At the start of the year, Kazakhstan marked the third anniversary of Bloody January (in Kazakh, Qandy Qantar), the largest anti-government protests in the country’s modern history. What started on January 2, 2022, as peaceful rallies in Zhanaozen in response to rising gas prices quickly escalated into nationwide demonstrations, with thousands demanding political reforms. In some areas, the protests devolved into riots, which the current administration violently suppressed.
From day one of the protests, security forces indiscriminately used excessive force against the crowds, including tear gas, stun grenades, and live ammunition. Later, President Kassym-Jomart Tokayev, labeling the protesters as “bandits” and “foreign-trained terrorists,” issued a chilling order – to “shoot to kill without warning.”
The tragic events, according to Kazakh authorities, claimed 238 lives, although the exact numbers are unlikely to be known under the current regime: despite numerous calls, Tokayev refused an international investigation, and the topic of the Bloody January victims remains taboo and suppressed by fear.
The ”Reforming” Game
Before the 2022 protests, Tokayev was entirely under the patronage of his predecessor, Nursultan Nazarbayev. However, as a result of the deadly January unrest, he strengthened his political position for the first time, consolidating all power in his hands at last, after having come into the presidency following Nazarbayev’s 2019 resignation. He removed virtually all of Nazarbayev’s clan’s influence, including Nazarbayev himself, stripping the former president of his ”lifetime right” to lead the Security Council.
In March 2022, Tokayev announced a reform agenda aimed at entering the era of justice – creating a “New Kazakhstan” – which was intended to renew the state apparatus and liberalize the party system. Tokayev’s “unprecedented” course envisioned enhancing the role of civil society institutions but, most importantly, reducing his own power. For the people of Kazakhstan, profoundly shaken by the deadly events, Tokayev’s “fiery greeting” seemed to offer a much-needed balm for the nation’s wounded spirit; however, the subsequent phase of action proved to be disappointingly brief. Dreaming of fundamental reforms within a political system that Tokayev himself had contributed to building and reinforcing for decades was overly optimistic.
The “New Kazakhstan” technically began with amendments to the constitution through a nationwide referendum – which seemed like a departure from the previous practice, when Nazarbayev often made unilateral changes by decree.
Under Tokayev, the fundamental law was revised to shift toward a presidential system with a strong parliament, departing from the previous “super-presidential” model. Shortly afterward, the Constitutional Court was restored, which subsequently annulled a law granting Nazarbayev immunity from prosecution and protection of his property. As another symbolic step, Tokayev approved renaming the capital to Astana, reversing his 2019 decision to name it Nur-Sultan after Nazarbayev. All of this, taken together, appeared to represent symbolic gestures aimed at reducing the influence of Nazarbayev’s legacy.
Farce of Elections
Serik Beysembaev and Aliya Tlegenova’s September 2024 analysis, published by the Carnegie Center, thoroughly examines the essence of Tokayev’s reforms. The authors argue that the true nature of Tokayev’s reforms became evident during key political events, such as the snap presidential (November 2022) and parliamentary (March 2023) elections. Their analysis highlighted the authoritarian nature of the current administration, noting that both electoral campaigns were marred by familiar “fraud and pressure on independent observers.”
The minimal timeframe for the presidential elections effectively excluded serious candidates from the race. Tokayev announced the elections on September 1, 2022, and voting took place two-and-a-half months later. Notably, the incumbent president had obvious advantages – media dominance and the image of a “reformer,” both domestically and abroad. This gave him unprecedented influence, making competition insignificant from the outset. The composition of the opponents, consisting of little-known and politically insignificant figures, further emphasized the one-sided nature of the electoral process. The only recognizable name, aside from Tokayev, was that of Zhiguli Dairabaev, whose campaign failed to attract voters (taking just 3.33 percent of the vote). Ultimately, the election results (81 percent in favor of Tokayev) reinforced an image characteristic of authoritarian countries and were described by international media as “elections without a choice.”
After the predictable electoral triumph and superficial reforms, the main focus of the political strategy shifted to consolidating power. In this regard, the parliamentary renewal became part of the simulation of democracy under authoritarianism. Indeed, the slogan “Shal ket!” (“Old man, leave!” – referring to former President Nazarbayev), which became the symbol of the tragic January protests, dictated the necessity for the president to remain outside the party struggle in the new political reality. However, the election process again proved predictable, and OSCE observers reported violations in the parliamentary polls.
Purge Without Political Will
The initial thrust of Tokayev’s consolidation of power was a relatively simple and effective “purge” – the removal of close associates and relatives of the old elite. Key figures, such as Karim Massimov – the former head of the National Security Committee (KNB), who was sentenced for treason in the wake of the January events – as well as relatives of the former president, Kairat Boranbayev and Kairat Satybaldy, who were arrested for embezzling state assets, became part of this process. According to the authorities’ plan, the removals were supposed to demonstrate a desire for renewal.
However, a controversial practice emerged that allowed convicted oligarchs to negotiate their freedom by repenting and returning illegally obtained assets to the state. Satybaldy, sentenced to six years in prison, and Boranbayev, sentenced to eight years, were released after returning their billions to the state treasury. The latter was even reinstated as president of the National Paralympic Committee. After the January events, the ex-president’s son-in-law Timur Kulibayev left his post as chairman of Kazenergy but remains one of the country’s wealthiest citizens, with an estimated fortune of over $5 billion, according to Forbes. These examples not only expose deep contradictions in the justice system under Tokayev but also undermine trust in the government’s stated commitment to reforms, reducing them to empty rhetoric.
Breakthrough Under Pressure
A landmark highlight of Tokayev’s presidency was the signing of the so-called “Saltanat’s Law” in 2024 – a bill introducing criminal liability for domestic violence against women.
In 2017, Kazakhstan had decriminalized domestic violence, a decision that further entrenched its normalization within society. With around 400 women dying annually in Kazakhstan from domestic violence, according to the U.N., the question remains whether the 2024 law will be a solution or yet another attempt to mask real social issues.
The law was named after Saltanat Nukenova, who was brutally murdered in 2023 by her husband, Kuandyk Bishimbayev, a former Minister of National Economy. Bishimbayev, a prominent figure of the Nazarbayev era, was closely associated with the first president and symbolized loyalty to the old regime. Before the murder, the former official had been sentenced to 10 years in prison for embezzlement and bribery, only to be swiftly pardoned by Nazarbayev and released early. Saltanat’s Law was passed against the backdrop of his high-profile trial, in which Bishimbayev was sentenced to 24 years in prison.
But Saltanat’s Law was not the result of a government initiative. Instead, it was the outcome of pressure from civil society, which successfully pushed for its proposal and adoption. The key positive aspect here is the notable rise in political awareness among the Kazakh population, which resulted in increasing demands for accountability from the authorities – a phenomenon that seemed impossible during Nazarbayev’s era.
The Nuclear Lobby
Last autumn, Tokayev announced another referendum inviting citizens to vote on the question of whether Kazakhstan should construct a nuclear power plant (NPP), a decision seemingly driven by public criticism of the initiative.
The choice of the NPP construction site – Ulken village on the shores of Lake Balkhash, one of the country’s critical water resources – has raised serious concerns among environmentalists and experts. They warn that any accident or leakage could exacerbate the region’s already critical water crisis. The primary source of public apprehension, however, lies in the enduring legacy of Soviet nuclear tests at the Semipalatinsk test site, which continues to cast a long shadow over the collective memory of Kazakhstani society.
Equally pressing are questions about the economic feasibility of the project. The Ministry of Energy of Kazakhstan promised the creation of 8,000 jobs and a boost to the country’s energy independence, yet these claims remain unsubstantiated. The construction cost – $12 billion – sparks concerns about increasing the country’s debt burden, given the lack of transparency in expenditure and the absence of independent oversight.
Particular concern surrounds the potential involvement of Russia’s Rosatom as a contractor. For Russia, exporting nuclear technology has long been a tool of geopolitical influence. Rosatom has already signed agreements with Uzbekistan and Kyrgyzstan, reflecting the Kremlin’s intention to strengthen its influence in Central Asia. Amid the ongoing war in Ukraine, Rosatom has gained a reputation as an instrument of Kremlin interests, as exemplified by the situation at the Zaporizhzhia Nuclear Power Plant, effectively held hostage by Moscow. Choosing Rosatom entails the risk of increasing Kazakhstan’s dependency on Moscow, to the detriment of the country’s national security interests. Also, the experiences of other countries, such as Turkiye and Egypt, show that partnerships with Russia’s Atomic Energy Corporation often involve delays, a lack of transparency, and complications arising from international sanctions.
The burden of deciding fell on the people, who, in the end, were arguably reduced to mere instruments in yet another façade of democracy. The referendum appeared more as a formal exercise, marked by intimidation, designed to legitimize a pre-determined decision. The Kazakh government dominated the media landscape, transforming it into a vehicle for the one-sided promotion of nuclear advocacy: independent surveys were suppressed, interviews with critics faced censorship and fines, and coverage focused solely on the purported “advantages” of the project, ignoring safety or environmental risks.
Based on official data, 71 percent of voters backed the initiative; however, according to independent polls, one-third of respondents (32.4 percent) doubted the credibility of the referendum results.
Under the Spotlight of Censorship
Despite Tokayev’s assurances that there are no politically motivated prisoners in the “New Kazakhstan,” human rights defenders debunk this myth by citing specific examples. For example, in 2023, journalist Aigerim Tleuzhan received four years in prison for allegedly plotting to seize Almaty airport during the January events, and political activist Marat Zhilanbayev, who demanded an investigation into the January events, was sentenced to seven years. Freedom of speech in the “New Kazakhstan” remains as illusory as it was under Nazarbayev, if not worse. One recent example is the detention of Temirlan Yensebek, the founder of the satirical QazNews24 public page, who was accused of inciting interethnic hatred and the detention of many other activists protesting his detention.
A new mass media law appears only to strengthen state power, ensuring government monitoring of all publications, and the vague definition of “extremism” becomes an ideal tool for suppressing legitimate criticism. The law essentially bans the activities of foreign media and journalists without state accreditation, which, according to Human Rights Watch, gives the government a convenient loophole to exclude those who criticize the authorities from the profession.
“New Kazakhstan,” under Tokayev’s leadership, continues to exhibit weak performance in international rankings while retaining the practices of the old regime. According to Freedom House, the media landscape remains under stringent control by the state and its affiliated business groups. Freedom of speech and assembly face significant restrictions, and dissent is met with punitive measures. Civil society is under constant pressure, grappling with increased repression and legal restrictions on foreign funding. Simultaneously, the political elite strives to create the illusion of democratic reforms and equality, actively utilizing Western legal and financial mechanisms to protect their interests abroad.
After three years of attempting to establish Tokayev’s “New Kazakhstan,” this concept increasingly appears to be a rhetorical facade maintaining an autocratic governance model. Built upon the bloody foundation of the January 2022 events, Kazakhstan’s elite continues to simulate democracy while strictly adhering to authoritarian rules.