In his essay for Adamdar/CA, political scientist Shalkar Nurseit analyzes how the government narrative of a “fair Kazakhstan” in reality contributes to a tightening of restrictions and repression. The author discusses the role of “law and order” in the government’s rhetoric, the lacking sense of humor among its functionaries, and about how, without empathy or real reforms, the country risks immersing itself in an even bigger crisis.
At the end of December last year, a journalist from a news site asked me to participate in a survey to choose the “Word of the Year.” Among the choices were the following: “penalty,” “price hike,” “equality,” and “time.” I offered her my version instead—President Tokayev’s phrase “dictatorship of the law”—and explained:
“This phrase has become the basis of the political regime’s position on democratization, civil society, freedom of speech, and even cases like that of Sherzat Polat. And I think that next year, as the authoritarian regime pursues its policies, it will continue to rely on Tokayev’s thesis in all sectors.”
A girl holds a sign with the names of those killed in Talgar: 16-year old Sherzat Bolat and his grandfather, Nurkanat Gaipbaev.
Photo by Timur Nusimbekov
A month has passed since then. Interestingly, President Tokayev seems to see this formulation not as a restriction on the constitutional rights of citizens, but the opposite—he considers it a success. In his speech at the extended session of government on January 28th, he boasted, “Recently, in developed countries, including in the U.S., they’ve talked about prioritizing law and order. But we came to that conclusion long ago in Kazakhstan.”
It’s true that Tokayev talked about the “dictatorship of law and order” before Trump. But if you look closer, the question isn’t really about who said it first; it’s about to what extent institutions can guarantee that a president won’t abuse the phrase. And in this sense, Trump is a far “weaker” president than Tokayev, because in the U.S., the President isn’t the final word on the country’s constitution. For that, you have Congress and the justice system, who can block any decision the White House makes for political reasons under the pretext of “law and order.” For example, Trump’s order halting the issuance of citizenship to children of immigrants born on U.S. soil is temporarily blocked in federal court, and several of his other orders are being disputed in court, thanks to complaints by various NGOs.
In Kazakhstan, unfortunately, government institutions aren’t able to stop ineffective or erroneous decisions from the president and his administration. Our puppet parliament and politicized judiciary provide no real checks. Recently, after Tokayev’s statement against labeling or nicknaming the country, the party chairman of “Aq Jol,” the supposed parliamentary opposition who sarcastically called the country “Penalty-stan,” recalled his comment for being “inappropriate.” Naturally, this immediately became new meme fodder on social media.
On January 17th, 2025, the same day that the police officers who tortured dozens of citizens in the Almaty regional village of Koshmambet during Qantar were sentenced to only three years in prison, the police conducted a search of the home of Temirlan Ensebek. The author of satire project Qaznews24 was arrested and detained for two months on charges of inciting ethnic hatred. This, in addition to him facing a prison term up to seven years, and the arrests and trials of ten activists in different cities picketing with “Satire is not a crime” signs in support all confirm that how the Akorda 
defines justice is radically different from how the citizens define it.
I’d like to remind you here that Tokayev’s last message to the Kazakhstani people was titled, “Fair Kazakhstan: law and order, economic growth, and social optimism.” Judging by the political decisions and steps taken by the authorities the last month, the Akorda seems intent on establishing law and order by severely restricting the political rights of citizens, achieving economic growth by increasing taxes and fines, and instilling optimism in a society that struggles with inflation every day by banning satire and sarcasm. In other words, the worse the economic situation gets, the tighter the restrictions on political rights of Kazakhstanis under the guise of “law and order.”
Our sacred right to freedom of speech, which no one can restrict under any circumstances, should serve as a defense for citizens in desperate times like this. In Kazakh, there’s a phrase: “You can cut off the head, but not the tongue.” In the U.S., where they, according to Tokayev, came later in prioritizing law and order, this sacred right is called the First Amendment of the Constitution. It covers freedom of religion, speech, and the press, the right to peaceful assembly, and the right to petition the government. To put it differently, this is an amendment which prohibits the government from deciding whose opinion it should listen to, and whose it should ignore.
This example is not to suggest that we add new amendments to our long-suffering Constitution. Article 20 of the Constitution of the Republic of Kazakhstan already guarantees freedom of speech and expression. That said, it’s widely known that even though the Constitution is de jure the highest law in Kazakhstan, de facto it’s interpreted based on the Akorda’s considerations. With this article, I’d like to remind the architects of “Fair Kazakhstan” that restricting freedom of speech doesn’t lead to economic growth or optimism in society. I also urge them to abandon the “dictatorship of law and order” school of thought, and rely instead on conducting politics with empathy.
In the last few days, economists in Kazakhstan have claimed on social media that raising the sales tax up to 20% will heavily affect small and medium-sized businesses and will hit the pockets of citizens eventually. Increasing fines and penalties will not have a positive effect on the economy in the long-term. There are research findings to support this: studies prove the correlation between democracy, freedom of speech, and economic growth is not accidental. For example, according to the research of Nobel laureate and MIT professor Daron Acemoglu, if a country experiences 25 years of stable democracy, its GDP growth can increase by up to 20%. Research from the Montreal Economic Institute shows that the more economic freedoms are allowed in a country, the more freedom of speech develops, while excessive government control or regulation of the economy directly relates to its decline. This aligns with findings from Australian scientists, which suggest that restrictions on freedom of speech lower GDP by 1-2%. All of these are studies that Tokayev’s government might consider, given its stated intention of doubling Kazakhstan’s economy by 2029 and bringing the GDP up to almost half a trillion dollars.
After the last extended session of government, it became clear that the Tokayev-Bektenov government has not made any structural changes to the economy, has not clarified the rules of the market game, and has not implemented any reforms that might stabilize the political situation. Their plan to fill the state budget by raising taxes has not inspired optimism in either businesses or in citizens. Open disagreement with the tax hike from representatives of the small and medium-sized business association, which up to this point had taken a generally neutral stance on politics, is a telling indicator of the atmosphere of mistrust. The government must implement reforms that open the door towards political and economic stability, as well as significantly lower the level of social inequality, in order to overcome this collective pessimism among Kazakhstanis. Moreover, the government should reconsider their empty propaganda about how “law and order” is really a priority for its citizens, and instead focus their efforts on putting empathy into practice.
In the words of researcher Claire Yorke, who looks at the role of empathy in politics, empathy is actually a political asset, despite often being seen as a weakness. If used correctly, empathy can lead to public policies that improve the everyday lives of citizens, and can teach those in power that high office positions come with great responsibility. As a result, citizens’ trust of government institutions grows. It is precisely thanks to this demonstration of empathy during the COVID-19 pandemic, York says, that the leaders of New Zealand, Finland, Denmark, and Sweden were able to most effectively overcome the global crisis.
Judging by the actions of the government during and after Qantar, it does not seem like the acting political regime is capable of producing real empathy, especially after Tokayev described the national tragedy, where at least 238 people died, as a “typical event in world history.” In banning satire, which up to this point was one of the last, safe ways citizens could exercise freedom of speech, the government has demonstrated to its constituents, as well as to its domestic and foreign investors and the whole international community, that it will not tolerate political humor. Given this, a call for empathy in politics may seem naive. I personally don’t believe that even after Tokayev leaves the presidency that we’ll have a government self-assured or secure enough to mourn with its people, to rejoice with us, or one that might be ready to view its mistakes with irony or satire.
A gathering in memory of those killed and victims of torture during Qandy Qantar (Bloody January) in 2022. The sign shows the names and photographs of the deceased from different cities in Kazakhstan during the events in January 2022.
Photo by Timur Nusimbekov
For now, my final point is this: if, at the end of this year, a journalist asks me to define the word of 2025, I already know what I’ll choose, and I will keep suggesting it until the final year of Tokayev’s “Second Republic.”
