I was born in Uzbekistan and emigrated to the United States in 2001, when I was 14. I never expected to return to Central Asia. But after graduating law school, Freedom House offered me an opportunity to work in a country where I could use my Russian-language skills and interest in human rights: Kyrgyzstan.
I jumped at the opportunity, thinking Kyrgyzstan was progressive relative to its neighbors and that my work could serve a purpose. But the Kyrgyz authorities disagreed. Soon after arriving in Kyrgyzstan in October 2011, I was denied a visa extension on the grounds that my stay “lacked purpose.”
Determined, I discovered that I could simply exit and re-enter Kyrgyzstan every 90 days – a perfectly legal, albeit cumbersome process.
My work with Freedom House led me to the south of the country in February 2012. I travelled alongside the Freedom House deputy director and a USAID employee to assess women’s legal rights and to distribute toys to families suffering in the aftermath of ethnic violence in 2010, when over 400 people, mostly minority Uzbeks, died.
These were tense times, when many Kyrgyz bristled at international calls for transparent investigations into the violence, and subsequent trials, which continue to disproportionately target Uzbeks.
I later learned that soon after my trip the Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MFA) contacted the US Embassy (I am a US citizen) to inquire. That was disturbing, but the Embassy did not pass details about the MFA’s concerns to me.
On the morning on May 31, I received an email from an account unknown to me: [email protected]. The email contained a copy of an article in Russian titled, “A Pest Guised as a Fighter for Justice,” published by Obshestvennyi Reiting (“Public Rating”). The article alleged that my sole purpose in Kyrgyzstan was to collect socio-political information to undermine the stability of the country. The author of the piece, Kubat Kutmanov, similarly criticized the International Crisis Group in a separate article published on the same day.
I was surprised (and almost flattered) that someone considered me important enough to defame so clumsily. But the article included an implicit threat: a photo of me – the same photo I had submitted to the Interior Ministry’s registration department for foreigners (OVIR). Only the authorities had this photograph. More revealingly, the article included my patronymic, which I had never given Kyrgyz authorities and which they could not have sourced online.
By then I was working for the United Nation’s human rights office, OHCHR. In June 2012, a UN official told me, a senior MFA official told the UN I was a spy.
After these developments, I was questioned twice by officials at OVIR – where foreigners must register their visas – about the purpose of my stay in Kyrgyzstan, my connection to Uzbekistan, and whether I was ethnically Uzbek (I’m not, but I don’t see why it should make a difference). When I finally tired of the pressure and decided to leave the country, I was detained at Bishkek’s Manas Airport on September 9, 2012, because, as I learned then, I was banned from Kyrgyzstan and was not supposed to be in the country. Eventually, I was allowed to pass, but with a warning that I was never to return. The passport control officer, as confused by the whole situation as I was, could not explain the reason.
My ban was confirmed through trusted unofficial channels, but the Kyrgyz embassy in Washington, the MFA in Bishkek, and the State Committee for National Security (GKNB, the successor to the KGB), have all failed to respond to repeated requests for an explanation.
I’m telling this story now, not earlier, because I’ve finally lost all hope of returning to Kyrgyzstan.
The Kyrgyz government claimed in its recent report to the UN Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination that reforms it has undertaken since ethnic clashes in 2010 demonstrate its commitment to eliminating discrimination on ethnic grounds. But how effective can those reforms be when even an alleged Uzbek is defamed and booted out of the country without explanation?
Sign up for Eurasianet's free weekly newsletter. Support Eurasianet: Help keep our journalism open to all, and influenced by none.