimate assumption of the powers of the State must be accompanied by assumption of the corresponding responsibilities of the State towards its inhabitants. This includes a duty to co-operate with international human rights monitoring mechanisms. The Assembly also calls on States which exercise effective control over territories where local de facto authorities operate to exercise their influence so as to enable effective monitoring by international human rights bodies.”[13]
Based on these determinations, it is fair to conclude that both the parent and the patron state, as well as de facto authorities are responsible to uphold human rights to the extent that they exercise effective control over the territory. In practice, however, only a few cases will be brought to international human rights bodies, and the impact of general statements and resolutions of international organisations are limited.
To improve the human rights situation on the ground, there is a need, even more so than in recognised states that have clear-cut obligations to respect and protect human rights, for civil society activism, independent journalism and lawyers that refer to international human rights standards in order to build awareness, capacity, and willingness locally to deal with human rights violations.
Such actors can, especially if they are coordinated, challenge de facto authorities to increase protection of human rights, and bring about greater awareness among the general population of their human rights. We believe that this can be done in status-neutral ways, based on the above-rendered argument by PACE, that “the exercise of de facto authority brings with it a duty to respect the rights of all inhabitants of the territory in question”.
Strategies for strengthening human rights
We therefore argue that the principal goal of the international society at this time should be to strengthen human rights protection of ordinary individuals at local levels, irrespective of the legal status of the territories. This is in accordance with the 1975 Helsinki Final Act, which affirms that the international society should provide conditions in which people can live peacefully, free from any threat to their security.
Based on long-term experience from human rights work in the post-soviet space, we argue that bottom-up approaches should be prioritised by international actors. Grassroot civil society organisation initiatives to promote equality between people, to fight discrimination based on sex, age, disability, race, religion or sexual orientation, to improve prison conditions, to fight corruption and address other concrete issues that can be solved locally. Grassroot organisations can play important roles, both by making de facto authorities accountable and by spreading wider understanding in the population of human rights.
An important premise for this view is that many human rights issues may be addressed without conflict issues being solved. This is not to say, however, that the unresolved conflict issues do not impact the human rights situation. The human costs of conflict are extensive, especially for displaced persons but also for all persons living in de facto states.
There exist several obstacles to the promotion of human rights by civil society groups in de facto states, including a lack of information about the contents and effects of de facto government policies, and the lack of regional and international co-operation. While the space for civil society activism is quite wide in Abkhazia, in some of the other de facto states it is restricted. Media in de facto states are often politicised and/or dominated by patron state media.[14]
To overcome such obstacles, there should be more regional cooperation to eliminate the current information vacuum. Regional cooperation should involve journalists, lawyers and human rights defenders working on the ground in de facto, parent and patron states, as well as international organisations. Such cooperation should focus on promoting democratic institutions, strengthening freedom of expression, association, assembly and other fundamental freedoms, as well as rule of law.
By joining forces, journalists, lawyers, and human rights defenders may succeed in having real impact on the way de facto authorities act and in the way the population perceive their rule.
Lawyers can play an important role in challenging abuse of power, discrimination, etc., through the application of existing laws. They should also be trained to refer to international human rights standards, for instance by experts of the Council of Europe or international non-governmental organisations. They can also contribute to strengthening the position of journalists and human rights defenders vis-à-vis executive authorities, by providing legal advice and defending their rights in courts. Lawyers may also be useful for the other actors in developing strategic thinking on the selection of issues and methods.
Independent journalism is a key to exposing government abuse, corruption, and human rights violations. By working together with human rights defenders and lawyers, journalists strengthen their position. Their findings of wrongdoing or of abusive policies may eventually result in cases being taken to courts and/or form the basis of campaigns and popular movements for change. Through this co-operation, journalists may also increase their resistance to political influence, and develop a more professional approach to reporting.
In some de facto states, there are government institutions with an independent status and a mandate to protect and promote human rights. The Ombudsperson (commissioner) for human rights in Abkhazia, is an example. It was established by a separate law in 2016 and provides citizens and civil society organisations with a complaint mechanism for human rights violations.
Such institutions, if they are allowed by de facto authorities to function independently, may play an important role in fostering human rights awareness, and finding human rights-based solutions to societal issues. They may also lead to strengthening of civil society initiatives, if they have a co-operative approach.
Only in March 2018, the de facto Abkhazian parliament elected Asida Shakryl as ombudsperson. Even if the institution had been created by a 2016 law, it had lacked funding to operate. The ombudsperson’s office formally opened in November 2018.[15] It might therefore be premature to evaluate the effectiveness of the institution. The Ombudsperson’s intervention in a recent case of death in detention, however, signals that she aims to be outspoken on clear cases of abuse. The Ombudsperson both asked for legislative changes to increase protection against torture, and for mandatory recording on video of interrogations.[16]
Strategies of co-operation and local empowerment may prove hard to implement due to hostility from authorities in de facto or patron states. There is therefore great need for status-neutral involvement of international organisations to support and co-operate with local initiatives and help build their capacity.
EU funding and funding from democratic states should be made available to support training of journalists and establishment of news sites providing professional reporting. Such support could also be tailored to nurture cooperation between journalists, human rights defenders and lawyers, i.e. by establishing meeting points and joint training. International professional networks of journalists should also be encouraged to include journalists from de facto states.
This may be viewed with suspicious eyes by authorities in parent states. They should, however, consider that strengthening human rights protection in de facto states are beneficial not only for the people living there, but also for the parent state in the case of a solution of conflicts and re-integration of the de facto state into the parent state. To re-integrate a well-functioning territory is easier than to re-integrate a territory characterised by widespread human rights problems.
There may also be a need to create, train and prepare mobile groups of lawyers and human rights defenders to be able to react quickly to and document situations of serious human rights violations and escalations of conflicts. Such groups could provide accurate information and defend the rights of people caught in conflict situations, which is currently lacking.
Conclusions
While it remains important to support the use of international complaints mechanisms to address human rights issues in de facto states, supporting development of civil society groups and training of journalists and lawyers to work together on issues may prove to be the most effective strategy to improve human rights in de facto states.
International organisations, the EU, and democratic governments should increase their support for such co-operation. Tripartite collaboration of journalists, lawyers and human rights defenders has proved especially effective in addressing human rights issues, disseminating knowledge about human rights and building pressure on authorities (de facto or de jure) to address issues.
The international community should press for solutions to difficulties of accessing de facto states. Opportunities should be made for international human rights organisations to conduct status-neutral field research, without being accused of violating international law.[17]
Both the patron and the parent state as well as de facto authorities have a responsibility to respect, protect and fulfil human rights to the extent that they have effective control over a territory. They should co-operate in facilitating access to international human rights mechanisms and in the implementation of international decisions.
Many human rights issues can be solved in status-neutral ways, such as improving prison conditions, health care, education, social services, and housing; eliminating discrimination; and increasing respect for fundamental freedoms. Co-operation on solving such issues should be strengthened, both internally and regionally.
It is also clear, however, that unresolved conflict issues have severe impacts on many human rights for both people living in de facto states, and for displaced people. Improving status-neutral human rights should therefore never be a substitute for efforts in solving the conflicts and remedying their negative consequences.
About six million people live in de facto states in Europe. There is no doubt in international legal theory that they have human rights on par with people living in recognised states.
More
efforts should now be invested in making human rights a reality for these
people.
Authors' bios:
Gunnar M. Ekeløve-Slydal is Deputy Secretary General, Norwegian Helsinki Committee, and a Lecturer at the University of South East Norway. He studied philosophy at the University of Oslo and worked for many years for the Norwegian Centre for Human Rights at the University of Oslo and as Editor of the Nordic Journal on Human Rights. He has written extensively on human rights, international institutions, and philosophical themes, including textbooks, reports, and articles.
Ana Pashalishvili is a lawyer with a broad spectrum of expertise in international law and human rights. She joined the NHC in April 2014 and since then has been actively working on topics related to human rights, international public and criminal law as well as data privacy, documentation and project management.
Inna Sangadzhieva is a Senior Advisor at the Norwegian Helsinki Committee (NHC). She is a linguist from the Kalmyk State University (Russia) and has MA at political science from the University of Oslo. Inna has been working at the NHC for 15 years, she is an author of several articles and reports, mostly regarding the political and human rights situation in Russia and the former Soviet Union.
Photo by Caucasian Knot.
[1] See for example: Ilaşcu and Others v. Moldova and Russia, Application No 48787/99, Judgement, 8 July 2004
[2] Nina Caspersen and Gareth Stansfield, Unrecognised states in the international system. Routledge, 2011, pp. 1-3
[3] Charles King, The Benefits of Ethnic War: Understanding Eurasia’s Unrecognized States. World Politics, Cambridge University Press, Vol. 53, No. 4 (July 2001), pp. 524-552
[4] For the situation in Nagorno-Karabakh, ‘low-intensity armed conflict’ may be the right categorization due to sniper shooting and occasionally flaring up of fighting.
[5] Silvia von Steinsdorff and Anna Fruhstorfer, “Post-Soviet de facto States in Search of Internal and External Legitimacy. Introduction”, Communist and Post-Communist Studies, 45 (1-2), p. 118.
[6] Dov Lynch, Engaging Eurasia’s Separatist States: Unresolved Conflicts and de Facto States, United States Institute of Peace, 2004, p. 15.
[7] Thomas De Waal, “Introduction: The Strange Endurance of De Facto States”, Carnegie Europe, December 3, 2018, https://carnegieeurope.eu/2018/12/03/introduction-strange-endurance-of-de-facto-states-pub-77841
[8] Hans-Joachim Heintze, “Are De Facto Regimes Bound by Human Rights?” Yearbook of the Organization of Security and Co-operation in Europe (OSCE) 2010, p. 268.
[9] Ilaşcu and Others v. Moldova and Russia, Application No 48787/99, Judgement, 8 July 2004, paras. 310-385
[10] Ivantoc and Others v Moldova and Russia Application No 23687/05, Merits and Just Satisfaction, 15 November 2011, paras. 118-119.
[11] Catan and Others v Moldova and Russia, Applications Nos 43370/04, 8252/05 and 18454/06, 19 October 2012.
[12] Sandu and Others v. the Republic of Moldova and Russia, nos. 21034/05, 3 December 2018, paras. 32-39.
[13] PACE, Unlimited access to member States, including “grey zones”, by Council of Europe and United Nations human rights monitoring bodies, Resolution 2240 (2018), http://assembly.coe.int/nw/xml/XRef/Xref-DocDetails-EN.asp?fileid=25168
[14] This part of the essay draws on viewpoints presented at a Norwegian Helsinki Committee (NHC) two-day conference in December 2018, gathering around 35 human rights defenders, lawyers and journalists from de facto states. The conference aimed at mapping human rights problems and fostering cooperation between activists, lawyers and journalists. The conference was part of an NHC program of annual Anna Politkovskaya meetings, in commemoration of the brave Russian journalist that was killed in 2006 because of her work in Chechnya. The seminar was entitled: “Secession from the Soviet Union continues – 10 years after the war in Georgia. What is the price of independence?”
[15] Freedom House, Freedom in the world 2019: Abkhazia, https://freedomhouse.org/report/freedom-world/2019/abkhazia
[16] Caucasian Knot, “Detainee's death raises problem of torture in Abkhazia”, 3 August 2019, https://www.eng.kavkaz-uzel.eu/articles/48010/
[17] A recent example of valuable international human rights reporting from de facto states is, Thomas Hammarberg and Magdalena Grono, Human Rights in Abkhazia Today, July 2017, https://www.palmecenter.se/en/article/palmecenter-publishes-first-independent-report-human-rights-abkhazia/
[post_title] => Human rights behind unsettled borders [post_excerpt] => [post_status] => publish [comment_status] => open [ping_status] => open [post_password] => [post_name] => human-rights-behind-unsettled-borders [to_ping] => [pinged] => [post_modified] => 2019-09-26 09:13:50 [post_modified_gmt] => 2019-09-26 09:13:50 [post_content_filtered] => [post_parent] => 0 [guid] => https://fpc.org.uk/?p=4030 [menu_order] => 0 [post_type] => post [post_mime_type] => [comment_count] => 0 [filter] => raw ) [32] => WP_Post Object ( [ID] => 4026 [post_author] => 38 [post_date] => 2019-09-26 09:09:14 [post_date_gmt] => 2019-09-26 09:09:14 [post_content] =>There are several Eastern European states within the Council of Europe where as a consequence of a frozen or active armed conflict, or annexation, the title-bearing state is unable to govern a part of its territory. The state’s sovereignty in that area is disputed by another State or a non-State entity, at times the two acting in concert. Just over six million individuals live in these contested regions of Eastern Europe: Transnistria, Donbas, Crimea, Nagorno-Karabakh, Abkhazia and South Ossetia. They often fall victim to violations of human rights from the effects of armed conflicts, political isolation and repressive measures of de facto authorities, with limited access to legal remedies both on the national level and internationally.[1]
The nature of these de facto authorities, and the modalities by which they exercise control over the respective territory, differs.[2] They might comprise organs of another state acting directly through occupation. This is the case for Crimea, annexed by Russia in March 2014 and claimed as part of the Federation, with its institutions and administration already embedded in this Ukrainian peninsula.[3] In the case of South Ossetia and Abkhazia, which claimed their independence from Georgia after the armed conflicts of the early 1990s, the local authorities are highly organised entities that receive key military and economic support from Russia.[4] Both territories claim independence, which was recognised by Russia following the 2008 Russia-Georgia war.[5]
The separatist ‘Moldavian Republic of Transdniestria’ (MRT), a breakaway territory of Moldova that formed following another armed conflict of the 1990s, arguably remains under the effective control of Russia.[6] In East Ukraine, where the armed conflict is ongoing between Ukraine’s armed forces and the so-called Lugansk and Donetsk People’s Republics (LNR and DNR), Russia also plays a key role in sustaining the separatists’ territorial control and public administration.[7] Frequent flare-ups of violence, with a major escalation culminating in a ‘four-day war’ in 2016 characterise the situation of Nagorno-Karabakh, the de jure territory of Azerbaijan under the effective control of Armenia.[8] Except for Crimea, which is a de facto part of Russia, all of the disputed territories function as de facto States but are not recognised as such by the international community, thus falling short of statehood within the meaning of public international law.
This contribution addresses the international law aspects of responsibility for violations of international human rights law committed in Eastern Europe’s ‘grey zones’[9] –parts of territories of Moldova, Ukraine, Azerbaijan and Georgia under the control of another State or a non-State entity. It provides an overview of the human rights obligations of non-State actors and States vis-à-vis the individuals in the ‘grey zones’. It argues the contested natureof these ‘grey zones’ under public international law, arising among others from disputed statehood and territorial control, results in the fragmentation of human rights obligations between state and non-state actors, causing ambiguities and gaps with respect to the attribution of international responsibility for violations. This essay examines these gaps in light of the available mechanisms of redress on the international level against both individuals and entities that commit war crimes, crimes against humanity and other abuses, and suggests gap-filling alternatives.
The territorial scope of human rights obligations of states
Human rights are internationally guaranteed entitlements of individuals vis-à-vis states and quasi-state entities. They are laid down in universal and regional human rights treaties or in customary law and entail both negative and positive obligations.[10] The obligation to respect human rights is the negative obligation of the State to not interfere with the enjoyment of rights. Positive obligations include: the duty to protect individuals from threats emanating from private actors, agents acting ultra vires and agents of third states; and to fulfil human rights, to ensure that they are realised in practice as comprehensively as possible, i.e. by the adoption of legislative or administrative measures in order to establish the legal, institutional and procedural basis for their full realisation.[11]
Treaty law has become the main and most important source of human rights law from which international human rights protection is derived.[12] For member states of the Council of Europe, a regional treaty – the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR) – prescribes the fundamental individual rights and authorises the European Court of Human Rights (ECtHR) to issue binding decisions on their implementation. The scope of corresponding state obligations is usually expressed in the jurisdictional clauses of treaties, which require state organs and agents to secure the rights contained therein to all individuals within their territory or jurisdiction.[13] Notably, the mechanisms of protection established by the ECHR are subsidiary to the national systems safeguarding human rights. Thus, an individual or legal entity whose Convention rights have been violated must exhaust all available domestic remedies before seizing the European Court, unless such remedies are inadequate or ineffective.[14]
The breach of treaty obligations could give rise to two levels of international responsibility for violations of human rights or international humanitarian law – individual and state. For instance, if a member of the armed forces of a state commits a crime against humanity on the territory of a state that has ratified the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court (ICC), they could face individual criminal responsibility at the ICC and the state’s international responsibility could be engaged in an international forum like the ECtHR. In the areas being explored by this publication only Georgia and Moldova are State Parties to the Rome Statute[15] although Ukraine has accepted the jurisdiction of the ICC to attempt to prosecute international crimes on its territory (specifically the events pertaining to the Maidan protests, Donbass and Crimea) since 2014.[16]
The question of international responsibility, particularly that of entities, becomes more muddled when the title-bearing State is unable to exercise control over a part of its own territory due to occupation by another state or loss of territorial control to a rebel movement. While any individual, whether a representative of a state organ or an armed group combatant, remains subject to criminal prosecution, which state (or another entity) does then bear responsibility for the violations that these agents commit? Is it the territorial State that retains de jure jurisdiction over the territory in question? The de facto non-state authorities that are controlling the territory? Or is it the third State that is controlling the territory directly or through a proxy? Is it some kind of a combination of the above? In any of these scenarios, what is the extent of the obligations of such an authority and what is the corresponding responsibility?
General international law offers no guidance on treaty obligations once a state loses effective control over a part of its territory, other than stipulating that treaties apply to the entire territory of a ratifying state.[17] International human rights law has recognised circumstances where the term ‘jurisdiction’ could expand another state’s obligations extraterritorially, such as to an area over which that state has effective overall control.[18] In the jurisprudence of the ECtHR on the determination of what constitutes ‘jurisdiction’ within the meaning of Article 1 of the ECHR, the Court had initially interpreted the threshold criterion triggering an international obligation vis-à-vis the individual plaintiff to mean that there was a presumption that the State had control over all of the territory to which it had title, but that presumption was rebuttable on the facts.[19] In Cyprus v. Turkey, the Court held that a presumption of Cyprus’ jurisdiction over northern Cyprus was rebutted because the presence of Turkish troops on the ground prevented Cypriot authorities from exercising actual jurisdiction in the part of the island under occupation.[20] Turkey was therefore held to have extraterritorial jurisdiction in northern Cyprus and consequently obligations under the ECHR.[21]
The Court took a markedly different approach in a series of cases dealing with Transdniestria. In Ilasçu v Moldova and Russia, it held that in situations where the state is prevented from exercising its authority in part of its territory as a result of military occupation or ‘the acts of a foreign State supporting the installation of a separatist state within the territory of the state concerned,’ the initial presumption of territorial jurisdiction of the title-bearing state is not rebutted but limited to its positive obligations.[22] These included the obligation ‘to take diplomatic, economic, judicial or other measures that it is in its power to take and are in accordance with international law to secure to the applicants the rights guaranteed by the Convention.’[23] Importantly, the Court held that the applicants concurrently fell within Russia’s jurisdiction, which was extraterritorial and existed because Transdniestria remained ‘under [its] effective authority, or at the very least under [its] decisive influence.’[24] This same approach was reiterated by the Court several years later in Catan.[25]
In the more recent case of Chiragov, involving Nagorno-Karabakh and brought against Armenia (a companion case, Sargsyan, was brought separately against Azerbaijan), the Court used the same ‘decisive influence’ language to describe the relationship between Armenia and the disputed territory, holding that ‘its administration survives by virtue of the military, political, financial and other support given to it by Armenia which, consequently, exercises effective control over Nagorno‑Karabakh. The matters complained of therefore come within the jurisdiction of Armenia for the purposes of Article 1 of the Convention.’[26]
Notably, in all of the above cases the Court did not clarify whether Russia or Armenia had exercised effective control over the de facto authorities or directly over the territory in question, apparently imposing responsibility on the non-title-bearing states by virtue of their overall effective control and ‘decisive influence’ in local governance.[27]
The gaps and ambiguities concerning the respective obligations of the state and non-state actors
The Transdniestria and Nagorno-Karabakh series of cases expose several gaps and ambiguities in the flow of human rights obligations to respect, protect and fulfil human rights. First, in the absence of effective control of the territory by the sovereign, or a third state by virtue of the latter’s control over the de facto authorities or directly over the contested territory, the negative obligations to respect human rights must rest exclusively in the hands of non-state entities (NSEs). There is an increasing recognition under international law that NSEs exercising government-like functions and control over a territory must respect human rights when their conduct affects the human rights of individuals under their control.[28] Indeed, according to Resolution 2240 on access to ‘grey zones’ by Council of Europe and UN human rights monitoring bodies, the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe (PACE) considers that: the exercise of de facto authority brings with it a duty to respect the rights of all inhabitants of the territory in question, as those rights would otherwise be respected by the authorities of the State of which the territory in question is a part; even illegitimate assumption of powers of the State must be accompanied by assumption of the corresponding responsibilities of the State towards its inhabitants.[29]
However, the consequences of breaching the obligations are unclear. Quasi-state entities cannot become parties to human rights treaties, and there are currently no enforcement mechanisms, either penal or civil in nature, to hold NSEs responsible for human rights abuses under international law.[30] In a potential case at the ECtHR or the UN Human Rights Committee from South Ossetia, Abkhazia or Eastern Ukraine, the relevant body’s finding that Russia does not exercise effective control over any of these territories or the NSEs that control them (which is, admittedly, unlikely) would therefore eliminate any available recourse in an international forum.[31] This is significant because outside of the human rights law field, private individuals have no access to interstate and supranational procedures, save for victim proceedings at the ICC, and can only assert their rights under international law before domestic courts, their own or those of third countries, provided that the rights have been incorporated into the relevant national legislation.
Moreover, although the ECtHR, through its doctrine of extraterritorial jurisdiction, has ensured that individual applicants and states can in some circumstances bring cases from or concerning some ‘grey zones’, problems inevitably arise with the implementation of the Court’s decisions. Indeed, the ECtHR is not able to address judgments to the de facto authorities of the territory, which nevertheless bear the primary responsibility for the enforcement of laws. Moreover, the Court does not recognise as legitimate courts the ones established by the de facto authorities.[32]
Secondly, the suggested fragmentation by the ECtHR of obligations between territorial States, with none or limited residual obligations, third states, with all positive and negative obligations (like in cases of occupation) or situations of limited extraterritorial obligations, and de facto authorities, offers very little practical guidance to the title-bearing states on which actions they must undertake to fulfil their limited obligations. In other words, it remains unclear just what kind of diplomatic, economic, and judicial measures states like Georgia and Ukraine might adopt that would discharge their obligation vis-à-vis the territory they no longer control, leading to further uncertainty among both legislators and the local populations as to the protections they should be, or are currently, afforded.
Thirdly, the lack of clarity with respect to which state, if any, has jurisdiction over the particular claimant, complicates the victims’ ability to pursue and exhaust domestic remedies for the purposes of then seizing international judicial or quasi-judicial mechanisms, such as the ECtHR or the UN Human Rights Committee. The ECtHR took a very relaxed approach to the question of non-exhaustion of effective domestic remedies for admissibility purposes in the Nagorno-Karabakh case of Chiragov, where virtually no engagement by Azerbaijan with the territory remained.[33] This will not be such an easy case with Donbas, South Ossetia and Abkhazia types of cases, where despite the significant influence and control exercised over the territories by Russia,[34] the engagement with the territories, and hence the number of residual obligations by Ukraine and Georgia, respectively, remains quite high.[35] Depending on the particular violation in question, it might therefore not be immediately clear to a regular citizen where the domestic remedy should best be pursued.
Conclusion
The legal ambiguity surrounding the ‘grey zones’ impedes the ability of their populations to systematically access international justice mechanisms. While it is possible to address communications and complaints to the likes of the ICC, the ECtHR, and the UN Human Rights Committee, at least in theory, residents of some of the ‘grey zones’ are often unable to seize these mechanisms in practice due to the lack of clarity regarding which entity to pursue legally, which courts to turn to for the exhaustion of domestic remedies, and the applicable legal framework. The judgments concerning ‘grey zones’ are likely more difficult to enforce.
International criminal law makes it possible to hold officials directly accountable for grave human rights violations that amount to war crimes, crimes against humanity or other international crimes. While states could also be held responsible for human rights violations, there is a lacuna with respect to international responsibility of entities. In this situation, the best option remains for victims to pursue remedies in domestic courts in third countries based on universal jurisdiction, which permits prosecution of individuals, and, importantly, entities, for international crimes regardless of territorial ties. The penal prosecution of political parties and other organisations, including highly organised armed groups, private military companies and corporations, might be one aspect of organisational responsibility that has been consistently overlooked by victims, lawyers and NGOs seeking to engage the responsibility of violators.
The use of sanctions, including the likes of
the Global Magnitsky Acts in the US, Canada and other countries, against both
individuals and entities is another ‘borderless’ action that might bring a
measure of justice to victims of human rights abuses and curtail the abuses.[36]
Lastly, international organisations and other interested parties should submit amicus
curae communications to international enforcement mechanisms, such as the
ECtHR, the CoE Committee of Ministers, the ICC and any ad hoc criminal
tribunal, expressing the need for clearer delineation of obligations and
responsibilities between de facto and de jure authorities,
including reverting to the all or nothing Cyprus v. Turkey approach.
Author's bio: Ilya Nuzov is the Head of Eastern Europe and Central Asia Desk at the International Federation for Human Rights. Previously, he was Legal Adviser at the International Center for Transitional Justice and Researcher/Teaching Assistant at the Geneva Academy of International Humanitarian Law and Human Rights, where he also earned his LL.M. He has published on various aspects of international human rights law, international humanitarian law and transitional justice, with a focus on Eastern Europe. Ilya is a U.S. lawyer admitted to the New York bar.
[1] Maksym Khylko, Oleksandr Tytarchuk. 2018. Russia-Ukraine conflict: What can the OSCE do? Proposals for Slovakia’s 2019 OSCE Chairmanship. Slovak Foreign Policy Association. Frozen ground: Role of the OSCE in protracted conflicts: Recommendations for Slovak OSCE Chairmanship: 21.
[2] Marko Milanovic and Tatjana Papic, The Applicability of the ECHR in Contested Territories, International and Comparative Law Quarterly, Forthcoming, July 2018, https://ssrn.com/abstract=3207716
[3] General Assembly resolution 68/262, Territorial Integrity of Ukraine, A/RES/68/262, March 2014, https://undocs.org/A/RES/68/262
[4] Turashvili, Medea. 2018. Conflicts in Georgia: Learning lessons, exploring alternative options. Slovak Foreign Policy Association Frozen ground: Role of the OSCE in protracted conflicts: Recommendations for Slovak OSCE Chairmanship: 26.
[5] RFE/RL, Russia Recognizes Abkhazia and South Ossetia, RadioFreeEurope/RadioLiberty, August 2008, https://www.rferl.org/a/Russia_Recognizes_Abkhazia_South_Ossetia/1193932.html
[6] ECtHR, Judgment, Catan and Others v. Moldova and Russia, (Application nos. 43370/04, 8252/05 and 18454/06), 19 October 2012, para. 122., http://hudoc.echr.coe.int/eng?i=001-114082
[7] de Waal, Thomas. 2018. Uncertain Ground: Engaging With Europe’s De Facto states and Breakaway Territories. Carnegie Endowment for International Peace: 66.
[8] ECtHR, Judgment, Chiragov and others v. Armenia, (Application no. 13216/05), 16 June 2015, para. 186.
[9] Council of Europe and United Nations human rights monitoring bodies. 2018. Unlimited access to member States, including ‘grey zones’. Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe Resolution 2240. The Republic of Cyprus also falls within this category of States with part of its territory, Northern Cyprus, occupied by Turkey.
[10] Nowak, Manfred. 2003. Introduction to the International Human Rights Regime. Martinus Nijhoff Publishers/Brill Academic: Leiden/Boston.
[11] Kälin, Walter and Kunzli, Jorg. 2011. The Law of International Human RightsProtection. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
[12] Ibid.
[13] See e.g. Article 2 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights: Each State Party to the present Covenant undertakes to respect and to ensure to all individuals within its territory and subject to its jurisdiction the rights recognised in the present Covenant. By contrast, Article 1 of the ECHR provides that ‘[t]he High Contracting Parties shall secure to everyone within their jurisdiction the rights and freedoms defined in the Convention.'
[14] Article 35, ECHR; ECtHR, Judgment, Chiragov and others v. Armenia, (Application no. 13216/05), 16 June 2015, para. 166, http://hudoc.echr.coe.int/eng?i=001-155353
[15] International Criminal Court, The States Parties to the Rome Statute https://asp.icc-cpi.int/en_menus/asp/states%20parties/Pages/the%20states%20parties%20to%20the%20rome%20statute.aspx
[16] International Criminal Court, Preliminary examination: Ukraine https://www.icc-cpi.int/ukraine
[17] Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties, Art. 29, UNTS vol. 1155: 331.
[18] See generally Milanovic, Marko. 2011. Extraterritorial Application of Human Rights Treaties: Law, Principles, and Policy. Oxford: Oxford University Press. This is particularly the case with respect to the jurisprudence of the European Court of Human Rights. See ECtHR, Judgement, Al-Skeini et al. v. the United Kingdom, (Application no. 55721/07), 7 July 2011, paras. 133-140, http://hudoc.echr.coe.int/eng?i=001-105606
[19] Milanovic, supra no. 2, p. 8.
[20] ECtHR, Judgment, Cyprus v Turkey, (Application no. 25781/94), 10 May 2001, paras. 77-78, http://hudoc.echr.coe.int/eng?i=001-144151
[21] Ibid.
[22] ECtHR, Judgement, Ilasçu et al. v Moldova and Russia, (Application no. 48787/99), 8 July 2004, paras. 312, 331-333, http://hudoc.echr.coe.int/eng?i=001-61886
[23] Ibid. para. 334.
[24] Ibid. paras. 314-316, 392.
[25] The Court found Russia responsible for the acts of separatist authorities because Russia maintained its effective control over Transdniestria, while Moldova retained residual positive obligations that it fulfilled with respect to the applicants. Se e Catan, supra no. 6, paras. 121-123, 145-148, http://hudoc.echr.coe.int/eng?i=001-114082
[26] ECtHR, Judgment, Chiragov and others v. Armenia, (Application no. 13216/05), 16 June 2015, para. 186, http://hudoc.echr.coe.int/eng?i=001-155353
[27] Milanovic, supra no. 2, p. 15.
[28] Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights, Accountability for killings in Ukraine from January 2014 to May 2016, Report: para. 12. See also Clapham, Andrew. (2006). Human Rights Obligations of Non-State Actors. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
[29] Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe, Resolution 2240 (2018), Unlimited access to member States, including “grey zones”, by Council of Europe and United Nations human rights monitoring bodies, http://assembly.coe.int/nw/xml/XRef/Xref-XML2HTML-EN.asp?fileid=25168&lang=en
[30] One notable exception being the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities. UN General Assembly, Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities resolution adopted by the General Assembly, January 2007, A/RES/61/106, https://www.refworld.org/docid/45f973632.html
[31] This lacuna was exemplified by the ECtHR case of Azemi v Serbia, (Application no. 11209/09), 5 November 2013, where the Court held that Serbia lacked jurisdiction over the applicant in Kosovo.
[32] See e.g. ECtHR, Judgment, Ilascu and others v Moldova and Russia, (Application no. 48787/99), 8 July 2004, para. 436.
[33] ECtHR, Judgment, Chiragov and others v. Armenia, (Application no. 13216/05), 16 June 2015, para. 119.
[34] According to some commentators, it amounts to effective control and Russia’s occupation of the territories. Tsagareishvili, Nino. 2019. Zone of Barbed Wires: Mass Human Rights Violations along the Dividing Lines of Abkhazia and South Ossetia. Human Rights Center: p. 40.
[35] de Waal, supra no. 7, p. 28.
[36] For its description, see US State Department, Global Magnitsky Act, https://www.state.gov/e/eb/tfs/spi/globalmagnitsky/
[post_title] => Between frontiers: The ambiguous status of the ‘grey zones’ of Eastern Europe under international human rights law [post_excerpt] => [post_status] => publish [comment_status] => open [ping_status] => open [post_password] => [post_name] => between-frontiers-the-ambiguous-status-of-the-grey-zones-of-eastern-europe-under-international-human-rights-law [to_ping] => [pinged] => [post_modified] => 2019-09-26 09:13:29 [post_modified_gmt] => 2019-09-26 09:13:29 [post_content_filtered] => [post_parent] => 0 [guid] => https://fpc.org.uk/?p=4026 [menu_order] => 0 [post_type] => post [post_mime_type] => [comment_count] => 0 [filter] => raw ) [33] => WP_Post Object ( [ID] => 4022 [post_author] => 38 [post_date] => 2019-09-26 09:08:31 [post_date_gmt] => 2019-09-26 09:08:31 [post_content] =>A number of territories on Europe’s eastern fringe have existed as de facto political entities outside the jurisdiction of the metropoles from which they separated in a time of internal conflict. They remain largely unrecognised, their sovereignty still claimed by the country from which they have separated, but continue to exist thanks to a larger patron state that offers protection. That patron state being, in all cases except one, Russia. The term de facto often in itself causes controversy, embroiling, as Laurence Broers argues, “any writer in a dangerous game of linguistic choices that tend to be profoundly ‘win-lose’”, but one which is “the least inaccurate and the least offensive”.[1]
The break-up of the Soviet Union in December 1991 was unexpected and for some international actors, as well as many Union subjects such as the Abkhaz and the Central Asian Republics, even undesirable. It raised the spectre of chaos, nuclear proliferation, large scale ethnic conflicts and instability in the international system. The response of the international community was to move swiftly in recognising the USSR’s fifteen Union Republics as independent states with their borders as defined by Soviet law. During this period of political uncertainty and confusion there were various attempts by entities and groups within the Union Republics to secede, using sometimes political and sometimes violent means. Their claims were based on long simmering ethnic tensions and elite rivalries.[2] Most attempts were contained or fizzled out once the political situation stabilised, and claims for independence or boundary changes that were not mutually agreed were rebuffed by the international community. Four entities that emerged from the chaos of the time have however survived, and maintain a de facto existence: Abkhazia and South Ossetia that seceded from Georgia, Nagorno-Karabakh which seceded from Azerbaijan and Transnistria that seceded from Moldova. Increasingly, they clamour for international recognition, with their longevity often cited as one of the reasons why it now needs to be considered. After the 2013-4 Maidan crisis in Ukraine, two other entities joined the list of Europe’s unrecognised states: the Donetsk People’s Republic and the Lugansk People’s Republic, both located in the mainly Russian-speaking Donbas region of Eastern Ukraine, and both midwifed and protected by Russia.[3]
Equally vocal, and ostensibly with international law behind them, the four metropoles from which these territories forcefully seceded continue to claim sovereignty over them and to reject, with some different nuances, external engagement with what they consider as their internal subjects existing in a state of illegality.
Recently, the debate as to if and how to engage with these entities has intensified. Many arguments are put forward to make the case. One that is increasingly heard is that the supposedly pan-continental values that underpin European political culture, as embedded in the documents and agreements of the Council of Europe and the Organisation for Security and Co-operation in Europe (OSCE), are not being applied in these politically grey areas on the map, and that engagement to uphold these values is necessary. In some ways one can see this as the start of building a case for a European solution to this European problem, an argument that has much merit, yet is not as simple as is sometimes assumed.
The position of the Russian Federation
Central to the discussion about the future of these territories is the position of the Russian Federation. Initially its position was more closely aligned to that of the international community, formally accepting the boundaries of the Union Republics within the USSR as final;[4] this not least because Russia itself had its own secessionist problems in Chechnya. By 2008 however, that problem had been contained through a war of re-conquest in 1999-2000 and the subsequent rule of Ramzan Kadyrov, the Head of the Chechen Republic, as well as the short Georgia – Russia war in August 2008, which offered an opportunity for the policy to be reviewed. To the surprise of many, including those within the Russian political elite, Russia formally recognised the independence of Abkhazia and South Ossetia in autumn 2008, and exchanged ambassadors with the two entities. A handful of other countries followed suit. The other post-Soviet states looked at this development with considerable trepidation, and none followed the Russian example.
In 2014 following political turmoil in Ukraine, Russia occupied and annexed Crimea. It also instigated and supported the violent secession of two entities in the Donbas region of Eastern Ukraine. Russia’s end game in the Donbas is yet unclear, probably because the Kremlin itself has not yet decided how far to take this, and in which direction. Russia’s policy has come at considerable costs, not only due to the western sanctions that it triggered. It has stimulated nationalist, and specifically anti-Russian feeling in the former Soviet republics affected. It has made countries like Georgia and Ukraine committed to join North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO), and it has made the prospect of a ‘USSR 2.0’ in either a military, economic or political sense, let alone all three, all but impossible.
Whilst Russia goes a long way in trying to project itself as the peacemaker in the conflicts on its European border, most of the international community increasingly see Russia as the trouble-maker, and an obstacle to progress in the resolution of the conflicts. Russia’s recognition of Abkhazia and South Ossetia as independent states, its annexation of Crimea, and its overt and covert military involvement in the trouble in the Donbas have robbed Russia of any legitimacy. In all contexts it remains however a key player with considerable influence throughout the region. In the separatist entities (except Nagorno-Karabakh where the role is played by Armenia), on most issues, it still holds a veto on key internal matters, and not least on any external engagement with the territories that are under its protection. Russia plays a multifaceted role, as both peacemaker and trouble-maker. Under president Yeltsin this was often attributed to the weakness of the state, and the confusion within the state-structures. Under president Putin however this confusion has been turned into an art, not least when it comes to peace processes. Russia is involved in all peace processes related to the unrecognised states. Indeed, the conventional wisdom is that no peace process can succeed without the involvement of Russia. Very often however Russia pursues both a multilateral, as well as a bilateral track. For example, on Nagorno-Karabakh Russia is a co-chair of the OSCE Minsk Process, but has, since 2008, pursued a bilateral parallel negotiation track which it switches on and off according to convenience. This apart from lavishly supplying Armenia and Azerbaijan with billions of dollars of modern weaponry. The Russian strategy is only coherent and understandable from the Russian prism of wanting to maintain a privileged position in the former Soviet space – a constant and strongly held aspiration of all post-Communist Russian leaders.
The road to membership of the exclusive club of states
The international system remains state-based, despite many arguments about why the state is an inadequate form of authority in the face of contemporary global challenges such as climate change. The club of states has grown since WWII, but remains exclusive. Membership of the United Nations (UN) is the ultimate measure of statehood. At present there are 193 full members.[5] However, ever since the UN was established there have always been states that, for one reason or other have not quite made it to UN membership, or at least not immediately; either because their legitimacy was contested, or because they were considered not being in control of their foreign policy, or because the UN seat was claimed by rival governments. There are two sets of de facto states that initially were refused, or did not even seek UN membership, but that eventually made it to the exclusive club of nations, from which some comparisons can be made to the current de facto post-Soviet states, and from which equally some lessons can be drawn.
The first set is that of the micro states of Europe: Andorra, Monaco, Liechtenstein and San Marino. They existed de facto but they had by and large delegated their foreign policy to their larger neighbours. There was therefore no consensus on their UN membership.[6] Surprisingly however they were invited to join the Conference for Security and Co-operation in Europe in 1973. Monaco, Liechtenstein and San Marino signed the Helsinki Final Act in 1975, Andorra doing so belatedly in 1996. Soon after they joined the UN.
Beyond Europe is the case of Oman and the Persian Gulf Sheikhdoms, sometimes referred to as the ‘Trucial States’. The United Kingdom (UK) maintained that these were sovereign entities that had delegated their foreign policy to the UK by treaty in return for protection. It managed its relations with them through the Foreign Office not the Colonial Office. These states did not seek UN membership, but one or two of them sought relations with the Arab League, a prospect looked at with much disdain by the protecting power, even bringing about the forced deposition of one of them, the Ruler of Sharjah, in 1965.[7] Eventually, in 1971, as a result of Britain’s East of Suez policy, and after patching up relations with the larger neighbours, Saudi Arabia and Iran, four states emerged – Bahrain, Qatar, the United Arab Emirates and Oman – all of which soon became UN members. In both these sets of examples resolving issues with the larger neighbours and assuming control of foreign policy – de facto and de jure – was considered an important prerequisite before full membership of the club of nations was possible. In the case of the post-Soviet de facto states the first premise is absent, and the second is in question.
The case for non-recognition
Georgia, Azerbaijan, Moldova and Ukraine have forcefully and energetically, and by and large successfully, argued against international recognition of the territories that have seceded from them. No European state – European Union (EU) members and others alike – have joined Russia in recognising any of the entities. On a global level only a handful of small states have broken the international consensus. So in many respects the case for non-recognition has been successful, even when one compares it to Kosovo, whose sovereignty remains disputed by some, but whose independence has been recognised by more than one hundred and fourteen UN member states.[8]
The case for non-engagement is however less clear, and this is where most discussion is currently ongoing. The metropoles have adopted different approaches to the issue of engagement – Moldova and Georgia being more receptive to engagement, as long as it is with their acquiescence and without anything that could be seen as recognition. Azerbaijan has taken a more hard-line position, seeking largely unsuccessfully not only to prevent diplomatic recognition, but also to impose complete isolation. Ukraine’s position is somewhere in between. The key argument of the metropolitan states is territorial integrity – one of the key principles of international law and enshrined in the Helsinki Final Act. Added to this is the moral argument, since as they point out, several of the current de facto authorities in the separatist entities rule in a context where they have ethnically cleansed their territories of those who share the ethnicity of the majority in the metropole state. The four metropolitan countries insist that the situation in the separatist entities is one of illegality and criminality, abetted by other states – Armenia in the case of Nagorno-Karabakh, and Russia in the case of the others. For example, for many years after the 9/11 al Qaeda attacks in the United States (US) visiting delegations in Baku were told by Azerbaijani officials that Osama bin Laden was taking refuge in Nagorno-Karabakh, citing this as an example of the state of illegality in the territory. Georgian officials furthermore say that Abkhazia and South Ossetia are in fact territories under Russian occupation, and any recognition and engagement that does not have Georgian endorsement is paramount to legitimising this occupation.
The four metropolitan countries dedicate a lot of their foreign policy energy and resources to upholding their claims. Azerbaijan has taken the matter a step further, putting together a public black list of persons who visit Nagorno-Karabakh without Baku’s permission, and even on one occasion issuing an international arrest warrant against someone who did.
The case for engagement
The case for engagement with the de facto states has been made forcefully, and in many ways convincingly, both by their own leaderships, by lobbying groups who support their cause, by the governments of their patron states, and more recently by an increasing number of western academics and experts, who have criticised the inertia of the international community, particularly European institutions such as the EU and the Council of Europe.
The demands of these groups however are not the same. The first cluster: the leadership of the de facto states, their very vocal lobbying groups in Europe and the US, and their patron states – push for political engagement and diplomatic recognition. They base their arguments on the principle of self-determination, a principle that is also recognised in the Helsinki Final Act.
However, even within this cluster, there are important differences. The Russian government wants as many countries as possible to follow its lead and give full diplomatic recognition to Abkhazia and South Ossetia. On the self-styled Nagorno-Karabakh Republic (NKR), Armenia, the Armenian diaspora communities and the NKR leadership itself, have a more modest immediate objective, namely that of securing political recognition, short of full diplomatic relations, which they say can come later. This is partly due to the fact that there are different opinions within the Armenian world as to whether the end game for Nagorno-Karabakh should be independence or unification with Armenia. Armenia itself has stopped short of recognising NKR. The republics of the Donbas are not currently actively seeking diplomatic recognition.[9] The de facto authorities in Transnistria, whilst well entrenched for nearly three decades, are much more open to contacts with and through Chisinau.
Within the school of thought in the West that is increasingly clamouring for more engagement, there are also important nuances.
Some argue for full engagement, and say that it is in the interest of the West to be in with the population of the de facto states and not to leave the field exclusively to the Russians. They say that through a strategy of constructive ambiguity the issue of diplomatic recognition can be bypassed. They often support their argument with the claim that what the de facto states are seeking is something less than full independence with a seat in the UN. For example, Thomas de Waal argues that ‘In some of these cases at least, there is an ambition not so much for statehood as for state-like agency’.[10] He argues that the aspiration of statehood can usefully be seen as seeking to minimise uncertainty ‘by providing citizens the certainty that comes with rules based government’.[11] In South Ossetia, Nagorno-Karabakh and Donbas the political elites pushing for secession were mainly irredentist, and independence was seen as a step towards unification with a third country. As Giorgio Comai argues, ‘independence may actually be perceived as a second-best option’, and that in fact what they are seeking is further integration with their patron state. In this he argues they are behaving similarly to small-sized dependent jurisdictions in other parts of the world.[12] From the perspective of the metropolitan states this argument is however disingenuous since unification/annexation by another state is considered even worse than secession towards independence. Equally, in the case of Abkhazia it is difficult to accept that the ultimate objective of the Abkhaz political elite is not full independence. Whilst at first sight this strategy of full engagement may appear to be clear and attractive, what ensued has been a series of half-measures and political fudge, leaving everyone concerned subsequently dissatisfied.
An alternative perspective warns against recognition, or steps that may be interpreted as such, especially as it may send the wrong signals for future aggressive separatism. Those holding this view criticise the ‘constructive ambiguity’ approach since they say this creates a lot of mistrust and makes the metropolitan states more resolute to reject engagement. They warn against the danger of legitimising cases of ethnic cleansing. They however equally reject some of the positions of the metropole states as counter-productive – creating in the de facto states a siege mentality and allowing grey areas to develop where human rights violations go unnoticed, as well as subjecting the local populations to unacceptable suffering and isolation. They argue for engagement on clearly defined and transparent rules in areas such as humanitarian assistance, human rights and conflict resolution.
Countries and institutions have largely adopted a case by case approach, creating some confusion. Already having challenges explaining why the case of Kosovo is different from that of Abkhazia, they find themselves also having to explain why South Ossetia is different from Nagorno-Karabakh. Many feel that a measure of consistency is necessary if policies are to be credible. Whilst everybody now seems to agree that humanitarian engagement with de facto states is necessary, no such consensus existed in the 1990s when the humanitarian situation in Chechnya was desperate. Accusations of double standards are not only often heard, they are also often justified.
The next steps
The discussion on engagement with the de facto states in Europe needs to move forward. It needs to be about how to engage, not if to engage, since a measure of engagement is both necessary and inevitable. However, the argument for constructive ambiguity is flawed, as it will only lead to increased suspicion on the part of the metropolitan countries of these actions being a first step towards full recognition. Engagement must also be articulated in a wider context which will require the disputed subjects to engage in bona fide ways with the efforts to resolve the conflicts from which they have emerged, and to address the key humanitarian problems arising from their current status, namely the displacement of large numbers of persons due to their ethnicity.
Discussions on engagement need also to take into account the stark reality that Russia, as the protecting power in all but one of the territories, is unlikely to allow any engagement that it sees as in any way threatening to its monopoly of power – and not least in the present reality, the security of its military installations – in the de facto entities.
All of this requires a framework, which for the moment is lacking. Institutions like the EU and the Council of Europe can provide such a framework as long as they have a consistent policy on the issues, and the political will to see it through.
A European solution for these European problems can work if the centre of attention is people rather than territory or ethno-political state structures. In this the European institutions need to draw a clear line in terms of how far they are ready to go to protect the rights of individual Europeans who happen to be living in de facto but unrecognised states, and force the issue regardless of the protests of those involved, which are likely to be both the metropolitan states and the de facto states. Initially it is likely that any European action will be largely symbolic – the capacity of the European institutions to impose their will, even if they wanted to or if it was desirable to do so, is limited. But there are actions that can be taken unilaterally by institutions such as the EU and the Council of Europe, including on the movement of people, access to education, etc. Because of its decision-making process, which gives the right of veto to all 57 member states, the OSCE is in a much more difficult position to override the opinion of Russia on the one hand, and the metropolitan states on the other. It should however be the forum where the debate and engagement on the issues should be taking place in a structured manner and with all interested parties somehow engaged.
The grey areas on Europe’s political map are not likely to disappear
soon. It will take a major development – such as the Helsinki process of the
1970s – for the existing ambiguities to be ironed out. The case for a European
solution to what is after all a very European problem is strong. The reality
however is that to a large extent this can only happen with Russia permitting.
In the meantime, clarity and consistency should guide the process of
engagement.
Author's bio: Dr Dennis Sammut is a foreign policy analyst and consultant, with two decades of experience of work in the Caucasus Region and other parts of the Former Soviet Union and the wider Middle East. He is the Director of LINKS (Dialogue-Analysis-Research), and a Member of the Advisory Council of the European Policy Centre in Brussels. He has previously served with the United Nations in Afghanistan, and as a member of the European Union’s Tagliavini Commission on the war in Georgia and as a Trustee of the John Smith Memorial Trust. From 2012-14 he was co-ordinator of OxGAPS, the Oxford Gulf and Arabian Peninsula Studies Forum at Oxford University. He was awarded the OBE in the 2007 New Year’s Honours List for his contribution to the prevention and resolution of conflicts in the South Caucasus.
[1] Broers, Laurence. 2013. Recognising politics in unrecognised states: 20 years of enquiry into the de facto states of the South Caucasus. London: Caucasus Survey Vol 1 No 1: footnote 1 page 71.
[2] For a discussion on how some of the secessionist states articulated their case at the time see Broers, Laurence. 2014. Mirrors to the World: The claims to legitimacy and International recognition of de facto States in the South Caucasus. Brown Journal of World Affairs Vol XX, Issue II: pp. 145-159.
[3] In Crimea a somewhat different situation played out, as Russian backed local political forces immediately asked not for independence but for unification with Russia, a demand that was accepted with speed by the Kremlin.
[4] The role of the Russian establishment in supporting the process of secession in some of the former Union republics in the early days following the dissolution of the USSR has been discussed and speculated on extensively. It is often attributed to the Russian deep state. In Moscow in the mid-1990s the author had long conversations with Russian officials who openly acknowledged the role of the Russian Military intelligence organisation, the GRU, in events in Abkhazia. Russian military bases and facilities were often the main source of supply for secessionist military forces, but support was often more complex. Turpal-ali Atgiriev, former Minister of Security under President Maskhadov’s leadership in secessionist Chechnya in the 1990s told the author that he and other Chechen fighters joined the fighting on the Abkhaz side in the period 1992-4, and that their participation was facilitated by the GRU which caused them considerable concern and soul-searching. Under President Yeltsin the Kremlin either closed its eyes, or felt it did not have the means to stop these process.
[5] List of UN Member States https://www.un.org/en/member-states/
[6] In the inter-war years Liechtenstein application to join the League of Nations was rebuffed by the Soviet Union on the basis that it was too small.
[7] For a full discussion see Sammut, Dennis, End of empire policies, and the politics of local elites : the British exit from South Arabia and the Gulf, 1951-1972, University of Oxford DPhil Thesis 2014 pp. 118-123
[8] Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Kosovo, http://www.mfa-ks.net/al/politika/484/lista-e-njohjeve/484. Niue and Cook islands are also listed but they are not UN members.
[9] With regards to Crimea, Russia presents its annexation as a fait accompli. It does not overtly seek endorsements from third parties, but tries to portray the situation as normal by inviting western personalities to Crimea.
[10] Thomas De Waal, Uncertain grounds: Engaging with Europe’s de facto states and breakaway territories, Brussels: Carnegie Europe, December 2018, https://carnegieeurope.eu/2018/12/03/uncertain-ground-engaging-with-europe-s-de-facto-states-and-breakaway-territories-pub-77823
[11] Ibid.
[12] Comai, Giorgio. 2017. Conceptualising post-Soviet de facto states as dependent jurisdictions. Ethnopolitics Volume 17 Issue 2 (March 2018): pp 181-200
[post_title] => Clarity and consistency versus fudge and constructive ambiguity in the European strategy of engagement with de facto states [post_excerpt] => [post_status] => publish [comment_status] => open [ping_status] => open [post_password] => [post_name] => clarity-and-consistency-versus-fudge-and-constructive-ambiguity-in-the-european-strategy-of-engagement-with-de-facto-states [to_ping] => [pinged] => [post_modified] => 2019-09-26 09:12:59 [post_modified_gmt] => 2019-09-26 09:12:59 [post_content_filtered] => [post_parent] => 0 [guid] => https://fpc.org.uk/?p=4022 [menu_order] => 0 [post_type] => post [post_mime_type] => [comment_count] => 0 [filter] => raw ) [34] => WP_Post Object ( [ID] => 4018 [post_author] => 38 [post_date] => 2019-09-26 09:07:50 [post_date_gmt] => 2019-09-26 09:07:50 [post_content] =>This essay aims to shed light on the situation of non-profit and non-governmental organisations (NGOs) in the ‘unrecognised’ republics of South Caucasus; to present the current problems that civil society is facing; to illuminate the interaction between the non-governmental sector and government structures, in particular the participation of independent observers in local elections using the examples of Abkhazia and Nagorno-Karabakh.
Abkhazia[1]: current challenges for civil society
About 300 NGOs are registered by the Ministry of Justice of Abkhazia, about 100 of them are non-profits. Those organisations that have existed and worked for many years already are the most well-known.
The Sukhum Youth House (SYH) focuses on issues related to education and the use of modern approaches to education for children. This is evidenced by the huge number of children who have participated in various programs implemented by the SYH.[2]
The Association Inva-Assistance helps people with disabilities with their challenges. Over recent years, they have been actively promoting the idea of an accessible environment and an inclusive education system for children with disabilities. Today it is not uncommon to see people in wheelchairs, moving around in Sukhum on their own, and children with disabilities studying in regular schools. This was made possible thanks to the Association´s work.
Domestic violence was, for example, a general taboo until a certain time ago. Abkhazia´s inhabitants did not want to discuss the issue, many denied the existence of such a problem. Today we see that the Caucasian Knot[3] is writing about cases of domestic violence and the topic is being discussed on social networks. The Women’s Association of Abkhazia has been raising this problem for many years, but only recently have they managed to attract the attention of the general public.
The Centre for Humanitarian Programs (CHP[4]) is perhaps the most well-known NGO, including outside the region. The Centre works in different fields including civil education, human rights protection, civic сontrol, and participation in peacemaking dialogue at international platforms. In addition to these areas, the CHP employees actively express their civic position on many other issues as well such as political, environmental, social, and issues related to preservation of historical and cultural heritage, etc. They organise events and public campaigns, and they give their opinion in the media.
There are organisations in the municipalities that are better known among the local population and that mainly aim at working with youth: the Ochamchira Youth House and the Tkuarchal Youth Initiative, for example.
The possibilities to draw people's attention to environmental problems and to the protection of cultural heritage are increasing these days. The population learned, for example, that palm trees in Abkhazia are facing death when civil society began sounding the alarm. As it turned out, public services responsible to deal with environmental issues had been aware of the situation, but did not take any action to save the palm trees. Civil society representatives took the initiative and started the work on saving the palm trees themselves.
It was due to the position of active citizens that it was possible to stop the construction of a restaurant on the Sukhum fortress, which is one of the most important historical and architectural monuments, not only in our capital, but in the whole republic.
NGOs raised the issue concerning the illegitimacy of replacing the process of passport exchange by the procedure of citizenship confirmation in relation to non-Abkhaz ethnic groups. Old passports in Abkhazia are being replaced with new ones, and citizens who are not ethnic Abkhazians are rightly afraid of losing their citizenship as a result of the new rules. The CHP submitted a number of proposals to the Parliament, some of which were adopted, finally allowing certain categories of citizens to exchange their old passports for new ones.
A group of independent civil activists are at present promoting the idea of adopting article 20 of the United Nations (UN) Convention against corruption.[5]
The list of various initiatives undertaken by civil society representatives is long in fact. On the one hand, this is a sign that Abkhaz society is quite conscious and active, on the other hand, this activity indicates a low efficiency of the governance system in the country, which causes concern among the active part of society.
An important element of civic control such as journalistic investigations is practically non-existent in Abkhazia. On the one side, for Abkhazia, this is a risky activity, on the other - even if there were attempts to conduct such investigations they often played into the hands of a certain internal Abkhaz actors. Abkhaz journalism recently became uninteresting. It often suffers from one-sidedness and tendentiousness when covering different events, even though there are exceptions. In general, it lacks analysis, a critical view on the events taking place in and around the country. We must also take into account the growing popularity of social networks, where people get the information they need more quickly than from the media.
Each NGO focuses on a certain group of people which they work with. Some NGOs concentrate on children, others on women in a difficult life situation, others on the disabled, etc.
The CHP runs a network of public human rights reception centers, where lawyers provide free legal assistance to the public. People who sometimes simply do not know how to solve their problems come here every day to receive support in dealing with administrative barriers and problems around the functioning of state bodies.
According to the organisation´s statistics 1,500 requests were received in 2018 alone.[6] The fact that free legal assistance is in great demand nowadays indicates both the imperfection of the governance system and the low level of the population´s legal literacy. Understanding that and taking into account the fact that many people, especially in those areas where the CHP has no stationary reception centers, as well as the inhabitants of remote villages, have difficulties in getting to the CHP offices. Therefore, the organisation also provides mobile consultations.
In many countries, the state supports NGOs’ activities both financially and in other ways. Special programs are developed and implemented, either by topic or by socially oriented issues. In some countries a tax is used specifically to support NGOs. In Abkhazia the state unfortunately does not provide any targeted financial support to the NGOs. There have been different periods of relations between NGOs and state structures in the history of modern Abkhazia. Today we can talk about a certain level of constructive cooperation with the Ministry of Labor, Employment and Social Security, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Ministry of Internal Affairs, and parliamentary deputies.
In general however, the attitude of certain government circles towards any groups is negative, in particular towards those NGOs that critically assess the officials. Many officials simply ignore the NGOs and their work. For them, the principles set forth in the Abkhaz Constitution, which entitle civil society to participate in the life of the republic and to ensure civil control, are generally unacceptable.
A Forum of Civil Society Organisations held in Abkhazia in August 2018, summarised the work that had been carried out by NGOs over the last 25 years. The organisers invited all government branches to the forum, but only a few came, perhaps those few who positively evaluate NGOs work and who consider it to be important. None of the high-ranking Abkhazian officials appeared at the event, while the Ambassador of the Russian Federation both attended and even gave a speech at the Forum. Unfortunately, this indicates the fact that many government officials do not understand the importance of the existence of civil society in Abkhazia and the work it is doing.
A special situation arises among NGOs working in the Gali district. They face difficulties as the local authorities are trying to gain control over their work. One can understand the authorities´ wish to be aware of what is happening in the area bordering Georgia. However, this should take place in a constructive manner, based on the citizens’ awareness of the importance of the principle of transparency and the authorities' understanding of the inviolability of civil liberties.
For clean elections
Presidential elections are being held in Abkhazia at time of writing with the first round taking place on August 25th 2019 and a second round between current de facto President Raul Khadzhimba and opposition candidate Alkhaz Kvitsiniya on 8th September 2019.[7] Parliamentary elections will be held in South Ossetia on 9 June, and mid-term elections to the Georgian parliament on 19 May.
Fifteen years ago, an initiative was launched to clean up the electoral process. Many NGO leaders advocated, and still advocate, for a solely constitutional shift in power. They consider unlawful acts unacceptable, even if there are many reasons to be dissatisfied with the current authorities. In addition, there are people with different political affiliations working in the NGOs, and it must be assumed that each person has the right to have his own opinion and judgment.
On the eve of the first alternative presidential elections in Abkhazia in 2004, the ‘League of Voters for Fair Elections’ was created. The civil society leaders came up with the idea, but in no case can it be qualified as an NGO project, since it represented a coalition that included just proactive citizens working completely pro bono. Everyone worked as volunteers and paid for their own petrol in order to be able to perform direct monitoring on Election Day.
At that time, before the start of the election campaign, the situation was rather tense: many were afraid that it would be impossible to achieve a change of government by peaceful means. Since quite a limited number of foreign observers usually come to the elections in Abkhazia and the election results are not being assessed by the wider international community, it was important to strengthen the internal legitimacy of the elections. This could be done with the help of independent monitoring. There was at that time no article in the Abkhaz election law prescribing public monitoring, however later it became possible to convince the Central Election Commission (CEC) of the necessity of such a provision. This is an example of the positive cooperation between a state institution and civil society. Already after the crisis of the 2004 elections, a law[8] was adopted, allowing those organisations that have included observation to their charters, defining it as one of the organisation’s tasks, to undertake election observation. This law is the main tool against those who may be tempted to interfere with public election monitoring.[9]
The legislation of another unrecognised state, South Ossetia, still does not allow the participation of citizen observers. Observers can be appointed only by a candidate registered in a single-mandate constituency, or by a political party that has registered a republican list of candidates. Elections to the Parliament of South Ossetia of the 7th convocation were held on 9 June 2019. Prior to the election, eight out of nine political parties eligible to participate in the elections, as well as 81 self-nominated candidates, had applied to stand. After decisions by the South Ossetian Central Election Commission seven out of the eight political parties who applied for participation, were admitted to the elections; and 39 of self-nominated candidates were able to stand – less than half of those who applied for registration.[10]
According to official information from the Ministry of Justice of South Ossetia 160 NGOs of various organisational and legal form were registered in the republic at the beginning of 2019. In addition to parties, these are: 108 NGOs strictly speaking; 45 regional branches of political parties; one religious organisation with six parishes; one NGO ‘South Ossetian Cossack Society’. Seven organisations are registered with the status of ‘foreign partner’.
The 2011 presidential race in South Ossetia and the tabulation process led to the ‘Snow Revolution’ and to the political crisis in the republic, similar to the Abkhaz crisis in 2004 requiring interference by the Russian Federation. In 2011 de facto state bodies acted beyond their previously authorised powers and post factum amendments were made to South Ossetia´s legislation, which deprived Alla Dzhioeva, who obtained the highest number of votes, of her victory. For example on the second day after the polls closed the elections were declared invalid, not allowing the Central Election Commission (CEC) to announce the final voting outcomes. The decision was made without the presence of presidential candidates, while neither the media, nor the public were shown the text of the decision and the text of the complaint of Djioeva's opponent that had supposedly triggered the annulment of the election.
The last elections in 2017 were observed by representatives from Russia, as well as from unrecognised states - the Donetsk People’s Republic (DPR), the Luhansk People’s Republic (LPR), Nagorno-Karabakh, Abkhazia and Transnistria. In general, elections in South Ossetia remain less transparent than in Abkhazia, due to the lack of a public observer institution, complicated registration procedures for international observers and negative reactions from a part of the public to NGO activities after the discussion of ‘foreign agents’.[11]
One of the main challenges for the NGOs related to their work is false information and accusations of spreading so-called ‘alien values’. Some consider human rights and other important democratic principles as ‘alien’, which include the right to elect and to be elected and the right to choose one’s own government. As a rule, such information is disseminated by anonymous users in social networks, sometimes similar articles appear in the press and are signed by non-existent names.
This pseudo-revelatory activity is intended to create a negative attitude towards NGOs in the society by attempting to portray NGOs as opponents of independent Abkhazia, proponents of establishing contacts with Georgia or as agents of Western influence. This phenomenon is difficult to fight, because the authors are hiding under fictitious names. The only possibility to fight against attempts to discredit NGOs is to work openly and transparently, constantly informing the public about one´s activities, also during the upcoming voting in the presidential elections in Abkhazia.
Nagorno-Karabakh: two views on NGO activities
According to the State Register under the Nagorno-Karabakh government 266 NGOs and civil initiatives were registered in the republic during the period from 1995 to 2019. The most famous of them are:
The organisation ‘VITA’ was established in 1994. Now it includes 17 veterans of the Karabakh war with spine problems. The organisation is funded by the government. The organisation’s chairman, Arevik Petrosyan, notes that thanks to the cooperation with the authorities, it was possible to provide all wheelchair users with the opportunity to move unhindered in their apartment or house.
Disabled military wheelchair users in Nagorno-Karabakh are socially secured, they have a high military pension, and they receive numerous military benefits. There are several assistance programs for disabled people of the first group. Disabled civil wheelchair users however do not have a NGO. They experience difficult living conditions, they have low pensions and receive almost no benefits.
According to Petrosyan, ‘VITA’ provides social, psychological, whenever possible, material, medical and legal assistance, not only to its members, but also to other disabled people who address to them:
“The work of non-government organisations is precisely this - to identify and take under control the current problems of small groups, to protect the rights of small groups, which, due to their small size, are not covered by the state programs. Here, non-governmental organisations come to the aid of the state.”[12]
The main problem for wheelchair users is that settlements and public transport are not adapted to allow them move freely. The International Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities has to this day not been adopted in Nagorno-Karabakh. According to Petrosyan, the obstacle lies in the deputies´ work:
“When Armenia adopted the Convention on the Protection of the Rights of Persons with Disabilities in 2010, it amended the paragraph specifying that Armenia assumes responsibility for disabled persons in Nagorno-Karabakh. When Azerbaijan was adopting the Convention in the same year, a special paragraph clarified that these provisions do not apply to persons with disabilities living in Nagorno-Karabakh. It turns out that our authorities have nothing left to do than to simply ratify the Convention, ensuring the legal protection of persons with disabilities”
According to the head of the Shoushi branch of the Yerevan Women's Resource Center, Gayane Ambartsumian, the work of the NGO should consist of identifying problems at the initial level. But there are few organisations in the country that could perform such work and thereby contribute to the development of the state. Most of the structures are pro-governmental, and they operate within the framework of so-called ‘Patriotic education’:
“We do not cooperate with each other, and I can’t say exactly which projects other women's organisations realise. But, in any case, no public organisation should underestimate the work done by other organisations.”[13]
According to Ambartsumian, their target group is youth and women of all ages. The organisation implements programs on gender equality, domestic violence, reproductive rights, women's health, and provides psychological and legal assistance to those who need it.
“Women contact our organisation in order to get a consultation, mainly concerning problems of domestic and sexual violence. We provide them with psychological assistance, as well as advice on women's rights”.
The organisation is not funded by the government of Nagorno-Karabakh, and its leader believes that their activities would otherwise be dependent on the position of the authorities. Given the center´s profile and interests, it is not difficult to believe. The dominant mores impede many women from seeking help from such structures.
Ambartsumian said that“there have also been oppressions from the part of state structures, but the conflicts were settled through dialogue. Representatives of the authorities perceived the word ‘gender’ quite ambiguously, and they considered the trainings on ‘sexual education’ as dissemination of pornography. The state in Nagorno-Karabakh does not speak about gender equality. The Constitution says that ‘women and men have equal rights,’ but our society, again according to its mentality, still does not understand the true meaning of ‘gender equality’”.
Elections and civil control
Parliamentary and presidential elections in Nagorno-Karabakh will be held in 2020. Opinion regarding the role of public organisations, was divided.
“During all former elections we went to vote, already knowing who would be in power. We will for the first time go to the polls, not knowing who will be president or what forces will form the parliament. Such a situation arises for the first time in Nagorno-Karabakh, even in the region and in the entire post-Soviet space, except for the Baltic States. I think a good situation has been created to allow the public assume responsibility, to let them go to the polls to vote for their candidate,” said Petrosyan, who was previously a deputy of the 5th parliamentary convocation.
The Armenian ‘velvet revolution’ also influenced the political processes in Nagorno-Karabakh. During a mass brawl in Stepanakert on 1 June, two local residents were beaten up by security forces. The incident incited many people to rally, demanding the heads of the prosecutor's office, the National Security Service and the police to resign. The protest action that had been launched was suspended only two days after the Armenian Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan´s call to let the authorities of Nagorno-Karabakh fulfill the promises they had made to the protesters. On 6 June, it was made public that the heads of the police and the National Security Service, as well as the State Minister, had resigned.
On 12th December, the media reported on the resignation of Karabakh’s Defense Minister Levon Mnatsakanyan. On 13th December, Mnatsakanyan himself announced that he had not written the letter of resignation. On 14th December, the President of Karabakh introduced the new Minister of Defense. A media source attributed the resignation to the negative reaction of Karabakh officials to the statement made by one of Pashinyan’s associates claiming that the victory of the ‘velvet revolution’ in Armenia is more important than the war in Nagorno-Karabakh. By this they allegedly provoked Pashinyan´s anger.
Gayane Ambartsumiansaid that“I see that many non-government organisations are closely connected with pro-government political forces. These forces use the civil society platform for their own purposes. In addition, I do not think that we will have truly democratic elections. But if the state announces that NGOs have the right to be independent observers at electoral processes, I do not rule out that there will be one or two truly independent Karabakh NGOs that will monitor the process strictly”.
The 2012 presidential election was attended by more than 100 observers[14], among them 80 internationals from countries such as Russia, Armenia, USA, France, Canada, Ireland, Poland, Cyprus, Germany, Belgium, Israel, the Czech Republic, Hungary, Austria, Bulgaria and others. 93 journalists were accredited at the elections, 50 were from foreign media.[15]
More than 100 representatives from 30 countries observed the parliamentary elections[16] in 2015.
On the eve of the
upcoming elections in Nagorno-Karabakh, a situation unusual for the South
Caucasus as a whole arises - among the presidential contenders there is
virtually no obvious candidate from the government. A year ago, the
current president publicly refused to participate in elections. On 11th
June, he announced on the
public television station[17] of the unrecognised republic that
he would not run for president, because “adherence to democratic principles in the country is very important
because of the need to build a democratic and civilised state.”[18]
Author's bio: Gregory Shvedov is a Russian human rights activist and journalist, known for his efforts in promoting human rights in Russia, most notably in the Caucasus region. He is currently the editor-in-chief of the Caucasian Knot, an online news medium established to provide unbiased information regarding political oppression, human rights violations, and the ongoing violent conflict throughout the region. In 2012, he received the Geuzenpenning for his efforts.
Photo by Caucasian Knot.
[1] The essay is based on data from employees of non-government organizations of Abkhazia.
[2] SYH is attended by schoolchildren aged from 6 to 18 years. 13 teachers conduct courses for 13 classes and 4 clubs. The classes are: English, computers, Abkhazian language for beginners, journalism, television journalism, the school of young psychologists, painting, guitar, game therapy, ecological tourism, local history, choir singing, theater and handicraft.
[3] Dmitry Stataynov, Participants in the rally in Sukhum declared incitement of a deputy to “honor killings”, Caucasian Knot, June 2017 https://www.kavkaz-uzel.eu/articles/304607/
[4] Center for Humanitarian Programs, Homepage, http://chp-apsny.org/
[5] Caucasian Knot, Residents of Abkhazia demanded the publication of income declarations from officials, April 2019, https://www.kavkaz-uzel.eu/articles/334365/
[6] Humanitarian Program Center, HALF-YEARLY REPORT OF THE CHP ON THE WORK OF THE DISTRICT HUMAN RIGHTS RECEPTIONS FOR JANUARY-JUNE 2018, November 2018, http://chp-apsny.org/reception-room/statistics/polugodovoy-otchyet-tsgp-o-rabote-rayonnykh-priyemnykh-po-pravam-cheloveka-za-yanvar-iyun-2018-g/ and Humanitarian Program Center, SEMI-ANNUAL REPORT OF THE CPT ON THE WORK OF DISTRICT PUBLIC RECEPTIONS FOR HUMAN RIGHTS FOR JULY-DECEMBER 2018, August 2019, http://chp-apsny.org/reception-room/statistics/polugodovoy-otchyet-tsgp-o-rabote-rayonnykh-obshchestvennykh-priyemnykh-po-pravam-cheloveka-za-iyul-/. These are half-year reports on the work of the district level public reception offices; minus the data about the work of the permanent office in Sukhumi.
[7] Gor Aleksanyan, Caucasian historians named favourites of the presidential race in Abkhazia, Caucasian Knot, April 2019, https://www.kavkaz-uzel.eu/articles/334459/
[8] Constitutional Law of the Republic of Abkhazia “On the Election of the President of the Republic of Abkhazia”, Article 12 “Public Observers” (As amended on October 9, 2009 No. 2496-s-IV)
[9] Caucasian Knot, Observers in the elections in Abkhazia found violations, but do not consider them significant, March 2017, https://www.kavkaz-uzel.eu/articles/299074/
[10] Caucasian Knot, South Ossetian CEC registers 185 parliamentary candidate, May 2019, https://www.kavkaz-uzel.eu/articles/335631/ and Caucasian Knot, South Ossetian Central Election Commission denies registration to dozens of self-nominees, May 2019, https://www.kavkaz-uzel.eu/articles/335491/
[11] Magomed Tuaev, The leaders of NGOs in South Ossetia criticized the first-reading bill on non-profit organizations, Caucasian Knot, May 2014, https://www.kavkaz-uzel.eu/articles/242241/
[12] Quotes provided in direct conversation with Caucasian Knot
[13] Quotes provided in direct conversation with Caucasian Knot
[14] Caucasian Knot, At 8.00 in the Nagorno-Karabakh will begin voting in presidential elections, July 2012, https://www.kavkaz-uzel.eu/articles/209941/
[15] International observers were invited by the de facto government, the National Assembly and the Central Election Commission (CEC) of Nagorno-Karabakh. The National Assembly of Armenia and the Russian State Duma sent large delegations. As to non-parliamentary missions, the International Expert Centre for Electoral Systems (ICES) was represented by 10 persons from different countries of the world and members of the Armenian Diaspora abroad and members of various humanitarian and cultural organization that are friendly to Armenia came to act as observers.
See Caucasian Knot, Representatives of 22 countries to observe presidential elections in Nagorno-Karabakh, July 2019, https://www.kavkaz-uzel.eu/articles/209923/ and Caucasian Knot, International observers did not see violations in the presidential elections of Nagorno-Karabakh, July 2019, https://www.kavkaz-uzel.eu/articles/210041
[16] Caucasian Knot, Voting in elections in Nagorno-Karabakh, May 2015, https://www.kavkaz-uzel.eu/articles/261670
[17] Alvard Grigoryan, Bako Sahakyan refused to participate in presidential elections, Caucasian Knot, June 2018, https://www.kavkaz-uzel.eu/articles/321577/
[18] Artsakh Press, I officially announce that as a presidential candidate I will not run in 2020. elections: Artsakh President: https://artsakhpress.am/arm/news/88020/bako-saakyan-ne-budet-viydvigat-svoyu-kandidaturu-na-sleduyushchikh-prezidentskikh-viyborakh-v-arcakhe.html - (7:50)
[post_title] => Election season for the civil society in the unrecognised republics of Caucasus [post_excerpt] => [post_status] => publish [comment_status] => open [ping_status] => open [post_password] => [post_name] => election-season-for-the-civil-society-in-the-unrecognised-republics-of-caucasus [to_ping] => [pinged] => [post_modified] => 2019-09-26 09:14:46 [post_modified_gmt] => 2019-09-26 09:14:46 [post_content_filtered] => [post_parent] => 0 [guid] => https://fpc.org.uk/?p=4018 [menu_order] => 0 [post_type] => post [post_mime_type] => [comment_count] => 0 [filter] => raw ) [35] => WP_Post Object ( [ID] => 4012 [post_author] => 38 [post_date] => 2019-09-26 09:05:40 [post_date_gmt] => 2019-09-26 09:05:40 [post_content] =>The last three decades have brought about a new revolution in the way the world functions and operates, with immense technological developments taking place. The spread and introduction of technological advancements and innovations is very much linked to the political structures and systems that provide the population with access to the necessary and needed skills. The territory of the Former Soviet Union (FSU), with its previous power monopoly and planned economy, has been exposed to innovations and new ways of conducting business in the free market economy after the collapse of the Union. The rules of the free market posed unknown challenges and required the economies of the newly emerged states to adjust quickly to comply with the new standards. Most of the FSU Republics struggled to cope with their new realities, however, with the international exposure and targeted expert and financial support, they were able to get on their feet and stabilise their economies.
However, these developments and exposure did not take place throughout the entire territory of what once used to be the Soviet Union. A number of places within the former territory that do not fit in the international world order, have been excluded from this development process. This is due to their disputed political status, where unresolved and protracted conflicts are the defining aspect of any type of engagement. This paper will focus on one of these ‘special cases’ – Abkhazia, a small piece of land squeezed between Russia and Georgia, surrounded by the Caucasus Mountains and the warm waters of the Black Sea. The author will introduce the reader to a brief historical overview and explain the modern-day ambiguous status of Abkhazia, its internal situation, and then will mainly address the limitation of external assistance and its implications on the conflict dynamics.
Abkhazia today
The present-day Abkhazia is a de facto state that enjoys limited international recognition and is in a political and territorial conflict with Georgia. The world history knows a lot of cases of conflicts between neighbouring nations and peoples, so the Abkhazians and Georgians are no exception in this, living for centuries side by side. The current state of the Georgian-Abkhazian conflict coincided with the collapse of the Soviet Union, the reinforcement of the new national identities and visions of the states’ development. While in the Soviet Union Abkhazia was incorporated into the Georgian Socialist Republic in 1931 as an autonomous Republic, and Gorbachev’s perestroika allowed the Union’s Republics to voice their vision of the future of the union. Georgia under a nationalist leader, Gamsakhurdia, declared independence from the collapsing Soviet Union and reintroduced the pre-Soviet constitution; Abkhazia, fearing for its identity and freedoms within the new state system, did not support this process and expressed a desire to remain within whatever would be left of the Soviet Union. Abkhazia’s claims for a state were not new: Abkhazian leadership throughout their Soviet history expressed desire for a change in their status within the Union and strongly opposed integration into Soviet Georgia. Following Georgia’s return to the pre-Soviet constitution, Abkhazia did the same, stating that it had never been a part of independent Georgia. The power vacuum that followed the collapse of the Soviet Union led to an outbreak of a war in Abkhazia. A war that lasted for 13 months, claimed lives of thousands and was subsequently won by the Abkhazian side, which led to the establishment of the Abkhaz de-facto state.
The negotiation process between the two sides has seen various stages, however, it has achieved little progress; today the sides find themselves in a deep deadlock with mutually exclusive positions and visions on how to address the conflict. At the same time, the situation on the ground is rather dynamic: within the last quarter of a century of Abkhazia’s self-rule, it has managed to establish working institutions and structures. It has even held a series of competitive presidential and parliament elections, with peaceful transitions of power. In 2008, it received the first international recognition of its statehood from Russia, which was followed by a handful of other states. Abkhazia, as any other society, faces a series of challenges and problems requiring proper and strategic planning and management. In most other similar cases, the countries usually resort to internal and external support, both expert and financial ones, the situation with the Abkhaz case is different and has many limitations that have a rather negative effect on the population.
What is the ‘special case’ of Abkhazia?
The Georgian-Abkhazian war of the early 90s had immense negative consequences that severely downgraded the livelihoods of the population, which became almost half of what it used to be before the war. Once the war was over, Abkhazia was put under an international economic blockade that cut off its territory and its post-war population from the surrounding countries. Arguably, this international blockade was as harmful for the population as the war itself. If one looked at Abkhazia in the early 90s, one would find it a mix of a primarily agricultural industry and a high-end tourist destination that was heavily mismanaged under the centrally planned economy. The collapse of the Union and planned economy, followed by the devastating war and the economic blockade left deep marks on the place and its people.
At the same time, it is important to highlight that Abkhazia was and still is a recipient of support and assistance from international actors, such as Russia, the European Union (EU) and the USA. This support played a crucial role in the post-war years, especially from the provision of humanitarian aid. The framework of this assistance is primarily of a humanitarian nature and is directly linked to confidence and peacebuilding measures. In the post-war years this approach addressed a series of challenges and issues on the ground and supported the population. Almost all of the international assistance Abkhazia is currently receiving from Western institutions, primarily from the EU, the USA and Sweden, is linked to, and targeting, the humanitarian and conflict related spheres. The international assistance, due to the political conflict and status of Abkhazia, in no way provides capacity building or support for the much-needed reform of the internal systems.
With the stabilisation of the situation in Abkhazia and minor developments that are taking place, the society’s agenda has also further expanded: there is now a demand for a systematic support that can help the population to address the challenges it is faced with.
However, the unresolved conflict again stands in the way for conflict resolution, apart from sides’ having opposing positions, since 2008, there is no agreement of who are sides in this conflict. After the 2008 war in South Ossetia[1] and Russia’s subsequent recognition of Abkhazian and South Ossetian independence claims and Georgia’s refusal to sign a non-use of force agreement, both, Abkhazia and South Ossetia agreed to allow the Russian military bases on their territories. This is seen by Georgia as occupation; while the societies both in Abkhazia and South Ossetia consider this military presence as the only force preventing a new war. Georgia further elaborated its occupation rhetoric in its ‘Law on the occupied territories’ that claims to outline ways and approaches on how to engage with the population of Abkhazia, in reality it virtually cuts off Abkhazia and its population from the outside world. Moreover, Georgia chose to lump all of its conflicts into one – Russo-Georgian. Official Tbilisi states that its issues with Abkhazia and South Ossetia are only components to its conflict with Moscow, while in reality all three are very different and require different approaches.
This policy of shifting responsibility has proved itself to be rather effective for Georgia’s short-term plans, especially in their relations with Western allies. On the other hand, this policy further deepened the divide between the Abkhazians and Georgians, as it reinforced the isolation of the population of Abkhazia and created a sense of insecurity and unimportance that now is in the minds of people, especially the youth.
Being a young person from Abkhazia, one learns early in life that many benefit the modern-world offers are not available for them, such as travel, international education or professional career in a global tech company. Due to the unresolved issue regarding the status of Abkhazia, all of the documents issued by any of its institutions and structure are not recognised valid internationally, and this includes the passport.
How does it feel to live in a place that is surrounded by a virtual wall? One of the main issues this creates is related to the restriction of travel. There is an Abkhazian passport, but, it can only be used in countries that recognise its independence. Therefore, in practical terms it can only be used for traveling to Russia. Most of the Abkhaz population have Russian passports, these passports were issued to the residents of Abkhazia in a simplified procedure until 2008. However, now these passports are issued by the Russian Embassy in Abkhazia, therefore, most countries do not issue visas for the holders of these passports. A significant number of young people only have Abkhazian passport and are not eligible for Russian citizenship making it harder for them to travel outside the Russian Federation.
Most of Abkhazia’s residents describe this situation as an ‘isolation policy’, where they are deliberately denied access to the outside world. And Georgia and the Georgians are seen as actors orchestrating this policy, and it further fuels the negative sentiments and reinforces the image of the enemy amongst the Abkhazians. This ‘isolation policy’ is extremely harmful for the population on the ground, but it also has very negative effects on the conflict dynamics. Being excluded and deprived of development and professional growth opportunities makes the society more closed off, inward looking and less-inclined to engage. Currently, Abkhaz youth finds itself in this situation of long-lasting isolation, with practically no access to Western education, travel and engagement. The fewer opportunities there are for the youth and population in general to develop, the less the society will be interested in addressing the sensitive conflict related issues.
Living with this unresolved and protracted ethnic conflict makes the society extremely polarised; issues of identity are paramount and of most importance. In the Abkhaz case, this is very much visible in the population’s overwhelming support of the establishment of the independent state of Abkhazia, thus, anything that is seen to undermine this cause is unacceptable. Abkhazia and its population are very vocal when they feel that their interests are undermined, this is true not only when it comes to Georgia, but also in relations with its main partner Russia. This is something that Georgia misses when dealing with Abkhazia: whatever offer of ‘engagement’ with the outside world that is on the table, if it comes with a prerequisite of doing it through Georgia it will not even be considered by Abkhazia. For example, Georgia’s latest version of their engagement plan with Abkhazia, which was framed as a peace initiative under the name of ‘A Step to a Better Future’,[2] was slammed by the Abkhaz leadership and did not even bring about a discussion around it. This engagement plan does have several potentially useful initiatives, however, in reality it does not target important areas that would bring out positive change in Abkhazia: such as tourism development or access to external expertise. A number of experts in Abkhazia believe that this initiative was address more to Brussels and Washington rather than to the population of Abkhazia.
The lack of support for development and capacity building of Abkhaz professionals and youth does not allow the structure, institutions and experts to properly function and bring about the much need internal reform and incentives for change. The lack of modern expertise and know-how pushes the society and its institutions into the adoption of hardened positions, this is particularly noticeable in issues related to the languages of education, protection of civic rights, and civil society freedom. One of the main factors that defined Abkhazia’s development, since the early 90s, was the desire to be accepted and recognised by the international community. This desire to comply with the international requirements and standards was among the main driving forces of the democratic developments and initiatives inside Abkhazia. However, the long-term isolation and lack of development have become major challenges for sustaining the pluralistic and democratic composition of Abkhazia.
Isolation has two components: one is external isolation, a reality Abkhazia has been faced with for more than a quarter of a century now; the second one is internal or self-isolation, a relatively new phenomenon for Abkhazia. Long lasting international isolation inevitably makes the one exposed to it more cautious, suspicious and inward looking. The populations of Abkhazia are now entering that state of isolation; seeing the technological advancements and developments of the outside world from behind a closed door, being excluded from it, led to growing frustration and mistrust. However, due to the fact that Abkhazians have very little space to voice their perspective internationally or influence a position, they resorted to the only option of choosing not to engage when asked. This coupled with the lack of opportunities of access to international exposure and experience and the growing feeling of unimportance evolves into a self-isolation. Self-isolation, if not addressed adequately, will have negative consequences not only to the conflict resolution process, but also internally. Today Abkhazia and its society are faced with a series of challenges and problems, most of these issues are in the core of ethnic and societal composition of Abkhazia and require tailored and systematic approach. However, due to the fact that there is limited access and exposure to the international best practices, lack of resources: human, expert and financial, most of these issues continue posing threats to the population. The effects of lack of proper address are already experienced by the most vulnerable groups of the population, in many cases that also includes minorities.
The issues experienced by Abkhazia are not unique, however, the context of Abkhazia is extremely unusual. The current deadlock in the conflict resolution process does not allow for much space for constructive and programmatic approach, the new developmental divides between Abkhazia and Georgia, coupled with the unaddressed and still burning hardships of the war years, only further escalate the position. Closing the developmental gap between the two entities can become a solid foundation for a future impactful conflict resolution process. A development agenda targeting and based on the needs of Abkhazia, with a status neutral approach and international assistance can boost the process. The more the Abkhazian society develops, the more ownership they can claim to the processes on the ground, the more they find solutions to their challenges, the more the society advances into a more inclusive, democracy and human rights based one, the more inceptives they will be to address the sensitive conflict related aspects. On the other hand, the more Georgia continues to shield off Abkhazia and its population from the outside world, the more hardline will be the positions.
What can be done?
A starting point should be the acceptance of the fact that the Georgian-Abkhazian conflict will not be resolved anytime soon. Today, this conflict, similar to others on the territory of the FSU, has many layers and are no longer conflicts between the two parties, with Russia, the EU and other third parties involved, further narrowing down the opportunities for easy and fast solutions. At the same time, it is important to understand, that any conflict resolution that will bring about lasting peace in the region will have to be taken and accepted by the populations on the ground. The sense of development and progress being made for Abkhaz society, especially for the youth, is paramount for this process.
Another aspect that should be taken into consideration is the fact that it is not an easy task to carve out a policy that will be accepted by all sides to the conflict. In the Georgian-Abkhazian conflict it is particularly difficult, as the sides have mutually exclusive positions, with many redlines and limitations, and there are even disagreements on who the actors and sides involved are. Finding a status neutral approach and framework that does not cross redlines is not an easy task, but it is not an impossible one; with proper international guidance and mediation, clear incentives and creativity, a pathway can be identified and, with time, the sides can even take ownership of the process.
A number of success stories in the field of education that
have managed to breakthrough ‘the isolation wall around Abkhazia’ allow for
some managed optimism. Education, environment, small scale business
opportunities and capacity building development of the Abkhaz youth can bring
about positive change. It might sound paradoxical, but in order to progress in
conflict resolution it is important to divert, for the time being, from a
confidence building and humanitarian assistance and supporting role to a more
comprehensive and inclusive developmental one. The more secure and
professionally developed the Abkhaz society becomes, the more ownership and
responsibility it will have towards the peace process. The missed opportunities
and false estimations of the last quarter of a century can become a very useful
learning from mistakes exercise, and
show all sides that development is the key for the conflict resolution process.
A process that will be very slow and difficult, but it will lay the much-needed
foundation to address and discuss the grievances of the local populations.
Author bio: Rustam Anshba is an Academy Robert Bosch Fellow on Russia and Eurasia at Chatham House. Rustam's research addresses the political and developmental issues that contribute to the existing debate and discourse around the deadlock in the negotiation process for the Georgian-Abkhaz conflict. Rustam has been involved in peace and negotiation processes in the conflict, but also the wider South Caucasus region. His previous work with government, civil society and international organizations allows for a better understanding of the various approaches taken by these actors in relation to the conflict. As a regular contributor to international conferences and events related to peace processes, education and conflict, Rustam has been working in Abkhazia as a guest lecturer at the International Relations’ Department in the State University, as well as with UNICEF’s field office as an education officer.
Photo by President of Russia, New bridge on the Russia-Abkhazia border, January 2012, http://en.kremlin.ru/events/president/news/14361. No modifications to photo. Creative commons licence, https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed.en
[1] Another disputed territory
[2] Office of the State Minister for Reconciliation and Civil Equality of Georgia, A Step to a Better Future’, April 2019, http://smr.gov.ge/Uploads/Education__9dd0e9dc.pdf
[post_title] => Development as the Key for Conflict Resolution [post_excerpt] => [post_status] => publish [comment_status] => open [ping_status] => open [post_password] => [post_name] => development-as-the-key-for-conflict-resolution [to_ping] => [pinged] => [post_modified] => 2019-09-26 09:12:13 [post_modified_gmt] => 2019-09-26 09:12:13 [post_content_filtered] => [post_parent] => 0 [guid] => https://fpc.org.uk/?p=4012 [menu_order] => 0 [post_type] => post [post_mime_type] => [comment_count] => 0 [filter] => raw ) [36] => WP_Post Object ( [ID] => 4008 [post_author] => 38 [post_date] => 2019-09-26 09:04:02 [post_date_gmt] => 2019-09-26 09:04:02 [post_content] =>Writing an article about the human rights situation in South Ossetia is a difficult task. First, no one has done this for a long time. Secondly, there is a problem with the lack of information: data is difficult to access, regular monitoring is not carried out, there are few reports from independent human rights organisations, and even simple observations by external journalists or experts are rare. One of the main reasons for this situation is that international human rights institutions, such as Organisation for Security and Co-operation in Europe (OSCE), Council of Europe and UN mechanisms are not able to visit South Ossetia. In turn, Russian human rights activists do not show enough interest in working in the republic. Therefore, the material is largely prepared on the basis of the observations, memories, personal experience and understanding of the authors of this essay, building upon their past work in this field. These are sketches on the topic of human rights work in a partially recognised state. They should serve as a catalyst for non-governmental organisations (NGOs) in South Ossetia to start a full-fledged work, primarily in the format of monitoring and collecting relevant information.
Practically all respondents[1] with whom the author managed to talk communicated the same thesis: despite the ‘non-recognition’ and the extremely small impact of international and civil rights organisations on society, the situation with human rights and their observance in South Ossetia is not in a bad or dangerous condition.
In fact since 2012, following the election of then President Leonid Tibilov, political opponents are no longer being prosecuted and eliminated physically in South Ossetia.[2] Political dissenters are not being detained in prison for years without a charge. Of course, isolated instances of pressure have taken place and still do, but they are known to South Ossetian society, they have been written[3] about widely and regularly. South Ossetian society, at least its politically active part, has developed its attitude to such facts and to their organisers and initiators. Those political forces under whose rule such actions were committed are no longer in power, thanks in large part to the critical attitude of the population and to the non-acceptance of such methods of political struggle by the people.
Restrictions on rights as a result of non-recognition of South Ossetia
The problem of international recognition or rather, the ‘non-recognition’ of the republic, in particular by the United Nations (UN) and other international organisations, remains the fundamental issue of the observance of human rights in South Ossetia. The ‘non-recognition’ does not directly affect the level and quality of the observance of human rights, but due to the impossibility of carrying out a high-quality monitoring it impedes a full-fledged observance of human rights in the format of international standards. On the other hand, there are dozens of countries around the world, including those initially recognised, meeting in the UN and other international organisations, where membership implies the obligation to respect human rights and to provide access to monitoring, and where the humanitarian situation is substantially worse than in the Republic of South Ossetia.
The Presidency of Mikhail Saakashvili in Georgia saw perhaps the most active period of international engagement in the country, including from those working in the human rights sphere. Today, more and more facts about the human rights violations committed by the then security forces are being revealed, most of them concern violence used against prisoners and persons under investigation.
At the same time, the tendency of ‘linking’ the formation of human rights protection with the process of international recognition of South Ossetia is detrimental to both, in any case from the point of view of citizens of an unrecognised country. When Ossetians are told that they are not recognised, and that any benefits provided by the human rights system are therefore not available to them, they do not understand why and how this can happen. From the point of view of the South Ossetian man in the street, the international community declares that everyone is equal, at least when it comes to people´s rights. Nowhere has it been stated that citizens of recognised states are more equal than citizens of unrecognised ones. But Ossetians constantly face a situation where human rights and international organisations refuse to work in South Ossetia or with South Ossetia, explaining that they cannot and do not have the right to write the name of the Republic in their working papers for example and the authorities are unwilling to allow access by international organisations that do not accept their independence (and formally see them as part of Georgia) particularly in the post-2008 context where Russia has recognised South Ossetia’s claims.
Such an approach is perceived painfully in South Ossetian society. Understanding this, opponents of South Ossetia’s integration into the European community of nations constantly use this situation to their advantage, mentioning in speeches and publications that the Europeans, even in the name of NGOs, not only does not recognise us, but also supports the territorial integrity of Georgia, our potential adversary.
Limitations in human rights protection access are painful for Ossetians for another reason as well, because our independence was born on human rights grounds. It was Georgia’s attempts in the early 1990s to restrict Ossetians in their rights based on ethnicity (forcing them to use Georgian language, depriving them of cultural autonomy, evicting Ossetians from the interior of Georgia, illegal detentions, abductions, torture, violence and murder of people who were not involved in national Ossetian movements or armed formations) that led to the emergence of Ossetian resistance, first social and political, and then military.[4]
It was the nationalist policies of the Georgian authorities, under both the Communist Party and Zviad Gamsakhurdia, who triggered the ‘Adamon Nykhas’, the South Ossetian Front for Support of Democracy and Perestroika to transform into a popular front for independence. That is, there is in the mind of any South Ossetian a deep understanding that the independence and the proclamation of the republic is the way to salvation from oppression on ethnic grounds, in other words, it is the answer to violations of Ossetians´ rights by Georgian authorities. Adamon Nykhas does not exist today as an operating organisation, although its active participants continue to meet, anniversaries[5] of its founding are celebrated at the official level, but the organisation does not take part in real politics or human rights activities, although initiatives to revive it are periodically taken.
What rights do Ossetians want to defend, and who is defending them?
There are virtually no human rights organisations in South Ossetia today, nor human rights activists, or any system for the protection of human rights. Yes, there are such organisations as ‘Journalists for Human Rights’, ‘The Jurists´ Association’, ‘Women for Human Rights’, etc., but in our opinion they do not work in the format and at the level that human rights work implies. NGOs that do not position themselves as human rights defenders, are in fact forced to be active in human rights activities as well participating in public protests in defense of their rights, such as the winter 2011-12 protests in Theatre Square.
No matter how much the critics of the South Ossetian political system may speak up, it is in fact a democratic state, governed by the rule of law though with problems that it is trying to solve within the constraints it faces. The republic was conceived this way from the very beginning, and this principle could not be destroyed either by numerous wars with Georgia, by recognition from the Russian Federation, or by the presidential regimes, no matter how much they tried. Our unrecognised state could simply not have withstood and still stand without the principles of human rights protection.
Millions of euros from the budget and from charitable foundations are spent on the development and simple existence of human rights structures in the West, thousands of employees are working for them. South Ossetia has no such opportunity. The role of the human rights system in South Ossetia is played by the President. Having understood all the ‘charm’ of playing the role of an ‘authoritarian human rights activist’, having calculated all the advantages that can be achieved that way, no president, having once received such a prerogative, will ever give it away to anyone.
The most demanded right among the Ossetians is the right to live, and it was largely implemented in 2008, thanks to the entry of armed forces into the Republic of South Ossetia and the recognition of South Ossetia´s independence by Russia. Protection of the rights of those South Ossetian citizens who were arrested and taken hostage on the territory of Georgia was relevant until those fateful events.
The state guarantees sufficiently the citizens´ rights. As already mentioned, Ossetians do not experience persecution for our political or religious views. This is regulated both by laws, and by unspoken practices established in society, by traditional behavior algorithms, and by concepts rooted in the public consciousness, that for some can amount to a culture of self-censorship.
Last year’s campaign to close the organisation Jehovah’s Witnesses is more likely to be attributed to the tendency of replicating the processes taking place in the Russian Federation’s socio-political sphere, especially if they are caused by another aggravation of relations with the West. Jehovah's Witnesses continue to gather and hold services in South Ossetia. It is unhealthy when state structures conduct certain actions for the sake of appearance. They issue regulations, but do not observe them in practice.
The authorities do not in general tend to persecute people on political or other grounds. The adoption of the law ‘On Non-Profit Organisations’ in 2014[6], which introduced the term ‘foreign partner’ into legal proceedings, triggered great concern. The deliberate rejection of the term ‘agent’ is noteworthy. It is used in both in Russia and the United States, but it evokes obvious negative associations. NGOs with that status receive money from abroad. They have to submit information to the controlling authorities, specifying the sources of their projects and program funding, indicating the goals and objectives that the received funds will be spent on. To date there are no examples showing that this law is used by the authorities to harass political opponents or enemies however such rules can be seen to add a bureaucratic burden to NGOs and may risk having a potential chilling effect that dissuades organisations from taking international funding. According to the Ministry of Justice of South Ossetia, 160 NGOs were registered in the republic on 1st January 2019. Only seven of them have the status of ‘foreign partner’. With the exception of the organisation ‘Journalists for Human Rights’, which operates in the framework of UN projects, all of them receive funding from Russia.
On the other hand, the facts of violence used by law enforcement agencies, the Ministry of Interior and the Prosecutor's Office are clear. Suspects and sometimes just detainees, are subjected to pressure[7] and threats. These are not isolated incidents, they take place regularly. Another problem is also exposed here - the reluctance of victims of violence and their relatives to act according to the law: to complain and to sue the responsible officials. People rely more on ‘personal connections’ when solving their problems.
Simply put, there is no understanding by the victims that hiding a crime, especially one committed by an official, because of a reluctance to initiate cases on violence before a court, actually increases the likelihood of a relapse of the system. Also it increases the likelihood of this kind of crime being repeated against their fellow citizens, who often turn out to be close friends. There is no public responsibility. In most of these cases, the perpetrator and the victim come to an agreement on certain conditions.
The institution of the Ombudsman[8] remains almost the only human rights institution in the republic that can be defined as such. It was most active in the period 2004–2008 between the two main armed phases of the conflict, even though armed clashed did not cease during this period and in fact aggressions from the Georgian authorities against South Ossetia resumed. Despite that, the Organisation for Security and Co-operation in Europe (OSCE) mission worked actively in South Ossetia at that time, and the defender’s apparatus cooperated with OSCE. It was a positive example of an international organisation´s work in the context of non-recognition.
The South Ossetian side resolved issues related to incidents in border areas through the OSCE. These were basically detentions of South Ossetian citizens by Georgian law enforcement agencies, which often ended in criminal cases and arrests under various pretexts. With OSCE mediation, such cases often ended in exchanges or simply in release of the detainees. Several cases concerned posts that the Georgian armed units had set up at the entrances to the Ossetian villages, complicating or blocking access to the villages both for their local permanent residents and South Ossetian citizens, as well as for those living in Tskhinval and other settlements in the Republic of South Ossetia.
Along with actions undertaken in conflict situations related to the consequences of the Ossetian-Georgian conflict, the present time is characterised by the intensification of the human rights work done both by the Ombudsman and by a number of South Ossetian human rights defenders and civil society activists in purely internal matters. This includes dismissing a civil servant, raising the issue of treatment of imprisoned persons, protecting the rights of transit passengers, that is citizens of Armenia and Azerbaijan, activating the civil society, and supporting civil non-governmental initiatives.
Stalinism and the request ‘for justice’
Much is said about such a phenomenon as the popularity of Stalin and the support of his state policy by the Ossetians. As sociological studies show, this is not a distinctive feature only of Ossetians. According to the latest survey carried out by Levada Center[9] in Russia, the level of Stalin´s popularity has broken a historic record. Another part of the Ossetians is no less firmly convinced that Ossetians were particularly subjected to the most large-scale repressions during the years of Stalin’s rule.
Two such perceptions of Stalinism can coexist only in one case - when people find a positive element in Stalinism that they cannot find in today's reality. This positive element, which they associate with ‘justice’, is glorified and mythologised. Justice is understood as human equality before the law, even if this law is transformed by the ‘Stalinists’ into Stalin himself. Justice is expressed in equal punishment for violating the law, both for the peasant and for the minister, even if he just yesterday was the closest person to the leader himself. Even though the punishment of former comrades-in-arms had nothing to do with the law observance, it was presented and became imprinted in social memory in particularly that way. Today it continues to be presented in the same manner by the propagandists of Stalinism. It is difficult to set anything against it in the absence of a full-fledged human rights system.
Some of the most controversial cases that took place in the years after the proclamation of independence of South Ossetia and the conflict with Georgia, actually had their own financial, economic and criminal background. Making a criminal be perceived as the victim of political repression is just as wrong as making someone a victim of political persecutions or ethnically-based persecutions as the result of actions by a criminal authority or an ordinary. However, such cases occur when human rights defenders and journalists interpret them as the persecutions based on national or political grounds, while in fact they contain much bigger monetary and sometimes criminal components.
Such manipulations with facts trigger, among other things, requirements of a fair punishment of the perpetrator, embodied in the myth of the incorruptible ruler of justice, the selfless and noble Stalin. The history of repressions and deportations is, at best, forgotten or left in the background; at worst, people draw a direct link between repression and justice. And this is also due to the lack of human rights defenders.
Without training the local South Ossetian
activists to become specialists who will later be able to monitor the current
human rights situation, to prepare analytical materials and to offer further
recommendations, a full-fledged work in any of the human rights areas is hardly
possible.
Authors' bios:
Gregory Shvedov is a Russian human rights activist and journalist, known for his efforts in promoting human rights in Russia, most notably in the Caucasus region. He is currently the editor-in-chief of the Caucasian Knot, an online news medium established to provide unbiased information regarding political oppression, human rights violations, and the ongoing violent conflict throughout the region. In 2012, he received the Geuzenpenning for his efforts.
Alan Parastaev is a blogger and NGO activist who writes about civil society in South Ossetia, including human rights.
Photo by President of Russia, Russian-South Ossetian negotiations, November 2017, http://kremlin.ru/events/president/news/56074/photos. No modifications to photo. Creative commons licence, https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed.en
[1] The respondents wished to preserve anonymity. It is advisable in this material not to attract the attention of the authorities and law enforcement structures to the respondents, this may complicate further work with them in the future.
[2] During the current Presidency of Anatoly Bibilov there has been the arrest and conviction of former Minister of Telecommunications Georgy Kabisov whose supporters believe the prosecution to be politically motivated while the Prosecutors Office presents the case as tackling corruption from the period of Eduard Kokoity’s presidency. There are many who saw the cases of Alan Parastaev (the former de facto Minister not the co-author if this essay) and the Khubezhov brothers has having political motivations
[3] Arsen Kozaev, The Opposition accused South Ossetian authorities of trying to eliminate non-parliamentary parties, Caucasian Knot, August 2015,https://www.kavkaz-uzel.eu/articles/266496/; Caucasian Knot, Vladikavkaz court has sentenced Soslan Kokoyev to three years in prison, April 2012, https://www.kavkaz-uzel.eu/articles/204356/
[4] For background on the South Ossetian de facto administration’s views on the matter see Caucasian Knot, South Ossetia recalls victims of refugee execution, May 2006, https://www.kavkaz-uzel.eu/articles/95029/
[5] Society, Faded Glory ‘Adam Nyhas’, Ekho Kavkaza, November 2018, https://www.ekhokavkaza.com/a/29579675.html
[6] Maria Kotaeva, In South Ossetia, the law on NGOs has been passed in the final reading, Caucasian Knot, May 2014, https://www.kavkaz-uzel.eu/articles/242564/
[7] Caucasian Knot, Former head of the Ministry of Communications of South Ossetia went on a hunger strike in jail, July 2018, https://www.kavkaz-uzel.eu/articles/322964/
[8] Information on the activities of the Ombudsman is provided by the office of the public defender, based on annual reports
[9] Levada Center Newsletter, Dynamics of attitudes towards Stalin, Levada Center, April 2016, https://www.levada.ru/2019/04/16/dinamika-otnosheniya-k-stalinu/
[post_title] => South Ossetia: rights and freedoms in an unrecognised state [post_excerpt] => [post_status] => publish [comment_status] => open [ping_status] => open [post_password] => [post_name] => south-ossetia-rights-and-freedoms-in-an-unrecognised-state [to_ping] => [pinged] => [post_modified] => 2019-09-26 09:11:51 [post_modified_gmt] => 2019-09-26 09:11:51 [post_content_filtered] => [post_parent] => 0 [guid] => https://fpc.org.uk/?p=4008 [menu_order] => 0 [post_type] => post [post_mime_type] => [comment_count] => 0 [filter] => raw ) [37] => WP_Post Object ( [ID] => 3999 [post_author] => 38 [post_date] => 2019-09-26 09:02:00 [post_date_gmt] => 2019-09-26 09:02:00 [post_content] =>Nagorno-Karabakh is a territory of contrasts. There is an obvious pride among the population of the region based on its rich history, nature, green mountains and natural resources, including gold. There is a widespread perception amongst the local population that the recognition of statehood is a possibility in the future but an understanding, that recognition is likely to take a long time – tens of years or even centuries.
Meanwhile, owing to its unrecognised status, economic growth is hampered by limited investments and trade. And the military and political conflict with Azerbaijan over the status of Nagorno-Karabakh and the surrounding seven territories of Azerbaijan occupied by Armenian forces remains unsolved, resulting in a militarised society.
In this essay, we attempt to ascertain what is going on in Nagorno-Karabakh, how people live and how they understand their current situation and their future. Based on input from various sources, we sense that change is in the air.
Dignity in non-recognition
Both presidential and parliamentary elections in Nagorno-Karabakh are scheduled for the spring 2020. With a population of only around 146,000,[1] there are at least 18 registered political parties.[2] “The number seems impressive, but none of them actually represents real change”, a local activist told us. Activists along with ordinary people have been protesting in recent months, demanding a change of government and solutions to economic hardship. “The economy is growing, but not to the benefit of the people”, another activist explained, “Salaries are stagnant, and there is no investment in education or health care”.
In further explanations of the protests, we were told of corruption and clan-based privatisation, with construction businesses being used as vehicles for money-laundering and the lack of transparency in the gold mining industry.
The so-called ‘Velvet revolution’ in Armenia in 2018, has become an inspiring example for the civically active part of the population. The lack of recognition of statehood has not hindered protests or the putting forward of demands for change. But where will these demands bring the de facto state? Have any of the sides – the authorities or the protesters – solutions for the easy-to-see problems?
In dealing with the problems, there are three factors that seem to especially influence political processes:
The Soviet heritage
Ways of thinking and acting inherited from Soviet timesstill prevail in many countries in the region and in the de facto states. The de facto leadership of Nagorno-Karabakh declared its independence from Azerbaijan in 1991 leading to conflict, internal displacement of large numbers of people and since 1994 an uneasy ceasefire.[3] Since that time there have been several attempts at system change in post-Soviet states, including the ‘colour’ revolutions in Ukraine, Georgia, Kyrgyzstan and recently, in Armenia, though progress towards rule of law, an independent judiciary and media, tackling corruption and democratic values has been uneven.
Even though the breakaway Nagorno-Karabakh region is at the centre of the conflict between Armenia and Azerbaijan, its situation mirrors developments elsewhere in the wider region as the de facto authorities are balancing between authoritarian rule and demands from society for greater freedoms and economic reforms. There are elections, but without the people’s voice; and there are parliaments, courts and state ministries, but under an overwhelming bureaucratic mist. The institutions are not able to function properly and transparently. The central authorities remain willing to order law-enforcement and military units to use violence against its own population.
These effects of the Soviet heritage are an important factor in Nagorno-Karabakh as well. However, the unrecognised status of the region makes institutions even weaker than in recognised states in the wider neighbourhood. From the populations’ perspective there might be, somewhat paradoxically, both positive and negative consequences of this institutional weakness.
Among the positive factors that can be mentioned is more independent thinking about alternatives to the current ways of running the territory. This is especially true for a new generation of people, who have not experienced Soviet-style authoritarian rule and the internet. Social media opens new opportunities for participation and discussions on future developments.
At the same time, the lack of ideology and a clear vision for where the region should be heading ─ after almost 30 years of separation from the rest of the world, and resulting economic stagnation ─ leads to the gap between dreams and reality to grow wider. People are waiting for recognition, which they think will come one day, as they are confident in the de facto state’s economic and military viability. There are even those who dream of the forming of a Greater-Armenia of the 21st Century, which will include regions of Turkey, Iran and Nagorno-Karabakh.
The role of Russia, where according to various sources 2.5 to 3 million Armenians work and live, is not clear for the inhabitants, especially not for the younger generations.[4] Some perceive Russia as a multinational superpower confronting negative influences from the USA and President Donald Trump. Others realise that that Russia is not quite a democracy, and that it serves its own narrow interests by selling weapons both to Armenia and Azerbaijan, fuelling further militarisation of the region.
Militarisation
Since the 1990s, the society of Nagorno-Karabakh has been heavily influenced by armed conflict, with regular skirmishes and sniper fire along the line of contact. In April 2016, there was a four-day war, which seems to have left a patriotic feeling among the population. Although the conflict saw the Nagorno-Karabakh or Armenian forces for the first time lose a small amount of, territory to the Azerbaijani Army, it has added to a renewed sense of unity and nationalism, mobilising readiness at all times to defend the territory against an increasingly strong opponent. People in military uniform, military exercises and repeated instances of gunfire between Azerbaijan and Nagorno-Karabakh soldiers, which steadily expand the number of wounded and killed soldiers, remains a visible part of life. According to Caucasian Knot, a news website covering the whole Caucasian region, the number of killed and wounded since 2016 amounts to around 80, including both combatants and a few civilians from both sides.[5]
Most of the male population over 18 years are bound to military service and remain ready to become active combatants if needed. “We do not want war”, our male interlocutors repeatedly confessed, “But if there is a war, our army will win”.
There are around 30,000 internally displaced persons in Nagorno-Karabakh.[6] 30 years after the conflict started, many of them still do not have a proper place to live. They have not received any compensation for their losses.
“What happens in Nagorno-Karabakh is a humanitarian catastrophe”, a local journalist underlined. “Politicians do not care about people’s lives and even less about their opinions. Those, who had opportunity and resources to travel, left the region”.
The displaced people have been supported by a few Armenian non-governmental organisations (NGOs). Some international missionary and humanitarian organisations have also helped. Otherwise, most international organisations are wary of operating in Nagorno-Karabakh and other de facto states. The overall policy of international donors is not to fund independent civil society organisations operating in such territories. This situation hinders progress on human rights. Lack of international support and contacts also makes the work of independent journalists, activists and lawyers more difficult. They lack the strength only cross-border, regional and international cooperation and solidarity between colleagues can give.
Peace and a final settlement of the conflict between Armenia and Azerbaijan seems not to be possible in the near future. Among the population in Nagorno-Karabakh we sensed that there is both a constant expectation of the continuation of conflict and war, and an understanding that someday the peace must come.
A village called Talish, placed in the border zone with Azerbaijan, experienced heavy destruction during the four-day war in 2016 and still lies in ruins. All 600 people living in the village left, and so far, only two families have returned. One of them recently celebrated a wedding with 250 guests in Talish’ old church. The local authorities have built or renovated around 50 houses.
It is neither the absence of a proper road to the village, nor the lack of access to water or electricity that seems to prevent return. It is rather the continued risk of gunfire and the lack of prospects of conflict resolution that keeps people away. In their experience, while time is passing, the conflict may escalate or diminish, but will not go away. The air is filled with rumours, fake news and myths.
From Armenia with hope
When a society for decades lives with conflict and the mobilisation for war, national security often becomes the top priority and individual human rights a secondary importance. People get used to enduring hardships and become tolerant of violence. They adapt to a worsening social and political situation, malfunctioning institutions and widespread poverty.
However, we sense that there is a wind of change now blowing from Armenia to Nagorno-Karabakh, where Armenians constitute a vast majority.
The 2018 ‘Velvet revolution’ in Armenia inspired local activists, civil society groups, journalists and many ordinary people, who have no choice but to stay and live in the territory. The society is indeed changing according to local activists. They claim that fear is not a strong factor anymore and that the armed forces would hardly attack peaceful protests, which have increased in numbers since the regime change in Armenia. Social media platforms are important providers of alternative information and places of discussions. Local activists and journalists are willing to refer to international norms of rule of law, freedom of expression, and bring cases to the Ombudsmen office and even international mechanisms when there is an opportunity.
If one forgets for a moment that the region is a de facto state, one could hardly find any difference between the society in Nagorno-Karabakh and other societies in transition. There are common features of fatigue and discontents with power elites, which are stuck in internal bargaining struggles for power, assets and corruption. They seem unable to solve social problems or fulfil basic needs of the population. Lack of real opposition with a vision and a concrete reform agenda is also a common issue.
However, the story of Nikol Pashinyan, the reforming Prime Minister of Armenia, who had a past as a prominent journalist and opposition politician, pulls out a new debate: could something similar happen in Nagorno-Karabakh? Some mention Samuel Babayan, a former Secretary of Defence, who after staying in power for 10 years joined the opposition. Would he be able to gain people’s trust and pursue a reform agenda?
Many locals assume that the revolution in Armenia was a result of the four-day war in April 2016, and popular dissatisfaction with failures of a corrupt and inefficient military and state apparatus. Pashinyan has so far been rather careful in talking about the situation in Nagorno-Karabakh. He has, however, talked about the need for investigations into different aspects of the war, which represented the worst fighting between Armenian and Azerbaijani forces over Nagorno-Karabakh since a ceasefire was signed in 1994. In June 2019, the Armenian Parliament established a commission to investigate the circumstances of the war.[7]
Need for a people-centred approach
The political situation is not easy, given its duality. You may be pro-reform and –democracy internally, but at the same time you have to present a plausible strategy for sustaining a positive relationship with Russia as the security guarantor of Armenia and ─ in the long run ─ for negotiations with Azerbaijan. This duality creates a vulnerability, which neither Armenia nor Nagorno-Karabakh will be able to solve without more decisive involvement from the international community.
There is a need for careful steps, both to address internal human rights problems – such as expanding freedoms and fulfilling economic and social rights of an impoverished population – as well as moving ahead with peace talks.
An important part of such a shift in approach would be to place the situation of the people living there in focus. The fact that there has been no solution to the housing problems of about 30,000 internally displaced people living in Nagorno-Karabakh is telling of the need to re-orient focus.[8] Whether this situation is mainly due to inaction by the international society, as claimed by Nagorno-Karabakh Ombudsman Artak Beglaryan, with local authorities doing what they can, might be debatable.[9] Improving the situation of the still very large number of internally displaced people in Azerbaijan should of course also be part of such a people-centred approach. Both national authorities and the international society should step up efforts to remedy their situation.[10]
It is beyond doubt that there is a need for more engagement from international organisations to improve human rights and living standards in the region. Such a shift in approach will, we believe, in the longer run also make it easier to solve the conflicts.
Photo by Adam Jones, Tank Monument – Near Mayraberd (Askerani) – Nagorno-Karabakh, June 2015, https://www.flickr.com/photos/adam_jones/18582153944. No modifications to photo. Creative commons license https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/
[1] The last official population count in Nagorno-Karabakh was conducted in 2016. The number was 146 260 (https://www.kavkaz-uzel.eu/articles/280021/). However, this number might vary from what the Azerbaijan authorities have.
[2] The number of registered parties have been growing recently, see Caucasian Knot, Non-parliamentary opposition of Nagorno-Karabakh joins presidential campaign, https://www.kavkaz-uzel.eu/articles/333391/
[3] According to the Internal Displacement Monitoring Centre (IDMC), the number of IDPs in Azerbaijan as of 31 December 2018, was 344 000. In addition, 301 000 IDPs had made partial progress towards a durable solution, http://www.internal-displacement.org/countries/azerbaijan According to Nagorno-Karabakh sources, there are more than 30 000 IDPs in Nagorno-Karabakh. https://www.osce.org/odihr/344716
[4] Russia-Armenia Info, Armenians in Russia, http://www.russia-armenia.info/node/16443
[5] Caucasian Knot, Nagorno-Karabakh after the truce: A two-year war, April 2018, https://www.eng.kavkaz-uzel.eu/articles/42824/
[6] As noted in footnote 3 there are a larger number of Azerbaijani IDPs from Nagorno-Karabakh and the surrounding territories in Azerbaijan.
[7] Ani Mejlumian, Armenia beings probe of 2016 war, June 2019, Eurasianet, https://eurasianet.org/armenia-begins-probe-of-2016-war
[8] Caucasian Knot, Refugees in Nagorno-Karabakh talked about housing problem (in Russian only), June 2019, https://www.kavkaz-uzel.eu/articles/336960/
[9] Ibid.
[10] According to a recent report, “official figures shows that more than 313 thousands IDPs still live in unfit buildings in emergency state in Baku, Sumgait, Ganja and other cities and districts”. Human Rights Club, The Human Rights Situation of Internally Displaced People in Azerbaijan, November 2018, p. 10, available at: https://www.humanrightsclub.net/en/news/2019/human-rights-situation-of-internally-displaced-persons-in-azerbaijan/
[post_title] => Nagorno-Karabakh: The contrast between dream and reality may result in a wind of change [post_excerpt] => [post_status] => publish [comment_status] => open [ping_status] => open [post_password] => [post_name] => nagorno-karabakh-the-contrast-between-dream-and-reality-may-result-in-a-wind-of-change [to_ping] => [pinged] => [post_modified] => 2020-03-05 12:01:18 [post_modified_gmt] => 2020-03-05 12:01:18 [post_content_filtered] => [post_parent] => 0 [guid] => https://fpc.org.uk/?p=3999 [menu_order] => 0 [post_type] => post [post_mime_type] => [comment_count] => 0 [filter] => raw ) [38] => WP_Post Object ( [ID] => 3995 [post_author] => 38 [post_date] => 2019-09-26 09:01:50 [post_date_gmt] => 2019-09-26 09:01:50 [post_content] =>At the end of March 2019, 20 people were detained in Crimea on one day, with 23 people arrested in total.[1] These were Crimean Muslims accused of participating in the Islamic party Hizb ut-Tahrir, recognised as a terrorist group in Russia since 2003. The next dayin the Russian town of Rostov three more Crimean Muslims, who were not found during searches the day before, were detained on the same charge. A couple of weeks later, Raim Ayvazov was detained at the border. He was about to leave Crimea, going to the Ukrainian city of Kherson in order to get documents. The Federal Security Service officers took him to a field near the border, put him on his knees and began to shoot a gun close to his head, forcing him to confess and to incriminate the other detainees. He agreed of course, although he later recanted and told the court about the imitation of the shooting, which he was subjected to by the Russian secret services. Before telling what had happened to him in public, Raim Aivazov, though very afraid, was able to transmit the information to his lawyer Maria Eismont. She, in turn, handed the story over to Crimean human rights activists, who told it to the journalists including me, the author of this essay. This scheme, a cooperation between the lawyer, the human rights activist and the journalist, is the most effective one from the point of view of both journalism and human rights protection. As experience shows it is most effective from the point of view of protection of persons prosecuted unlawfully for political or other reasons. Before Eismont, Ayvazov had a lawyer appointed by the state, who intimidated him and persuaded to ‘admit’ his guilt. If Eismont had not listened to him, then the information about what he had been subjected to would not have appeared at all. The remand hearing concerning Aivazov, like almost all political proceedings in Crimea, was held behind closed doors, and it was impossible for journalists, observers, and even relatives to get in the court room. If the activists whom the lawyer had told about Ayvazov’s ‘shooting’, had not contacted the journalists, this information would have remained only on social networks and would not have spread beyond them, causing a reaction from the supervisory authorities.
My journalistic activities in Crimea began in the summer of 2016. Since then I have spent almost all of my time on the peninsula: one month on a business trip, the next on various trips and working with material, then returning back to Crimea again, covering almost all political trials that are held there of Crimean Tatar and Ukrainian activists. This experience forms the basis of the ideas in this essay about the most effective interaction with lawyers and human rights activists in Crimea.
In the spring of 2015, when mass detentions of Crimean Tatars and politically motivated abductions of activists became a reality brought by the Russian authorities, the human rights organisation ‘Crimean Solidarity’ was formed on the peninsula and still operates successfully there. It united lawyers, relatives of political prisoners and those activists who engaged in providing legal assistance to prisoners, helping families and children left without fathers because of an arrest or an abduction. Activists carry out the information gathering work as well – they cover court hearings, searches, detentions, and generally those activities conducted by Russian security forces that are related to violation of human rights on the peninsula. Several representatives of the Ukrainian Cultural Center, the remnants of Ukrainian society in Crimea, who are subjected to constant persecution, take part in the monthly meetings of Solidarity, but all the activists are Crimean Tatars, Muslims. They have been persecuted since the beginning of 2017, not only for their political disloyalty to the Russian authorities (as was the case of ‘February 26’, when participants of the February 26 rally, 2014, were persecuted; they had demanded the local parliament deputies to retain Crimea as a part of Ukraine), and not only for disobeying the Crimean Muftiat, which is the Muslim governing body that is fully controlled by the Russian security services, but, above all, for their civil and human rights activities. ‘Solidarity’ rather quickly formed a structure in which there are groups of ‘streamers,’ that is, ‘civil journalists’ who cover the persecution by Russian authorities in social networks; a group of ‘civil defense counsels’, lawyers who had acted as defense counsels in court cases with non-criminal charges, for example, because of protest pickets; and a separate group was engaged in providing everything the prisoners needed. This final group helped families and, above all, children, many of whom needed psychological support after having experienced a search, an arrest at home and the trials of their fathers. 18 people out of the 24 detainees, accused of participating in Hizb ut-Tahrir mentioned at the beginning of this essay, are activists of ‘Crimean Solidarity’.
Generally speaking, ‘Crimean Solidarity’ took over the functions of a human rights community on the peninsula. Representatives of international human rights organisations can not work legally on the peninsula because Russia has made their presence in Crimea dependent on the actual recognition of the annexation. “Please come to work in Crimea, if you want to,” Russia says, for example, to the Organisation for Security and Co-operation in Europe (OSCE) Observer Mission, which has a mandate to monitor Crimea, but which is based in Odessa. “However you must get a permission from us, because this is our territory.”[2] It is obvious that human rights organisations cannot do that. However, in 2015, the Turkish human rights mission visited Crimea and published a report after the visit, where it severely criticised the actions of the Russian authorities and security forces, specifically relating to human rights violations including politically motivated prosecutions, abductions of activists, infringement of the Crimean Tatar language in education and so on.[3] Over the past year, two joint human rights teams were able to work in Crimea. They met with the families of political prisoners and activists of ‘Crimean Solidarity’, but they entered the peninsula while preserving their secrecy, which of course limited their activities. Likewise, Ukrainian human rights activists rarely work in Crimea, entering under the guise of tourists. But in this case, they are often surveilled by Federal Security Service (FSB) officers, that keep them under observation and wiretap their phones. The last time an employee of a Ukrainian human rights organisation (the author omits the names of the organisation and the employee for security purposes) had worked in Crimea and was traveling back to mainland Ukraine, an FSB Border Guard officer warned her directly: “Today we release you, but if you come again, you will get problems due to unauthorised activities of a foreign organisation.”[4] All Ukrainian human rights organisations are forced to follow what is happening in Crimea from Kyiv, receiving information from the activists from ‘Crimean Solidarity’, a small number of journalists and local lawyers. In turn, they can only covertly help activists and lawyers, constantly endangering those whom they are helping. Russia has developed a large law-enforcement practice of persecution for contacts with ‘undesirable organisations’ and ‘foreign agents’.
At the same time, Russian human rights organisations are not very eager to work in Crimea. A reaction from Ukrainian colleagues almost always follows activities carried out by Russian human rights defenders on the peninsula, reminding them that Crimea is part of Ukraine, even if annexed by Russia at present, and that Russian organisations should appear there only with the sanction of Ukraine. There are not many Russian human rights activists, including those who believe the same, who are willing to engage in a political scandal. A few Russian human rights activists, who systematically work in Crimea, need in addition to get a work permit from the Ukrainian authorities each time they go to the peninsula. They must submit an application to the Foreign Ministry, carry the documentation package personally to the migration service, come personally and get a special permit, and then travel exclusively through Ukrainian border posts on the isthmus that connects Crimea with the Kherson region. Usually, in order to obtain such a permit, it is necessary to wait between three days to a week. Despite all attempts to facilitate the procedure, for example, to be able to get permission remotely, without coming to Kyiv personally, the situation has not changed for the past five years. The direct arrival of Russian human rights defenders by plane from Moscow or across a bridge connecting Crimea and Russia, most often does not cause official Kyiv to react, even though it violates Ukrainian border legislation. There is however no guarantee that Ukraine will not remember these violations in the future. Few are willing to risk relationships with Ukrainian colleagues and authorities. Despite constant evidence of torture used by FSB officers, the ‘Committee against Torture’, for example, headed by Igor Kalyapin, does not work in Crimea. The same Russian human rights activists who have been working here since 2014 are in fact, still working on the peninsula; no new ones have appeared on the scene during the last five years.
The community of lawyers in Crimea remains in a similar situation. Ukrainian lawyers cannot work on the peninsula at all, and they can only provide support to the Crimeans who complain to the European Court of Human Rights (ECHR), or in Ukraine itself, if required. They cannot defend clients in Crimean or Russian courts. Their interaction with Ukrainian law enforcement agencies, which initiate cases against Russian secret service officers and law enforcement agencies in Crimea, turns them into enemies of the Russian authorities on the peninsula. In 2016, Russian border guards barred Ukrainian lawyer Yevgenia Zakraska from entering Crimea until the end of 2020.
Inside Crimea there has developed a community of lawyers working on political judicial processes primarily relating to Crimean Tatar activists, the most heavily prosecuted group. These lawyers are either Ukrainian, who lived in Crimea in 2014 and have undergone a re-certification, or those who have received that status during the past five years. From the point of view of their work, they are considered in the same way as those Russian lawyers who come to Crimea from Russia. Nikolay Polozov, who first defended Nadezhda Savchenko, and then the Mejlis deputy chairman (the Crimean Tatar People´s self-government body, forbidden by Russia) Akhtem Chiygoz in the ‘February 26’ case, is one example.
Since 2014, the legal association ‘Agora’ has been working in political judicial processes in Crimea. Agora is probably the most well-known Russian association, with the biggest counsel stories. Dmitry Dinze, who was then part of Agora, defended the Ukrainian director Oleg Sentsov, while Svetlana Sidorkina defended the anarchist Alexander Kolchenko. However, the lawyers of Agora did not live in Crimea until 2016. The lawyer Alexey Ladin moved to the peninsula later, he joined Agora and became their representative in Crimea. The activities of Agora on the peninsula are also important, because the association pays great attention to information support in relation to their affairs and to cooperation with journalists. However, Russian lawyers, as well as human rights activists, have faced a reaction from Ukraine due to the fact that they had entered Ukrainian Crimea.
As Pavel Chikov, head of Agora explained “it was a little unexpected: you think you are trying to bring good things to people, and then you get criticised by your colleagues. The logic is clear: by participating in the protection of these people, you legitimise annexation, but we acted out of the considerations that there is a person, he has problems, respectively, he needs help. Everything else is secondary.”[5]
In the spring of 2016, seven journalists in Crimea were searched on the same day. They were all witnesses in the case of their colleague Nikolay Semyona, who was accused by Russian authorities of separatism for an article published on Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, where he spoke positively about the energy blockade of Crimea.[6] The blockade had been organised by Ukrainian nationalists and Crimean Tatars in the autumn of 2015. Mass searches forced some journalists to leave Crimea and follow their colleagues, who had mostly left earlier, while others abandoned journalism. According to lawyer Alexander Popkov “with the help of the Semyona case, the Russian authorities crushed the network of independent journalists on the peninsula”.[7] Even earlier, the editorial offices of the Crimean Tatar TV channel ATR, the Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty project ‘Crimea Realia’, the Black Sea TV Company and other independent journalistic groups were forced to flee Crimea. After that, independent correspondents in Crimea worked unsystematically, except for the time when the journalist from the Russian ‘Novaya Gazeta’, Ivan Zhilin, lived in Sevastopol. In order to get to Crimea without violating Ukrainian border legislation, foreign journalists had to go through the same procedure as human rights activists. However they had to submit an application to the Ukrainian Ministry of Information and Press and not to the Foreign Ministry. This procedure takes up to a week, so the journalist first has to spend that time in Ukraine, then he must go across the isthmus, being subjected to interrogations and additional verifications, first by Ukrainian secret services, then by the Russian ones. When he leaves the peninsula, everything happens in the reverse order, but the interrogation by the FSB officers is more often quite harsh, especially if the journalist has met with activists, lawyers and families of political prisoners. FSB officers check the correspondents´ equipment and phones, that they download information from. They take fingerprints and interrogate about all of their contacts on the peninsula. These obvious risks, as well as the fact that Crimea has gradually, over the past five years, left the media agenda, lead to the fact that foreign journalists travel to the peninsula less and less frequently. From a Ukrainian perspective Russian independent journalists do not from other foreign ones, but in order to not to get involved in the procedure of obtaining permits and passing the administrative border, they travel from Russia directly, hiding under a pseudonym. There just are no independent journalists among the Crimean media, that are controlled by Russian authorities and secret services.
The challenges that human rights defenders, lawyers and journalists in Crimea are facing, also have determined the nature of their cooperation. First-hand information about the events taking place is most often obtained by lawyers from their clients and their clients´ families. They are called upon for help during searches and detentions. They transmit this information to the activists of ‘Crimean Solidarity’ and human rights activists, who disseminate it on social networks and transmit it to professional journalists. And it does not really matter where these journalists are located – in Crimea, on mainland Ukraine or in Russia. Much more important is the personal confidence in the media and journalists, with whom lawyers and human rights activists work. Such an arrangement gives rise to problems for all of its participants.
A journalist, that receives information from activists or human rights defenders, cannot actually check it immediately if he is not in Crimea. He is forced to rely on the information as trustworthy and he can only verify it later, either through judicial documents or on the spot through contact with the prisoners´ relatives. At the same time, it is clear that human rights activists and, even more so, lawyers, have their own goals, namely to protect the persecuted person. Based on that, a lawyer may not share all information, activists may not want to disseminate facts that can harm a person. A journalist has a goal to inform the public, but it is impossible to do so if providing information only partially. If the information is socially significant, it has to be complete. In 2018, one of the Crimean Tatars (the name is kept out for security purposes) was arrested by Russian secret services, accused of participation in the Crimean Tatar volunteer troop named after Noman Chelebedzhikhan. That troop operates in the area of the administrative border with Crimea, and Russia qualifies participation in it as participation in an illegal armed formation. Already in custody he managed to get in touch with activists, who then found me, so that I could cover his case and his trial. I rechecked his story with the leader of the troop, who confirmed that the Crimean Tatar really had wanted to join the troop, but was not accepted because of a criminal prosecution for robbery, from which he had to flee from Crimea. When the text was ready, the lawyer and his client suddenly changed their position, stating in court that he had never wanted to join the troop and had not even left the peninsula. And it was precisely this position that they had wanted to see reflected in the reporting. It was clear that the publication of the article could harm the defense strategy of the Crimean Tatar in court, but it was also impossible to publish deliberately false information. This apparent contradiction between the work of a journalist and a lawyer or human rights activist occurs quite often while working on issues of human rights violations and political persecution.
The Crimean Tatar Eden Bekirov is now kept in a detention facility in Simferopol, accused of illegal handling of explosives and ammunition. He has one leg and a first-degree disability, as well as a severe form of diabetes. His health has been deteriorating since he was arrested in the December 2018, but each time a remand hearing concerning the extension of his custody for the investigation period, is approaching, the defense counsel informs that he is dying in custody. This fact is impossible to check. Both human rights activists, most journalists and Ukrainian media use it very actively, referring to the defense counsel, but the reliability of this information is however not confirmed by anything else than the lawyer´s words. For him it is of course beneficial for the defense of Bekirov.
Nevertheless, an effective interaction between lawyers, human rights defenders, activists and journalists has developed in Crimea. After many years of working in Crimea, and in fact, no new journalists or human rights activists have appeared on the scene during the last five years, all participants of this system have developed confidence in each other. The main question that Russian secret services ask me when I cross the administrative border is: “Who provided you with information? Where did you get the documents for your article? Whom of the lawyers were you in contact with?” It is clear that the effectiveness of our interaction with lawyers depends on our silence in response to that question. The objectivity and completeness of the articles depends on how effective that interaction is. This will, in turn, affect how effectively the human rights defenders will be able to use those texts for advocacy. All these interactions are based on trust – there are risks for any of the participants in this scheme. A lawyer risks when he delivers documents and information from a classified case to journalists and human rights activists. A journalist risks responsibility for disclosing this information if he refuses to name his source. In addition he also risks his own authority because he often cannot verify the information. The human rights activist can neither check this information and risks using materials from a journalist for advocacy purposes and, for example, for writing monitoring reports. It is quite possible that this effective scheme would not have developed in Crimea if the brunt of political persecution had not fallen on the mono-ethnic community of the Crimean Tatars. They have both the experience from the national movement following the deportation in 1944, and the religious solidarity of an Islamic community. Lawyers working on political affairs, and human rights activists from ‘Crimean Solidarity’ appeared first among the Crimean Tatars. They were only subsequently joined by professional journalists.
Author’s recommendations:
Author's bio: Anton Nemlyuk is a Russian historian and journalist. He graduated from Saratov State University (Russia). Until 2012 he worked as a teacher, and thereafter, as a journalist. Since 2016 Anton has been working in Crimea, covering human rights violations, also as a court reporter.
[1] Human Rights Watch, Escalating Pressure on Crimean Tatars, April 2019, https://www.hrw.org/news/2019/04/02/ukraine-escalating-pressure-crimean-tatars
[2] Victor Lyashchenko, In Crimea, they said that the UN mission could come, but constantly refused, RIA Novosti, September 2017, https://ria.ru/20170927/1505682403.html
[3] TRT Russian, Turkish delegation released a report on human rights in Crimea, June 2015, https://www.trt.net.tr/russian/iz-rossiiskogo-i-turietskogo-mira/2015/06/15/turietskaia-dielieghatsiia-obnarodovala-doklad-o-pravakh-chielovieka-v-krymu-304805
[4] Based on Anton’s own interview – conversations with the representative from Ukrainian organisation
[5] Anton Naumluk, Dark times in the Crimea. Agora Protects Dissenters, Svoboda, February 2019, https://www.svoboda.org/a/29760481.html
[6] Valentin Gonchar, The blockade is a necessary first step towards the liberation of Crimea, Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, https://ru.krymr.com/a/27240750.html
[7] Popkov mentioned it at the interview to the author, but also repeated this to Novaya Gazeta, Collapse networks, July 2016, https://www.novayagazeta.ru/articles/2016/07/11/69229-svorachivayte-seti
[post_title] => On Crimea [post_excerpt] => [post_status] => publish [comment_status] => open [ping_status] => open [post_password] => [post_name] => on-crimea [to_ping] => [pinged] => [post_modified] => 2019-09-26 09:10:34 [post_modified_gmt] => 2019-09-26 09:10:34 [post_content_filtered] => [post_parent] => 0 [guid] => https://fpc.org.uk/?p=3995 [menu_order] => 0 [post_type] => post [post_mime_type] => [comment_count] => 0 [filter] => raw ) [39] => WP_Post Object ( [ID] => 3988 [post_author] => 38 [post_date] => 2019-09-26 09:00:37 [post_date_gmt] => 2019-09-26 09:00:37 [post_content] =>Imagine that you are young, hardworking and have just been accepted to one of the best universities in Europe, you even got a scholarship that covers your expenses, but your passport is closing all the doors. No, you did nothing wrong, you were just born in a difficult place. Imagine you have opportunities to study in good schools and you want to bring back all the knowledge you will obtain back to your people, but your region is not on official maps, nor on official lists of passports to get a visa or a travel permit. Imagine that the leaders of your homeland travel to the most beautiful and developed countries, for business and/or vacations, but you cannot leave to go study. Is that right? Does that align with human rights?
This is what has been happening for the last few decades in the Transnistrian region. For more than 20 years, some thousands of people born in this territory get passports that represent, in a way, their identity but not their opportunities. With a Transnistrian passport someone can travel to a very limited number of places, almost nowhere, because not one United Nations (UN) country recognises it as a country.[1]
Being born on a territory that limits educational (and any other) opportunities should not be a source of guilt, but a synonym for the fight for personal rights. ‘Everyone has the right to leave any country, including his own’ says the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (Article 13). But, there are territories that are not state parties to UN covenants, or other standards of human rights.[2]
If a passport does not allow you to travel abroad for University, ask yourself how do the leaders of the Transnistria region travel?[3] A video filmed last year at Chișinău (capital city of Moldova) Airport, shows the arrival of Transnistrian leaders from Germany with a large load of goods, while their bodyguards were blocking reporters from filming and asking questions. Transnistrian leaders hold passports from other countries. So, if they lead a de facto state but travel with the passport of another country, people deserve to know how they have achieved this and how it could also work for themselves.
After decades of this unrecognised reality, some people in the Transnistrian region have as many as four to five passports from different entities: the Soviet one - for memories, the Transnistrian - for local identification, the Russian - to travel to Russia and former Soviet Union territories, the Moldovan - to travel to up to 70 countries, and some people also have the Romanian passport, that allows them to travel to 118 states without a visa.
Travel abroad is possible only with the last three passports, with the last two there are no visa requirements to travel to the European Union (EU), and with the last one you have the possibility to work in the EU and be exempt of educational taxes for student fees in many universities.
It has been almost five years since the start of the Visa Free Regime between Moldova and the EU, and any person born in the Transnistrian region is welcome to get a Moldovan passport. By having that passport they also find it easier to directly access their rights, including those specified in the UN Charter, the Council of Europe charters, and specifically the European Court on Human Rights (ECtHR). And this form of access works, with the support of Moldovan lawyers and NGOs to raise matters with the international mechanisms.
Having a right does not mean it is automatically respected in such unrecognised areas. But it does mean that there is a system of rights and institutions with obligations to uphold those rights. Thomas Hammarberg, in his role as UN Senior Expert on Human Rights in Transnistria, did a monitoring visit to Transnistria back in 2013.[4] The conclusions were not the most positive and there were many recommendations for improvements. Five years later, Hammarberg returned to Transnistria and found an amazing thing.[5] Yes, the territory is still unrecognised and the institutions are not efficient, but he noticed ‘a growing human rights awareness in the Transnistrian region. In several key areas’. It is obvious that in the Transnistrian region more and more people know what their rights are and where to look for truth and justice, but the way to go is still long.
While many of the Transnistrian people use Moldovan passports, they cannot use the Moldovan judicial system to fight for their rights. But they may ask for help from the ECtHR.
The Media Center in Tiraspol does the hard job of amplifying the voices of citizens in the region. A special online project ‘No Torture!’ helps citizens to understand their rights, how not to be punished unlawfully and how to get help.[6] A specially-made video aids in informing citizens from the region how to appeal to the ECtHR.[7]
There is a long list of cases won by citizens from the Transnistrian region at the ECtHR. It started in 2004, when a group of prisoners of war detained since 1992 in different prisons in the region won their case at the ECtHR. The Ilascu Case was the first case to prove at an international court that the Russian Federation was involved in the war of 1992 and in the further separation of the region.[8] The Russian Federation accepted the decision and payed damages to all four prisoners of war.
After that, many other groups from the region claimed justice at the ECtHR and won. Among these numerous groups were parents and children attending Romanian language schools in Transnistria that had been prohibited to study in their mother language in their home cities. The Russian Federation was found guilty of obstruction of education rights in eight schools in the region.[9] The decision was pronounced in 2012. The Russian Federation has not yet paid damages, but there has still been a decision and all the pupils, their parents and teachers have learned that they have rights in this issue. Many of those pupils have already finished school and many of them got into European Universities, including Romanian establishments that provide scholarships to young people in difficult conditions. Through the ECtHR case people involved have learned to have a better future, a future with fulfilled human rights.
The violation of human rights in the region never stopped, but the number of people looking for justice in respect to their rights is higher. The 2018 list of decisions from the ECtHR about citizens living in the Transnistrian region is long enough, and the guilty countries are the Russian Federation and the Republic of Moldova.[10] Transnistria, not being considered a country, is not named guilty, but a list of local officials are named guilty for breaking fundamental human rights. The names of officials include Igor Smirnov, former president of the region and his son Vladimir Smirnov – the former head of local customs. People complained against them for multiple reasons, including inter-alia; unlawful detention, torture, limited access to properties, right to education; and all of them won. Many of the complainants received financial damages paid by the Republic of Moldova and the Russian Federation. All of them made the complaints to the ECtHR as citizens of the Republic of Moldova or the Russian Federation. Not one person made a complaint on the basis of Transnistrian identity. Citizenship is a right and a tool for enforcing rights – a lesson learned by all sides.
A short look at the official news webpage of the Transnistrian administration shows that Moldovan citizenship is largely recognised. At the end of April 2019 a Moldovan athlete, Lilia Fisikovich was selected to participate at the Olympic Games in Tokyo in 2020.[11] She was born in Tiraspol, the capital of the Transnistrian region. But she won under the Moldovan flag and she is congratulated on both sides of the river Nistru. Recently, a group of children from Transnistria won medals at an international swimming competition in Ukraine.[12] How could people from a disputed territory participate in competitions in Ukraine that is suffering from territorial disputes? The young swimmers competing under the Moldovan flag, and most probably, with Moldovan passports.
So did ‘DoReDoS’, a band from the region who won the national Moldovan Eurovision contest and represented the whole of Moldova in Portugal in the 2018 ‘Eurovision’ international contest.[13] Some days ago, the same state agency informed the public that the title ‘Miss Europe’ belongs to a Transnistrian girl.[14] While the word ‘Europe’ is used in music, sports and cultural events, in politics it is seen as a problem in many cases.
Looking at the same official press agency from Tiraspol, ‘Novosty Pridnestrovia’ we find many ‘bad news’ articles of events happening in EU countries: ‘press freedom in EU is worse than ever’, ‘death because of air pollution doubled’, ‘tourists in Europe are unhappy’.[15] All of these negative news articles are based on real facts and no doubt do contain some information citizens should be informed about. But, for example, on the same press agency webpage we could not find one article about freedom of the press in the Transnistrian region.[16] Reporters from the region have come a long way from the Soviet era of journalism to modern reporting. They have participated in hundreds of media trainings in Chișinău, Brussels, Riga, Stockholm, Washington DC, and Chicago. They have visited newsrooms worldwide and they have learned how to make balanced news, visual journalism, and investigative reporting. Thus, their inability to work at home and the lack of freedom of the press in the region is among the worst problems for Transnistria. One of the few articles in the region about freedom of the press argues that it is much worse in Transnistria than everywhere else in Europe.[17]
While Article 10 of the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR) guarantees ‘freedom to hold opinions and to receive and impart information and ideas without interference by public authority and regardless of frontiers’, reporters in the region claim that they cannot publish any critical article about the ruling administration, that many editors-in-chief and journalists were fired because of their wish to use freedom of speech. It is not enough to have the freedom to criticise the Moldovan Government or European governments. Journalists and society should be able to analyse and debate problems at the local level. For now, one good thing in the region for journalists is that they can travel to many places with Moldovan passports to learn. Back at home, they, as holders of Transnistrian passports, cannot write free news if they are critical about the local government, and they might not be able to publish positive news if it is about Moldova as a whole or about the EU. Despite these issues, there is the Internet for sharing and publishing news that has no borders.
Freedom of the press is complex and involves many responsibilities. One of them is to bring to attention the voices of the unheard. The Media Center in Tiraspol helps journalists and citizens to shed light on their lives, including the difficulties. ‘Who are human rights defenders in Moldova?’[18] ‘What is a freelance journalist and how (s)he works?’[19] ‘What is the right to information?’[20] - The answers to all these questions are online, and in the Transnistrian region almost every household has access to the internet. There is also information about how to look for information and how to use databases from local government to the Moldovan government.[21] Information in the public realm does not have boundaries. Holders of any passport are able to check public information and databases in Moldova. And when there is a lack of journalists, anybody can learn how to do citizen journalism in Transnistria.[22]
While modern democratic principles are more and more accepted by citizens of the region and most of the people have and use other countries passports, the authorities of Transnistria stick to the old concept of keeping the region in the list of unrecognised territories. Recently, the president of the region, Vadim Krasnoselsky, promised the citizens that “Pridnestrovie will be recognised. Foreigners should get used to the real name of the country”, adding that “we are a successful modern state”.[23]
The last meeting between Krasnoselsky and the EU Ambassador to Moldova, Peter Michalko showed again the pleasure to have opened doors to the EU. Krasnoselsky confirmed that the “EU is among the most important trade partners of Transnistria”, while Michalko mentioned that he is glad that “Transnistrian businessmen use the opportunity to have access to [the] EU market and the volume of commercial transactions is growing”.[24] Transnistria does not have any commercial agreements with the EU, the only way for regional businesses to access to European market is to hold official Moldovan documents, including passports. And everybody knows about that fact, including the office of the leader of the region.
For now, people living on the left bank of Nistru river may get Moldovan passport without any difficulty, have access to education, the health system, pensions, and other services, as well as travel and conduct with business the EU. However, Krasnoselsky claims that any unification with Moldova is impossible. “I am for the unification of Moldova, but without Pridnestrovie. This is fundamental”, claims Krasnoselsky in an official statement.[25]
Nevertheless, thousands of people living in the Transnistrian region, being holders of Moldovan passports, participated actively in Moldovan elections in February 2019, electing their MPs to the Chișinău Parliament. Despite the rumours that the voters were organised by some politicians, and possibly bribed to vote, the ice was broken and people from the area attained new skills - voting for members of the Parliament of an EU partner country.[26]
Who wins in this territorial dispute? Russia? Moldova? The EU? The
Transnistrian administration? The real
winners are those who obtain access to education and information. Every year
thousands of young people from Transnistria, having passports from other
countries, travel to study, to visit, to participate in international
competitions, conferences, symposiums. Some of them come back to bring their
knowledge and experience home, some of them choose to stay in other places. And
this effects their personal lives and the life of their region for example by
setting up NGOs or working as freelance journalists or independent experts.
Author's bio: Alina Radu is the Manager of the biggest investigative reporting group in Moldova - Ziarul de Gardă (ZdG). ZdG is affiliated to GIJN (Global Investigative Journalism Network),WAN-IFRA (World Association of Newspapers - through Moldovan Association of Independent Press), SEEMO (SouthEastEuropean Media Network), RLNE (Russian Language Media News Exchange).ZdG covers Moldova, Romania, former Soviet countries, conflict areas, corruption and human rights - worldwide.
Photo by Clay Gilliland, Transnistrian Parliament House, September 2013, https://www.flickr.com/photos/26781577@N07/11384632876/. No modifications to photo. Creative commons license https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/
[1] The President Pridnestrovsk Moldavian Republic, About Citizen’s Passport Pridnestrovsk Moldavian Republic, Zakon-pmr.com, March 2002, http://zakon-pmr.com/DetailDoc.aspx?document=62492
[2] United Nations General Assembly, Universal Declaration of Huma Rights, United Nations, December 1948, https://www.un.org/en/universal-declaration-human-rights/
[3] Correspondence From Chisinau, Journalists assaulted in Chisinau. The body guard of the Tiraspol leader forbade them to shoot, Stirile TV, October 2014, http://stiri.tvr.ro/jurnalisti-agresati-la-chisinau--paza-de-corp-a-liderului-de-la-tiraspol-le-a-interzis-sa-filmeze_50766.html#view
[4] Thomas Hammarberg, Report on Human Rights in the Transnistrian Region of the Republic of Moldova, United Nations in Moldova, February 2013, http://www2.un.md/key_doc_pub/Senior_Expert_Hammarberg_Report_TN_Human_Rights.pdf
[5] Thomas Hammarberg, Statement by Senior UN Human Rights Expert Thomas Hammarberg on the conclusion of his visit on 28 May – 1 June 2018, United Nations in Moldova, June 2018, http://md.one.un.org/content/unct/moldova/en/home/presscenter/press-releases/statement-by-senior-un-human-rights-expert-thomas-hammarberg-on-.html
[6] Media Center of Transnistria, No Torture! – The main, Media Center of Transnistria, https://pitkamnet.mediacenter.md/
[7] ProtivPytok, If you are tortured and decide to appeal to the European Court, Youtube video, February 2014, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S6r9E1V1BD0
[8] Human Rights House Foundation, Ilascu and Others vs. Moldova and Russia, Human Rights House Foundation, July 2004, https://humanrightshouse.org/articles/ilascu-and-others-vs-moldova-and-russia/
[9] Natalia Munteanu, Schools in Transnistrian Region Teaching in Romanian Language Waiting for Solutions to their Problems, PromoLEX, December 2018, https://promolex.md/14094-problemele-scolilor-cu-predare-in-limba-romana-din-stanga-nistrului-raman-in-asteptarea-rezolvarii/?lang=en
[10] PromoLEX, List of Persons Responsible for Violations of Human Rights in the Transnational Region, PromoLEX, March 2019, https://promolex.md/wp-content/uploads/2019/03/Lista_2018_persoane-responsabile-de-violare_Promo-LEX.pdf
[11] Sport News, Lilia Fiskovich has passed the selection for the Olympic Games – 2020, Novosty Pridnestrovia, April 2019, https://novostipmr.com/ru/news/19-04-28/liliya-fiskovich-proshla-otbor-na-olimpiyskie-igry-2020
[12] Sport News, Transnistrian swimmers won medals in the Championship of Ukraine, Novosty Pridnestrovia, April 2019, https://novostipmr.com/ru/news/19-04-29/pridnestrovskie-plovcy-zavoevali-medali-na-chempionate-ukrainy
[13] Ephraïm Beks, Moldova chooses DoReDoS for Lisbon, Eurovision, February 2018, https://eurovision.tv/story/doredos-to-represent-moldova-in-eurovision-2018
[14] Society News, The participant of the Dubossary Team ‘Serpentine’ won the title ‘Miss Europe’, Novosty Pridnestrovia, April 2019, https://novostipmr.com/ru/news/19-04-06/uchastnica-dubossarskogo-kollektiva-serpantin-zavoevala-titul-miss
[15] Site Search, Search query ‘Europe’, Novosty Pridnestrovia, https://novostipmr.com/ru/search/site/%D0%95%D0%B2%D1%80%D0%BE%D0%BF%D0%B0?page=5
[16] Site Search, Search query ‘Freedom of press’, Novosty Pridnestrovia, https://novostipmr.com/ru/search/site/%25D0%25A1%25D0%2592%25D0%259E%25D0%2591%25D0%259E%25D0%2594%25D0%2590%2520%25D0%259F%25D0%25A0%25D0%2595%25D0%25A1%25D0%25A1%25D0%25AB
[17] Vladik Magu, Freedom of speech in Tansnistria, NewsPMR.Com, February 2018, http://newspmr.com/novosti-pmr/obshhestvo/17409
[18] Michael Forst, On the situation of human rights defenders in the Republic of Moldova, Media Center of Transnistria , July 2018, https://mediacenter.md/prava_celoveka/1356-o-polozhenii-pravozaschitnikov-v-respublike-moldova.html
[19] Media Center of Transnistria, Freelance journalist: specifics of work in Transnistria, Media Center of Transnistria, December 2017, https://mediacenter.md/dostup_k_informacii/1286-zhurnalist-frilanser-specifika-raboty-v-pridnestrove.html
[20] Media Center of Transnistria, The result of the verification of the violation of the fundamental right – the right of access to information, Media Center of Transnistria, May 2017, https://mediacenter.md/dostup_k_informacii/1216-rezultat-proverki-narusheniya-fundamentalnogo-prava-prava-na-dostup-k-informacii.html
[21]Media Center of Transnistria, Databases to assist investigative journalists, Media Center of Transnistria, October 2016, https://mediacenter.md/dostup_k_informacii/1138-bazy-dannyh-v-pomosch-zhurnalistam-rassledovatelyam.html
[22] Media Center of Transnistria, Recruitment to the School of Citizen Journalism, Media Center of Transnistria, March 2019, https://mediacenter.md/obiavleniya/1410-nabor-v-shkolu-grazhdanskoy-zhurnalistiki.html
[23] Press Officer, Vadim Krasnoselsky: “Transnistria will be recognised. Foreigners need to get used to pronouncing its true name”, President.gospmr, April 2019, http://president.gospmr.org/press-sluzhba/novosti/vadim-krasnoseljskiy-pridnestrovje-budet-priznano-inostrantsam-nado-privikatj-proiznositj-ego-istinnoe-nazvanie-.html
[24] PSPPMR, President of the PMR met with the Head of the EU Delegation to Moldova Peter Mihalko, Youtube video, April 2019, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T6eq9H0Tf4k
[25] Special Opinion News, Vadim Krasnoselsky: I am for a united Moldova, but without Transnistria, Novosty Pridnestrovia, February 2019, https://novostipmr.com/ru/news/19-02-11/vadim-krasnoselskiy-ya-za-edinuyu-moldovu-no-bez-pridnestrovya
[26] Reporter de Garda, How people voted in Varnita / Parliamentary Elections, Youtube video, February 2019, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bpXMneHPEWc&t=4s
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