The Times They Are A Changin

The Times They Are A Changin

When a despot resigns the presidency after 28 years at the helm, it`s tempting to question why. When a despot steps down after 28 years and power seemingly transfers seamlessly to another politician, it`s tempting to question why. When a despot steps down after 28 years of authoritarian rule and is replaced by a self-dubbed reformer, it`s tempting to ask whether it`s too good to be true.

In Kazakhstan's case, it is.

The first president of Kazakhstan, Nursultan Nazarbayev, resigned on 19 March of this year and was succeeded by the Speaker of the Senate, Kassym-Zhomart Tokayev. Although the 9 June election (which provided Tokayev with a popular mandate to rule having won 70% of the vote) were marred by voting irregularities, it was viewed as a tentative step in the right direction towards a more open state.

By 8 October, there was genuine hope that Tokayev would provide a new direction of leadership for Kazakhstan. In his 2 September State of the un ion address, he advocated for political, economic, and social change. He called for the modernisation of the country's socio-political life in order to ensure the implementation of successful economic reform. This included the creation of an influential parliament and accountable government and a state capable of hearing [ ] its citizens , and which would respond quickly and efficiently to their requests citizens who, moreover, were explicitly reminded of their rights to demonstrate and freedom of expression. According to Tokayev, Nur Otan, the ruling party which Nazarbayev still heads should learn to cooperate with other political parties. Tokayev also called for a reduction in the number of state-owned companies in order to facilitate a shift towards a more incentive-based market economy. Improving the living standards of Kazakhs, Tokayev said, was the goal.

Politically, Tokayev had also shown himself willing to cast off Nazarbayev's long shadow. In a reshuffle on 18 September the new president ejected Nazarbayev's chief ideologue, Marat Tazhin, from his cabinet. Kazakh political pundit, Maxim Kaznacheyev, attributed the move to Tokayev's desire to replace old political power veterans with second-tier figures with whom it would be easier to work, whilst Daniyar Ashimbayev explained that the new president was simply looking for people who he can trust. One independently owned Kazakh website even raised the prospect that Tazhin's close relationship with Nazarbayev's daughter, Daria Nazarbayeva, was another motivation. With Tazhin gone, Nazarbayev's influence on the president's decision- making group would diminish. Although each of these explanations could have been plausible, they all indicated one thing: Tokayev was intent on following his own path.

Most significantly, however, Tokayev's pronouncements became more personal towards Nazarbayev on 8 October. The president criticised the layout, architectural design, and energy inefficiency of the city Nur- Sultan the capital which was renamed in honour of the First President of Kazakhstan. He also launched a corruption probe into the Astana Light Railway Transit Project (LRT), which has very close ties to the former president. Nurali Aliyev, one of Nazarbayev's grandsons, was deputy mayor of Astana with responsibility for the LRT project when almost $200 million disappeared from the Astana Bank, which had gone bankrupt. It would be an understatement to say that unanswered questions regarding the finances of the project remain. With Nazarbayev's immediate entourage potentially implicated in this probe, it is not without grounding that some news outlets viewed this move by Tokayev as aggressive. Judging by Nazarbayev's response, they were not mistaken.

The day after this broadside, Tokayev signed a presidential decree ceding the right of veto to Nazarbayev over the appointment of most ministers, cabinet officers, heads of various security forces, regional governors, and even his own own security detail. Despite numerous politicians and analysts such as Tokayev's spokesperson Berik Ualia, Justice Minister Marat Beketayev, and political analyst Marat Shibutov queueing up to describe the bill as routine , critics perceive the bill as public confirmation that Kazakhstan remains firmly within Nazarbayev's grip.

Journalist and critic, Irina Petrushova, has been insistent since the resignation that nothing has changed. Citing Nazarbayev's bespoke title as Leader of the Nation and lifetime appointment to the head of the national Security Council, she believes that Nazarbayev never ceded command of the three centres of influence in the country that is, the Security Council, the board of directors of the Samruk-Kazyna sovereign wealth fund, and the Nur Otan party.

There is plenty of evidence to suggest that Petrushova is correct. In an 11 October interview with state TV, despite denying the existence of a duopoly , Nazarbayev explained that he would not remain passive should he disagree with the direction in which Tokayev takes the country. As well as retaining key power-making positions, Nazarbayev has been granted full immunity from criminal prosecution and his family have been allowed to keep all previously acquired property. Making insulting remarks about the former president is punishable by up to one year in prison, or three years if published in the press. In addition, Nazarbayev has been travelling widely, both domestically and abroad, representing Kazakhstan by attending the enthronement of Japan's new emperor, holding bilateral talks with Ukraine's president Volodymyr Zelensky, and participating in the Turkic Council. Contrary to Tokayev's belief in freedom of demonstration, the arrest of over 4,500 protestors since June also suggests that the current president's ideas have little influence over policy in Kazakhstan.

The question persists: why now? If Nazarbayev has had such influence ever since his resignation, what is there to gain from the 9 October presidential decree? Although we cannot be certain, the answer is likely that this was a public flexing of his political muscle. Having spoken of the need for wide-reaching reforms and a reshuffling of his cabinet, Tokayev was on thin ice. His criticism of Nur-Sultan was the final straw. His intention to carry out reform was being matched by actions and, to Nazarbayev, this was unacceptable& hence the need to reassert his authority. Opposition activist, Rysbek Sarsenbay, opined that Nazarbayev's dislike of change forced this curtailment of Tokayev's powers, whilst political observer, Dosym Satpayev, calculated in a Facebook post 22 October that the move was a clear signal to government officials about where real power lies.

Since Nazarbayev's resignation, some commentators, such as Joanna Lillis, have questioned the authenticity of the change in power. Yet, there were indications that Tokayev was, in fact, a genuine reformer intent on improving the lives of ordinary Kazakhs. Unfortunately, these hopes were short-lived. As well as the mounting evidence suggesting that Nazarbayev has in fact not stepped back from political life, the fact that Tokayev himself signed the bill which restricts his influence is the clearest sign of all that Kazakhstan still dances to Nazarbayev's tune. The times are most certainly not a-changin .