Paul Goble
Staunton, March 27 – Just as he has done in so many other spheres of Russian life, Patriarch Kirill last week moved to expand the role of the Russian Orthodox Church in the North Caucasus through the use of the two tools at his disposal: the reorganization of the church’s structure there and meeting with senior Russian officials.
But at least one commentator notes that in taking these steps, Kirill is walking a fine line between satisfying the needs of his own institution and those of the Russian state, a reflection of what that writer suggests is “the systematic crisis” in the Russian Federation with the increasing tensions among various parts of the bureaucracy, secular and religious.
At a meeting last Tuesday, the Holy Synod disbanded the former Stavropol and Vladikavkas archbishopric which had overseen Stavropol kray and the North Caucasus republics of Karachayevo-Cherkessia, Kabardino-Balkaria, North Osetia, Ingushetia and Chechnya and sent its head Archbishop Feofan to Chelyabinsk (www.patriarchia.ru/db/text/1434630.html).
In place of the disbanded archbishopric, the Synod created three new sees with three new leaders:
• the Pyatigorsk and Cherkess bishopric which will be headed by Smolensk and Vyazemsk Bishop Feofilak and will include the parishes of Mineralovod, Predgorny and Kirov districts and also the respublics of Kabardino-Balkaria and Karachayevo-Cherkessia;
• the Vladikavkaz and Makhachkala archbishopric which will led by Elista and Kymyk Archbishop Zosima and include Orthodox congregations in North Osetia-Alania, Daghestan, Ingushetia, and Chechnya; and
• the Stavropol and Nevinomyssky archbishopric which will include the remainder of the previous Stavropol and Vladikavkaz archbishopric and will be headed by Bishop Kirill of Pavlovo-Posadsky, who will retain his position as head of the Synod Committee on Relations with the Cossacks.
At the same session, the Synod expressed its “gratitude” to Baku and Caspian Bishop Aleksandr for his supervision of the Orthodox parishes in Daghestan and his “support of Orthodox-Muslim cooperation.” But it eliminated his role there, reducing his sphere of activity to Azerbaijan and changing his title to the bishop of Baku and Azerbaijan.
Also at that meeting, the Holy Synod thanked Feofan “for his many efforts to strengthen church life in the North Caucasus” and his “conduct of dialogue with Muslim communities directed at the establishment of peace and concord in the multi-national society” of that part of the Russian Federation.
Feofan, who earlier served as patriarchal representative to Africa and the East and who who has been viewed as a rising star in the Church, will now seek to promote Orthodoxy in the much-troubled see of Chelyabinsk (www.patriarchia.ru/db/text/31190.html and ura.ru/content/chel/24-03-2011/articles/1036256292.html).
In a related development, Patriarch Kirill on Friday received Aleksandr Khloponin, the Presidential plenipotentiary representative for the North Caucasus, a meeting at which the Church leader explained these administrative changes and the political one expressed the hope that they would help fill “the spiritual vacuum” there (rusk.ru/newsdata.php?idar=47448).
Three aspects of these moves are worth noting: First, they reflect Kirill’s effort to create a power vertical within the church. Second, they reflect his desire to bring religious and political borders into correspondence. And third, they suggest he will pursue a more differentiated policy in the North Caucasus, with more attention to the Cossacks.
But as the editors of Religiopolis.org note, this combination of “bureaucracy and politics” may not work as any of its participants hope. Both the Church and the government are pursuing their own bureaucratic interests, and this combination may end by harming both of them and the interests of believers as well (www.religiopolis.org/news/2275-bjurokratija-i-politika.html).
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Window on Eurasia: Influx of Ethnic Chinese Worries Kyrgyz
Paul Goble
Staunton, March 27 – Having watched Beijing dominate the indigenous Turkic population of Xinjiang (Eastern Turkestan) by means of the dispatch of Han Chinese to that region, many people in Kyrgyzstan fear that the same fate could await their country, given what some of them see as the massive and uncontrolled influx of Han Chinese.
In an article in the Kyrgyz newspaper “Sayat press” a week ago, Turdugul Karimova says that “according to unofficial data, there now live in Kyrgyzstan more than 100,000 Chinese,” most of whom are engaged in trade in the marks of Bishkek and other major Kyrgyz cities (www.gezitter.org/society/1901/).
Nearly all of them have arrived over the past 20 years, the Kyrgyz journalist writes, with some 150 to 200 ethnic Chinese arriving in Kyrgyzstan every month, only some of whom then return to their own country. As a result, “Chinatowns” are being formed in that Central Asian state, and its residents are asking “how is the spread of Chinese influence to be stopped?”
Relations between the Turkic Kyrgyz and the Han Chinese have a long history. At one point, according to Kyrgyz historians, “the Kyrgyz seized China and established a khanate there for 300 years,” Karimova writes, and in the Manas, the national epic, there are accounts of various wars between the two peoples.
In the past, the Kyrgyz journalist says, the Kyrgyz were deeply suspicious of the Chinese and “did not allow” them to come onto Kyrgyz lands because of the fear that the enormous difference in the size of the two peoples would mean that the Kyrgyz would soon drown in a Chinese sea.
Such attitudes continue. Kuseyn Isayev, a Kyrgyz sociologist, for example, observes that “if into the country arrives one Chinese, after ten days there will be 100 chinese and after 100 days, a 1000 and thus, having increased so rapidly in numbers, they will quickly conquer the entire country.”
After 1991, however, the Kyrgyz not only opened the border with China but “gave away to China the very valuable land of Uzengy-Kuush, where there should have been constructed three electrical stations and where there is valuable agricultural land.” This territory, Isayev says, has now been “lost forever.”
The Kyrgyz interior ministry is responsible for regulating the flow of immigrants into the country, but it is clearly failing to do so, Karimova writes. Many Chinese come on short-term visas and then remain in violation of the terms of their entrance. As a result, the number of Chinese in Kyrgyzstan is constantly growing.
According to specialists, she continues, “if this phenomenon is not stopped at the state border, then several years from now, the Chinese may completely ‘drown’ Kyrgyzstan.” But “unfortunately, now from the side of the official powers, there are no measures being planned or carried out to limit the number of Chinese coming into the country.”
One of the consequences of the influx of ethnic Chinese, Karimova says, is a dramatic increase in intermarriage between Han Chinese men and Kyrgyz women. A few years ago, such unions were a rarity, but now “they have become an ordinary thing,” further breaking down Kyrgyz defenses.
Isayev notes, Karimova reports, that “thanks to such a policy, China signified all of Eastern Turkestan.” And he argues that “the time has come for the Kyrgyz to think about their own honor and worth.” The residents of Kyrgyzstan “must not sell their holy land which they received from their ancestors.”
First of all, the Kyrgyz journalist says, “it is necessary to limit” the presence of Chinese traders in the bazaars. The Chinese there are becoming rich “by working in the largest bazaars,” benefitting from the willingness of the Kyrgyz to allow them to do so, something neighboring Central Asian countries do not.
Karimov notes that except for Kyrgyzstan, “not in a single post-Soviet country are Chinese citizens permitted to freely trade in bazaars. This is controlled by special laws.” Kyrgyzstan adopted such a law in 2007, she says, but “unfortunately a little later, a moratorium was declared on this law.”
According to Karimova, “specialists consider that the time has come” to restore this law. Otherwise, they say, the consequences will be disastrous. But tragically in their view, the current leaders in Bishkek are occupied with their own “personal interests, and no one is focusing on this circumstance which threatens the future of our country.”
Staunton, March 27 – Having watched Beijing dominate the indigenous Turkic population of Xinjiang (Eastern Turkestan) by means of the dispatch of Han Chinese to that region, many people in Kyrgyzstan fear that the same fate could await their country, given what some of them see as the massive and uncontrolled influx of Han Chinese.
In an article in the Kyrgyz newspaper “Sayat press” a week ago, Turdugul Karimova says that “according to unofficial data, there now live in Kyrgyzstan more than 100,000 Chinese,” most of whom are engaged in trade in the marks of Bishkek and other major Kyrgyz cities (www.gezitter.org/society/1901/).
Nearly all of them have arrived over the past 20 years, the Kyrgyz journalist writes, with some 150 to 200 ethnic Chinese arriving in Kyrgyzstan every month, only some of whom then return to their own country. As a result, “Chinatowns” are being formed in that Central Asian state, and its residents are asking “how is the spread of Chinese influence to be stopped?”
Relations between the Turkic Kyrgyz and the Han Chinese have a long history. At one point, according to Kyrgyz historians, “the Kyrgyz seized China and established a khanate there for 300 years,” Karimova writes, and in the Manas, the national epic, there are accounts of various wars between the two peoples.
In the past, the Kyrgyz journalist says, the Kyrgyz were deeply suspicious of the Chinese and “did not allow” them to come onto Kyrgyz lands because of the fear that the enormous difference in the size of the two peoples would mean that the Kyrgyz would soon drown in a Chinese sea.
Such attitudes continue. Kuseyn Isayev, a Kyrgyz sociologist, for example, observes that “if into the country arrives one Chinese, after ten days there will be 100 chinese and after 100 days, a 1000 and thus, having increased so rapidly in numbers, they will quickly conquer the entire country.”
After 1991, however, the Kyrgyz not only opened the border with China but “gave away to China the very valuable land of Uzengy-Kuush, where there should have been constructed three electrical stations and where there is valuable agricultural land.” This territory, Isayev says, has now been “lost forever.”
The Kyrgyz interior ministry is responsible for regulating the flow of immigrants into the country, but it is clearly failing to do so, Karimova writes. Many Chinese come on short-term visas and then remain in violation of the terms of their entrance. As a result, the number of Chinese in Kyrgyzstan is constantly growing.
According to specialists, she continues, “if this phenomenon is not stopped at the state border, then several years from now, the Chinese may completely ‘drown’ Kyrgyzstan.” But “unfortunately, now from the side of the official powers, there are no measures being planned or carried out to limit the number of Chinese coming into the country.”
One of the consequences of the influx of ethnic Chinese, Karimova says, is a dramatic increase in intermarriage between Han Chinese men and Kyrgyz women. A few years ago, such unions were a rarity, but now “they have become an ordinary thing,” further breaking down Kyrgyz defenses.
Isayev notes, Karimova reports, that “thanks to such a policy, China signified all of Eastern Turkestan.” And he argues that “the time has come for the Kyrgyz to think about their own honor and worth.” The residents of Kyrgyzstan “must not sell their holy land which they received from their ancestors.”
First of all, the Kyrgyz journalist says, “it is necessary to limit” the presence of Chinese traders in the bazaars. The Chinese there are becoming rich “by working in the largest bazaars,” benefitting from the willingness of the Kyrgyz to allow them to do so, something neighboring Central Asian countries do not.
Karimov notes that except for Kyrgyzstan, “not in a single post-Soviet country are Chinese citizens permitted to freely trade in bazaars. This is controlled by special laws.” Kyrgyzstan adopted such a law in 2007, she says, but “unfortunately a little later, a moratorium was declared on this law.”
According to Karimova, “specialists consider that the time has come” to restore this law. Otherwise, they say, the consequences will be disastrous. But tragically in their view, the current leaders in Bishkek are occupied with their own “personal interests, and no one is focusing on this circumstance which threatens the future of our country.”
Window on Eurasia: Russia Now Suffering a Legitimacy Crisis, Moscow Commentator Says
Paul Goble
Staunton, March 27 – Ever fewer Russians view the political system in their country as lawful and legitimate, according to a Moscow commentator, a situation which is not “pre-revolutionary” as some think but rather “pre-collapse” because of the absence of any opposition parties or forces which could take power and restore public confidence in the regime.
In an essay on APN.ru last week, Igor Boykov argues that “the real ratings of trust in practically all power institutions in [the Russian Federation] at present are not simply low but catastrophically low” and that the gap between “the ruling hierarchy” and everyone else is increasing more rapidly than even in the 1990s (www.apn.ru/publications/article23883.htm).
This was obscured during much of the last decade, he continues, by the “anomalously” high personal rating of Vladimir Putin, “anomalous” because it was in stark contrast to “the low level of public trust in the institutions of power in general, the existence of which even representatives of the powers did not and do not deny.”
Given the various methods the regime used to boost these figures, the real level of trust even in Putin was undoubtedly much lower than the Kremlin claimed, but now, the level of trust in him and his tandem partner Dmitry Medvedev has fallen even by these measures, suggesting that the actual level of trust in the country’s leadership is very much lower indeed.
But this collapse in trust is not limited to the two top leaders. It extends to the members of the Duma, regional and republic officials, and the entire bureaucracy. And this “alienation is often leading to total nihilism and to a general anger and hatred” by the population for those who rule over it.
Such underlying attitudes, Boykov argues, help to explain “the expression of mass support” for the five Primorsky youths who became known as the partisans and for the support around the country for those who took part in the Manezh Square demonstrations at the end of last year.
“I do not doubt,” the Moscow commentator continues, “that in thousands and thousands of young Russian heads after this still more strongy became rooted the idea that to achieve from the existing powers the fulfillment of their obligations … is possible only by means of public and massive street pressure on them.”
Ever more Russians, he suggests, are asking themselves “the logical question: What kind of a state is this and what kind of ‘power vertical’ are we talking about which can be forced to fulfill its obligations … only by means of mass marches on the Kremlin and clashes with the OMON?”
“In practice, the state cannot even defend its own citizens. Throughout the entire country exist organized criminal groups linked with the powers which kill people and keep in fear entire regions,” as “the tragic events in the stanitsa of Kushchevskaya” showed the world “this dark side of contemporary Russian life.”
“And yet no one is really thinking about struggling with this,” Boykov says, arguing that this raises the question “about the legitimacy of the existing social-political system in the eyes of our fellow citizens … about the agreement of the people with the powers that it, the people, voluntarily recognizes the right of the powers” to fulfill its obligations.
The recent round of municipal elections only confirms this. Participation was way down even officially, Boykov says, and the actual levels of participation were much lower than that, with only “one quarter to one fifth” of the country’s population bothering to go to the polls and vote.
In these citcumstances, had voters the right to cast their ballots “against all,” the ruling party of United Russia would have suffered “a crushing fiasco” and not won the victory that its leaders have insisted on calling the outcome. Indeed, Boykov argues, it is clear that this vote was more about “legitimizing” Russia’s rulers in the eyes of foreigners than in those of Russians.
“Tbe decline in trust to the powers and to everything connected with them has reached threatening proportions,” Boykov says. “In Russian the people does not trust anyone or anything: the government, the deputies, the bureaucrats, the police, the army, the courts, the system of education and health” and so one.
At the same time, no one trusts those who are called the opposition because no one would “seriously call Vladimir Zhirinovsky an opposition figure or Gennady Zyuganov the hope for all the insulted and injured, even at a time when there are millions of such people in Russia” who might hope for such a defense.
“In the 1990s and even at the start of the 2000s, many people had illusions about the possibility of successful conduct of a parliamentary struggle,” but now, Boykov insists, “there does not remain a trace of that.” Instead, all political battles look like some kind of play orchestrated by “bureaucrats … at the command of the Presidential Administration.”
The state machine continues by a kind of inertia, and the people expect nothing from it. “For many of them, the contemporary powers that be are the embodinment of all the most low, shameful and unjust, and this relationship, as long as the exiswting social-political system is preserved is impossible to change.”
Consequently, as the legitimacy of the powers become less, “the more strongly the powers are forced to operate on the instruments of force and repression,” something that weakens the legitimacy of the powers still further because it is obvious to all that only “crude force” is keeping the regime in power.
“Some might call this situation pre-revolutionary,” Boykov says, but he argues that it is “now not pre-revolutionary, but pre-collapse – and this is something much worse.” That is because in a revolutionary situation one can perceive some individual or group that might take power, but at present in Russia, “we do not observe” even that.
And thus there is a “paradoxical” but “tragic” situation, Boykov says. “In the state machine of the Russian Federation, everything has rotted from top to bottom … but there is not on view any real social-political force which could seize power and stop this terrible process of destruction and unraveling.”
As a result, the Moscow commentator argues, the existing system will fall at some point in the future only as the result of the acitons of “catacomb” groups, but they will be able to succeed only when those in power suffer “a complete loss” of the ability to deploy coercion in defense of themselves, if not of the country over which they rule.
Staunton, March 27 – Ever fewer Russians view the political system in their country as lawful and legitimate, according to a Moscow commentator, a situation which is not “pre-revolutionary” as some think but rather “pre-collapse” because of the absence of any opposition parties or forces which could take power and restore public confidence in the regime.
In an essay on APN.ru last week, Igor Boykov argues that “the real ratings of trust in practically all power institutions in [the Russian Federation] at present are not simply low but catastrophically low” and that the gap between “the ruling hierarchy” and everyone else is increasing more rapidly than even in the 1990s (www.apn.ru/publications/article23883.htm).
This was obscured during much of the last decade, he continues, by the “anomalously” high personal rating of Vladimir Putin, “anomalous” because it was in stark contrast to “the low level of public trust in the institutions of power in general, the existence of which even representatives of the powers did not and do not deny.”
Given the various methods the regime used to boost these figures, the real level of trust even in Putin was undoubtedly much lower than the Kremlin claimed, but now, the level of trust in him and his tandem partner Dmitry Medvedev has fallen even by these measures, suggesting that the actual level of trust in the country’s leadership is very much lower indeed.
But this collapse in trust is not limited to the two top leaders. It extends to the members of the Duma, regional and republic officials, and the entire bureaucracy. And this “alienation is often leading to total nihilism and to a general anger and hatred” by the population for those who rule over it.
Such underlying attitudes, Boykov argues, help to explain “the expression of mass support” for the five Primorsky youths who became known as the partisans and for the support around the country for those who took part in the Manezh Square demonstrations at the end of last year.
“I do not doubt,” the Moscow commentator continues, “that in thousands and thousands of young Russian heads after this still more strongy became rooted the idea that to achieve from the existing powers the fulfillment of their obligations … is possible only by means of public and massive street pressure on them.”
Ever more Russians, he suggests, are asking themselves “the logical question: What kind of a state is this and what kind of ‘power vertical’ are we talking about which can be forced to fulfill its obligations … only by means of mass marches on the Kremlin and clashes with the OMON?”
“In practice, the state cannot even defend its own citizens. Throughout the entire country exist organized criminal groups linked with the powers which kill people and keep in fear entire regions,” as “the tragic events in the stanitsa of Kushchevskaya” showed the world “this dark side of contemporary Russian life.”
“And yet no one is really thinking about struggling with this,” Boykov says, arguing that this raises the question “about the legitimacy of the existing social-political system in the eyes of our fellow citizens … about the agreement of the people with the powers that it, the people, voluntarily recognizes the right of the powers” to fulfill its obligations.
The recent round of municipal elections only confirms this. Participation was way down even officially, Boykov says, and the actual levels of participation were much lower than that, with only “one quarter to one fifth” of the country’s population bothering to go to the polls and vote.
In these citcumstances, had voters the right to cast their ballots “against all,” the ruling party of United Russia would have suffered “a crushing fiasco” and not won the victory that its leaders have insisted on calling the outcome. Indeed, Boykov argues, it is clear that this vote was more about “legitimizing” Russia’s rulers in the eyes of foreigners than in those of Russians.
“Tbe decline in trust to the powers and to everything connected with them has reached threatening proportions,” Boykov says. “In Russian the people does not trust anyone or anything: the government, the deputies, the bureaucrats, the police, the army, the courts, the system of education and health” and so one.
At the same time, no one trusts those who are called the opposition because no one would “seriously call Vladimir Zhirinovsky an opposition figure or Gennady Zyuganov the hope for all the insulted and injured, even at a time when there are millions of such people in Russia” who might hope for such a defense.
“In the 1990s and even at the start of the 2000s, many people had illusions about the possibility of successful conduct of a parliamentary struggle,” but now, Boykov insists, “there does not remain a trace of that.” Instead, all political battles look like some kind of play orchestrated by “bureaucrats … at the command of the Presidential Administration.”
The state machine continues by a kind of inertia, and the people expect nothing from it. “For many of them, the contemporary powers that be are the embodinment of all the most low, shameful and unjust, and this relationship, as long as the exiswting social-political system is preserved is impossible to change.”
Consequently, as the legitimacy of the powers become less, “the more strongly the powers are forced to operate on the instruments of force and repression,” something that weakens the legitimacy of the powers still further because it is obvious to all that only “crude force” is keeping the regime in power.
“Some might call this situation pre-revolutionary,” Boykov says, but he argues that it is “now not pre-revolutionary, but pre-collapse – and this is something much worse.” That is because in a revolutionary situation one can perceive some individual or group that might take power, but at present in Russia, “we do not observe” even that.
And thus there is a “paradoxical” but “tragic” situation, Boykov says. “In the state machine of the Russian Federation, everything has rotted from top to bottom … but there is not on view any real social-political force which could seize power and stop this terrible process of destruction and unraveling.”
As a result, the Moscow commentator argues, the existing system will fall at some point in the future only as the result of the acitons of “catacomb” groups, but they will be able to succeed only when those in power suffer “a complete loss” of the ability to deploy coercion in defense of themselves, if not of the country over which they rule.
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