Recently, The Times of Central Asia published an article titled Ghosts of the Gulag: Kazakhstan’s Uneasy Dance With Memory and Moscow. While it is essential to consider outside opinions, it is equally important to articulate how this perspective looks from within.
In Kazakhstan, there are three large museums dedicated to the memory of the victims of the communist regime. These are the infamous ALZHIR (Akmolinsk Camp for Wives of Traitors to the Motherland), the museum dedicated to the memory of victims of political repression, KARLAG (Karaganda camp), and a smaller memorial complex to the victims of political repression at Zhanalyk, located about 40 kilometers from Almaty. Historians believe that around 2,500 people are buried there, including prominent members of the Kazakh intelligentsia, such as Akhmet Baitursynov, Mukhamedzhan Tynishpaev, Saken Seifullin, Ilyas Jansugurov, and Beimbet Maily.
In addition to these museums, there are monuments to the victims of political repression and the famine of the 1920s–30s in many cities across the country. But it’s not just about the number of museums and monuments. What matters most is that the memory of these events is preserved, and it is being carefully studied. In 2020, a state commission for the full rehabilitation of victims of political repression was established by the government. Over several years, 425 scholars, researchers, and experts have participated in its work. More than 2.6 million documents and materials have been declassified.
Most importantly, this commission has rehabilitated more than 311,000 victims of political repression within the framework of existing legislation. The results of this work are documented in 72 volumes. There are no sections in these research materials divided by nationality. The approach is the same for everyone: justice and fairness for all. This calls into question the “collective amnesia that obstructs historical reckoning” referred to by Guillaume Tiberghien, a specialist in dark tourism at the University of Glasgow.
Regarding any “emphasis on what the prison system ‘contributed’ to the nation” mentioned by Margaret Comer, a memory studies expert at the University of Warsaw, there are conflicts of interest and truths people would rather not face. One of the main purposes of Karlag was to serve as a major base of food supplies for Kazakhstan’s growing coal and metallurgical industries. In addition to industrial development, by 1941 the camp had 70 sheep farms, 45 cattle farms, one horse farm, and two pig farms. By 1950, 4,698 people worked on these farms, including 13 academic scientists. The communist system of corrective labor camps was an integral part of economic development, achieved through what was essentially slave labor. This is the full cynicism of the regime on display: prisoners were expected to “work off” their guilt.
“The country is walking a tightrope,” Tiberghien suggests, pointing to President Tokayev’s speech on May 31, the official Day of Remembrance for Victims of Political Repression. “It wants to keep things calm, to avoid upsetting Russia.” In this speech, while calling for the rehabilitation of victims and greater access to archives, Tokayev also condemned the “instrumentalization” of history and urged the nation to look forward. But Tokayev also explicitly addressed the rehabilitation of victims of political repression. The National Day of Remembrance for Victims of Political Repression is commemorated annually across the country.
When Tokayev spoke of “instrumentalization,” he meant that today there are many “history buffs” who attempt to turn history into a tool for political games. This would be unacceptable in any country, but especially in a multi-ethnic nation.
Comer argues that “It’s sometimes easier to mourn victims than to identify perpetrators.” However, the perpetrators are well-known. We know the names of those who wrote denunciations, who advanced their careers by accusing others of insufficient loyalty to the authorities or of dissent. Among both the victims and perpetrators of the Soviet Union were people of all nationalities in this vast country. The narrative persists that power in the USSR belonged to Russians while the victims were from the national republics. This is simply untrue. Everyone suffered under Bolshevism. The “Red Terror” and famine were supranational phenomena, as was Bolshevism itself.
In Kazakhstan and the other countries of Central Asia, this fact is remembered. Family ties are hugely important in Central Asia, and this is why the stories of our parents and grandparents are so well-known to us. Yefim Rezvan, a professor and editor-in-chief of the international journal Manuscripta Orientalia, once said: “The Kazakhs have a very deep historical memory. Even today, they mourn the heroes of the 17th and 18th centuries as if they had passed away only yesterday.” And this is true. The Kazakhs even have a whole genre called Zhoktau – the lamentation of the departed.
It is pointless to seek revenge for the past. But remembering and studying it is vitally important. Websites with names such as dark-tourism.com attract visitors, but all of the dark sites listed there are open to the public, except, for obvious reasons, facilities near military bases.
As for the “Soviet nuclear past that is quietly disappearing,” in Kazakhstan, there is an Institute of Radiation Safety and Ecology that monitors the situation at the former nuclear test site.
In Almaty, monuments to Soviet leaders were removed and relocated to a single park. I think this was a wise decision. Whatever the history, it is our history. It should remind us of what happened.