Behind the break-up
The breakdown in relations between the US and Uzbek governments can be traced to the November 2003 ‘Rose Revolution’ in Georgia. It was suspected at that time that the US had a hand in the installation of Mikhail Saakashvilli as president, following the overthrow of Eduard Shevardnadze. It became unclear to many of the leaders of the post-Soviet states, Uzbekistan’s President Islam Karimov among them, whether Washington was serious about forging strategic partnerships, or was working to remove them through the efforts of the State Department, Congress and influential non-governmental organisations. That this suspicion was able to develop and take root was partly a consequence of Uzbekistan’s closed political culture: the country’s monolithic decision-making structure (which shrouds fierce backroom infighting), coupled with the obedience to the executive of the Uzbek legislature, judiciary and media, contrasts greatly with the vigorous policy debates of Washington.
Yet the bafflement and suspicion in Tashkent also owed something to an undoubtedly conflicted American policy: there was, all along, the apparent contradiction between the close military cooperation advocated by Pentagon officials, on the one hand, and the pressure applied in pursuit of human rights and democratisation by the State Department, on the other. Washington has never really resolved to its own satisfaction whether the Karimov administration ought to be considered legitimate. Consequently, it was prepared to deal with Karimov as a close partner on military-security issues, while simultaneously appearing to undermine his regime by hosting meetings of dissident groups, and restricting technical assistance and congressional aid – on the grounds that he was neglecting political and economic reform.
Aside from these general stirrings on both sides, specific short-term factors also played a part in the bilateral basing agreement’s ultimate demise. The early support given by the White House to the provisional Kyrgyz government formed after the March 2005 ouster of president Askar Akayev confirmed to Karimov that declarations of strategic partnership and the presence of military bases (the US also has a base at Ganci, near Bishkek) did not guarantee US political protection in the face of popular uprisings. Then, America’s request for an independent inquiry into the shooting of several hundred demonstrators in the eastern Uzbek city of Andijan, in May 2005, was perceived – at least by Karimov – as an affront to Uzbek sovereignty. Karimov was particularly incensed that the US appeared to prefer the version of events offered by the protestors, many of whom may have had radical Islamist links, over the word of his government.
In the weeks following Andijan, the tide shifted decisively. Karimov visited China’s President Hu Jintao in Beijing and President Vladimir Putin in Moscow during May and June 2005. Some commentators asserted that he was prepared to exchange energy contracts for public expressions of support. US night flights from K-2, meanwhile, were banned and restrictions placed on C-17 operations. The first official warning that the Uzbek position was hardening came with the joint communiqué of the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation (SCO) at its Astana summit on 5 July. This called for the withdrawal of US troops from Central Asia. Within three weeks, the first full conference of Uzbekistan’s banned and exiled opposition groups had been held in Alexandria, in the US state of Virginia, and US Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld flew to Bishkek, and later to Dushanbe (Tajikistan), to persuade the newly elected Kyrgyz President Kurmanbek Bakiyev to row back from the SCO position – reportedly with the aid of a $200 million interest-free loan – and guarantee that the US base at Ganci could continue operations without a departure deadline.
The final break with Tashkent was precipitated by the flight to Europe of over 450 refugees from Andijan. Following the unrest, these had crossed the border into southern Kyrgyzstan. Tashkent repeatedly requested that they be returned to face trial, and Kyrgyz officials at one point became concerned that Uzbek forces might seek to enter Kyrgyz territory to snatch the refugees by force. Instead, a UN operation, hastily arranged by telephone between US Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice and Bakiyev, evacuated 439 of the refugees to Romania on the morning of 29 July. The US embassy in Tashkent received its eviction notice later that day.
Last-minute hesitation
Karimov may have been unsure of his ground even at this late stage. The request to leave K-2 was not broadcast in the Uzbek media for nearly a week, and it is possible that he may have still hoped that the relationship might be repaired in the intervening period. However, on 3 August, eleven of the 15 Uzbek refugees regarded as key organisers of the Andijan unrest, and therefore more liable for extradition to Uzbekistan, were airlifted from Kyrgyzstan to Europe. This prompted Tashkent to publicly announce the termination of the K-2 basing agreement. Officially, the Karimov administration has denied a direct connection between Andijan and K-2 – principally because to do so would be to admit that there had even been an international outcry over the killings. Instead, Tashkent has simply stated that the situation in Afghanistan has moved out of the conflict phase, causing the K-2 base to become redundant.
These developments may suggest that both countries did not see their touted strategic partnership as worth saving. For its part, the Bush administration appears to be taking the view that sustaining authoritarian regimes does not necessarily guarantee regional stability. The Uzbek government’s stance was, moreover, seen to be causing unnecessary policy and reputational problems for US diplomacy, especially after Rumsfeld had secured guarantees for the continuation of its Kyrgyz base and overflight rights across Tajik airspace. For his part, Karimov now has the benefit of stronger and less complicated bilateral relationships with Russia and China (coming with no conditionality on democratisation) that are nested in the SCO’s steadily developing regional security competencies.
Strategic shift towards the Caspian?
K-2’s closure is not likely to have a drastic impact on US operations in southern Central Asia. The Bagram airbase near Kabul will see greater traffic, but with Ganci secured and the possibility that the airbase currently being used by French forces at Aini in Tajikistan could be made available to the US, the logistical workload carried by K-2 could simply be shifted eastwards. Meanwhile, NATO will by late 2006 have expanded its presence in Afghanistan, with Provincial Reconstruction Teams under NATO control operating in areas previously covered by US-led forces – although US forces will remain in certain areas of the country.
Reports that the US might replace K-2 with a new airbase situated either at Nasosnaya near Baku, or Ganca in western Azerbaijan, may mean a shift in focus to the Caspian region. Perhaps significantly, Azerbaijani Foreign Minister Elmar Mamedyarov visited Washington soon after the K-2 eviction notice was served. US re-engagement in the Caspian would constitute a reversion to its pre-11 September regional policy. This prioritised the Caucasian states, firstly as a means to counter Russia’s tendency to view the region as its exclusive domain, and, secondly, to secure East–West hydrocarbon extraction and transit corridors that usefully avoided both Russia and Iran.
US geostrategic thinking had been reordered after 11 September, with a shift in regional policy towards combating terrorist activities emanating from Afghanistan and Pakistan. Yet, if Afghanistan does begin to normalise – something which should admittedly not yet be presumed, given a new wave of possibly decisive fighting against neo-Taliban forces in the Zabul and Kunar regions – the US would then have the opportunity to further develop its security relationships with Azerbaijan and Georgia. This would coincidentally enable the adoption of a forward US posture on Iran’s northern flank.
Refocusing on the Caspian basin would make sense in the context of the maturation of its major hydrocarbon extraction and transit projects. The giant offshore Kashagan oilfield in Kazakhstan will be on stream by 2007, and should be able to link with the newly completed Baku–Tbilisi–Ceyhan pipeline soon afterwards. Moreover, the South Caucasus Pipeline project, currently under construction, is intended to link the vast Central Asian and Caspian natural gas reservoirs with the growing markets of Central and Eastern Europe. Although the Caspian basin’s significance as a global supplier of oil and gas should not be overstated, a strengthened US and Euro-Atlantic geopolitical presence in the region will provide additional security functions to combat terrorist activity directed at offshore oil facilities, strengthen commercial ties and offset China’s rapid emergence as a major commercial player in the Caspian basin.
Poisoned chalice for Moscow and Beijing?
The potentially negative implications of the US departure from K-2 for Russia and China should not be overlooked. The acquisition of regional security management responsibilities could be an onerous task for both countries, either individually or through the SCO. Neither is well-equipped to cope with a major internal crisis in Uzbekistan, and would be relatively powerless to prevent the spread of radical Islamist and separatist tendencies across eastern Central Asia. Russia, furthermore, would also not be pleased should Chinese influence rapidly expand across Central Asia. Sino-Russian relations are cordial at present, exemplified by the joint military exercises conducted throughout mid-August at Vladivostok and on the Shandong Peninsula. However, senior Russian defence analysts fear that Putin’s hitherto patient and low-key strategy of gently drawing the Central Asian Republics (CARs) back into the Russian orbit of influence, principally through industrial sector investment, may be insufficient to counter China’s relentless drive to develop its energy supply networks and to secure its vulnerable Western flank.
A further consideration for Moscow and Beijing is that Uzbekistan cannot now simply be viewed as a client state of the same order as Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan. Although Karimov is undoubtedly in need of short-term diplomatic support from Russia and China, an important legacy of his otherwise ill-fated partnership with the US is that Uzbekistan now has the status of a regional power in its own right. Any Sino-Russian–Uzbek alliance would have to treat Uzbekistan as a junior if not equal partner. Given Karimov’s reputation for prickliness, this could come to grate on both of the larger states, and possibly lead them to become embroiled in Karimov’s unwelcome border and resource-sharing disputes with other regional states, notably Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan.
The Central Asian states are sometimes seen as passive actors, open to manipulation by traditional Great Powers. However, virtually all have exploited what leverage they have rather adroitly. The parallel development of autonomous political identities and the gradual weakening over time of Soviet-era ties has meant that Russia is increasingly less able to influence, much less manage, the internal political dynamics of the CARs. It is not obvious that China, as its presence grows, would fare much better. If winning the ‘New Great Game’ means entanglement in the volatile east of Uzbekistan, then the prize Russia and China have secured suddenly appears rather unattractive. If, by contrast, an enhanced security profile close to the largest new oil find over the past 30 years – and to Iran – is the gauge of success, then Karimov may have performed the US a signal service on 29 July.
