Research Encounter: Studying an Owner
Traders and other service workers at the bazaar are highly visible; they arrive day in and day out. Owners, on the other hand, often do not show their faces or appear at the bazaars themselves. They appoint administrators to oversee the daily workings and to manage relations within the bazaar. They hire controllers to collect rental fees from the traders on a daily, weekly, or monthly basis, depending on the bazaar. In some parts of Central Asia, for example in Kazakhstan, traders and the general public often do not know who the owners are; bazaar politics appear shrouded in mystery and secrecy.
A culture of suspicion and the self-censorship of such topics by journalists made research particularly challenging. In such contexts, it took persistence to track down individuals who had deep knowledge of those who controlled bazaars and their backgrounds. 1
Kyrgyzstan, however, is different. Bazaar owners, including Askar Salymbekov of Dordoi bazaar, are well known among traders, analysts, and the media. Salymbekov has given many interviews to press outlets over the decades, as I discovered in my library research, and has been present and active in the affairs of the bazaar over time. He has also held multiple political positions. This public presence is precisely part of the story of his work renarrating his role as bazaar founder and owner amid perceptions of the notorious rise of self-interested oligarchs across the post-Soviet region.
At the same time, however, I noted his relative absence in other parts of Kyrgyzstani political life, including some political protests in the 2000s.
Such protests, organized by elite politicians, toppled two presidents in the country, and became an accepted form of political communication under the country’s first two authoritarian leaders. Yet Salymbekov was notice- ably absent from the November 2006 protests, one of many during this time organized by members of the opposition to the then-president.
I arrived in Bishkek on November 1, 2006, from Almaty, Kazakhstan, and immediately observed everyone talking about the “meeting,” or politi- cal rally, in the center of the city to be held the next day. The rally had been announced months ago by the opposition movement “For Reform,” which included many prominent businessmen-politicians. The leaders demanded constitutional reform from the government tandem of President Bakiev and Prime Minister Kulov. Because of the potential for violence and unrest, I was advised to stay home and not leave my apartment. The fear of a repeat of March 24, 2005, when the president was overthrown and looting occurred throughout the city, proved palpable. All big stores and shops in the main part of the city closed on November 2. I was thankful that I had been able to stockpile basic food provisions when I arrived the day before.
Beginning that afternoon at 3 p.m., I watched the ensuing rallies and protests covered live on the television station NTS. From the coverage, I could see crowds starting to gather in the square. The three local newspapers I had bought the night before were packed with details about the planned meetings. Many speakers addressed the thousands of people in the crowds, in Russian and in Kyrgyz, railing on the corruption of the Bakiev regime and calling for constitutional reform and a parliamentary system. The pro- tests continued for the next six days. After the first day at home, I continued to observe the unfolding processes at the office of a local think tank I was affiliated with at the time, the Institute for Public Policy. Life continued amid the peaceful protests until November 7, six days after they began.
On that Tuesday afternoon, the director of the institute sent all staff home. The demonstrations rapidly became tenser and opposition protest- ers clashed with pro-government forces. Protests continued the next day, as crowds increased and both opposition and government multiplied the num- ber of tents and yurts on the main square. The day after that, on November 9, after many behind-the-scenes meetings and negotiations, the parliament voted and passed a new constitution, formally granting more power to itself. 2 As I stepped back to analyze the political logic of these events, Salym- bekov’s absence stood out. I later understood that this was not an acci- dent, and that it is just as important to investigate those who stay on the
sidelines and out of the limelight, in addition to those who are most visible.
Through my conversations with analysts in the region, including multiple individuals who previously worked in government apparatuses, the tack- ing between seemingly opposite logics of protest and silence, passing and avoiding legislation, and other such strategies, became clear. The political work and constant maneuvering of this owner allowed for Dordoi bazaar’s relatively stability and the possibility that it could become a prominent island of order in the country.
The last chapter argued that as Dordoi bazaar grew and expanded throughout the 1990s and 2000s, traders helped to create order at the bazaar by starting a trade union and collectively organizing, advocating, and solving problems they faced.
This chapter shifts the focus from the perspective of the traders to its main bazaar founder and owner, Askar Salymbekov. The ongoing work of the trade union was predicated on a single main private owner of bazaar land. Salymbekov’s role in securing ownership through creating a narrative that legitimated his role, form- ing a security apparatus, and navigating a fluid political context allowed the trade union to govern as described in the last chapter. His efforts combined with those of the traders and the trade union provided the foundation for the bazaar to expand over the 2000s.
Thus, in short, we cannot investigate the role of the traders and their collec- tive organization in isolation; their work was predicated on an owner willing to provide basic stability and infrastructure and channel their interests to the highest political levels. Yet it would be mistaken to also view the owner as simply a transmission belt working on behalf of the traders; owners had their interests in making profits based on the collection of rental fees for land, and in his case, using the bazaars as a launching pad for other business ventures.
Such a profit-oriented, self-interested interpretation might view him as an
“oligarch,” “patron,” or “predatory bandit,” as often presumed in post-Soviet soci- eties. Such narratives based on new-institutional economist or rational-choice thinking might tell the following story: after beating out other roving bandits in the 1990s and more successfully collecting revenues and securing control at the bazaar as a stationary bandit, 3 Salymbekov then mobilized poor, village-level constituencies in a competitive, authoritarian electoral environment, seeking from them as clients their votes in exchange for various types of goods, such as money, food, inputs, and infrastructure. As typical of oligarchic behavior, then, he captured state institutions such as parliament to lobby for his own private interests. 4 Driven by self-interest and profit alone, in this rendition, order at the bazaar is a top-down creation involving the use of force and mobilization of informal relations dictated by he who sits at the helm.
Some analysts, activists, and traders in Kyrgyzstan have indeed referred to him as an oligarch, baron, or patron. In fact, within society and among traders, these characterizations are hotly contested. Such labels presuppose a certain consensus that I argue was in flux for much of the 1990s and 2000s. This chapter asks how he himself understood his role at the bazaar, how he articulated the challenges he faced, and how he acted on them.
We see how, just like many traders in the 1990s, he struggled with his new profession and identity: initially, it was neither natural nor legitimate to “own” a bazaar, given societal and cultural stigmas against trade. Moreover, Salymbekov’s ability to create and maintain order at the bazaar entailed not only gaining for- mal property rights to the land and adopting a narrative that legitimized his claims but also governing the bazaar “diplomatically” in such a way that validated the work of the trade union and defended his ownership of the bazaar from oth- ers in this tumultuous first two decades of independence. Instead of viewing his actions through the lens of a predatory, stationary bandit seeking to maximize profit, 5 we instead must look at how he sought to survive and adapt in an inaus- picious political context. 6 More specifically, what is often missing from studies of elite political action, and of oligarchs in particular, is an emphasis on context, experience and intuition as the drivers of decision making, not only “analytic rationality” based on interests, plans, and rules. 7 This chapter seeks to demon- strate the importance of a range of logics, actions, and choices that resulted in his relatively stable control of Dordoi bazaar of the first quarter-century of Kyr- gyzstan’s independence.
Nomenklatura Origins as Komsomol
Dordoi bazaar lies on the northern outskirts of the capital city on 80 hectares (about 200 acres) of land. During the Soviet period, except for a small second- hand flea market that took place on the weekends, the land stood empty. The bazaar’s main founder, Askar Salymbekov, transformed this space from an ad hoc “spontaneous” flea market, where traders sold goods out of car trunks and blankets to a more centralized and organized bazaar. As in other parts of the post-Soviet region, the origins of property access and business opportunities in the early 1990s Kyrgyz Republic favored nomenklatura . Salymbekov graduated from Kyrgyz State University in the Department of History and Economics and worked for the Soviet youth party committee, the Komsomol, in Frunze (now Bishkek) during the Soviet period.
Membership in the Komsomol gave him training and experience in manage- ment and politics. One journalist asked him in 1998: “Askar Maatkabylovich,
if you believe the social structure of post-Soviet society, then more than any- thing, businessmen came from technical intelligentsia, party nomenklatura, and shadow economy workers. . . . You are which one?” He answered, “From the Kom- somol. I was the Secretary of the Komsomol organization in physical culture and medical institutes. . . . The Komsomol taught me not only how to dutifully stay in line, but also how to manage people and be a leader.” 8 By the end of the Soviet period, he had become head of Frunze’s sport department, also directing the Federation of Sport Journalists. He also oversaw the city’s municipal office for marketplaces, which provided him with key insights and networks that would become the foundation for his future wealth.
In the early 1990s, equipped with experience and political connections at the municipal level, he adapted them to a new market context. According to a 1995 interview with Salymbekov, as the Soviet Union was collapsing, he noticed many smaller, spontaneous marketplaces emerging throughout the city. He observed, however, an acute need for a larger wholesale market: 9
At that moment, I was the head of [Bishkek] the city sports depart- ment . . . I wanted to try this kind of business. . . . All our other markets were full already and traders needed some new places to do their busi- nesses. As you know, the market economy was one of the key elements of [President] Akaev’s reform program. The market plays a very impor- tant role for us; if we have markets full of different goods and in big volumes, it means that prices are going to be low and people’s income will grow. . . . In this way, our company began working to continue the improvement of marketplace construction.
Salymbekov’s connections with local municipal officials in the 1990s facilitated his acquisition of necessary access and documentation to acquire land and begin construction.
To learn how to build a big, international wholesale marketplace, Salymbekov traveled to Tashkent and Moscow in 1995. He realized in his foreign travels that the location of marketplaces was crucial; people from different parts of the coun- try and neighboring states would need to be able to easily access it. This meant new roads and adequate territory for parking spaces. He observed that bazaars in the city center became increasingly congested and overrun by traders without requisite infrastructure to support the trade. 10
The location of Dordoi on the outskirts of Bishkek had the potential to be convenient for regional and international travelers, yet not without additional investment: Salymbekov worked to get new roads built to the bazaar from the city center and outlying regions, and also to reconfigure electricity and power lines. Crucially, Salymbekov’s business did not entail directly buying or selling
consumer goods. As one of his staff members stated in 2003: “Our merchants buy goods, transfer them through cargo services, and sell them all by themselves. We do not assist them with anything but places to sell and addressing administrative issues.” 11
These administrative issues, including infrastructure upgrades, proved chal- lenging given the high levels of corruption and bureaucratic inefficiency, as Salymbekov himself stated in 1998: “Collecting signatures for certain documents is still hell for us. Since November, we have been collecting signatures. We are going to each institution and asking to put signatures here and there. . . . See, they could have easily allowed us to finish the work. But bureaucracy is about collecting signatures. . . . Due to such bureaucratic hell, many [other] workers have abandoned their business.” 12 His connections with municipal authorities based on his previous government positions assisted in his ability to reconfigure transportation and power infrastructure to enable the bazaar to attract custom- ers and grow in size.
Controlling land, and later shipping containers, became an important source of wealth in Central Asia. Yet recalling the changing meanings associated with trade and bazaars discussed in chapter 2 , Salymbekov also confronted stereotypes about embarking on a new profession in the 1990s. He recounted in a 2012 inter- view public perceptions surrounding his initial decision to create Dordoi bazaar and be its bazarkom , or formal administrator: 13
Many people said to me when I was building Dordoi: “What are you doing? You are a member of the sport committee and now you are giv- ing that all up and going to become a bazarkom? And moreover you chose a place [to build it] next to a cemetery?” This is how our people used to think back then: a Kyrgyz should be a lawyer, an economist, or a business executive. And then my business started picking up, and those who laughed came to me saying, “Give me a container!” As much as possible, I haven’t refused anyone.
Earlier articles about Salymbekov’s role in founding the bazaar similarly recounted the surprise that his friends and family members conveyed when he quit his job and started this bazaar in an “unknown place in the city.” 14 These comments reflect the significant changes occurring during this time about the meaning and appropriateness in society not only of the burgeoning trade and bazaar economy, but also the role of owner.
Salymbekov did not found Dordoi alone; his partner in this business was an old classmate and friend from their time as students at Kyrgyz National University, Kubatbek Baibolov. With a Soviet KGB background, having served in Afghanistan and Moscow in foreign intelligence, Baibolov retired after the
collapse of the USSR and began to work in the Bishkek city administration and in business. Baibolov’s wife, Nurzhamal Baibolova, also had a background in the KGB and served on the country’s National Security Committee in the early 1990s under President Akaev before legally taking over her husband’s stake in the bazaar in 1996 when he became a member of parliament. 15 While these primary founders and owners of Dordoi bazaar were not directly related via kinship to President Akaev or his family, both Salymbekov and Baibolov had good relations with the Akaev family. 16
The importance of these nomenklatura bazaar founders confirms the broader post-Soviet finding that individuals of this status benefited economically after the collapse of the Soviet Union. Nomenklatura at multiple levels of governance (local, regional, or national) and in the main spheres of life (party, military, uni- versities, media, and factories), enjoyed access to goods and services that most ordinary people did not possess. Against the backdrop of new resolutions per- mitting a wider range of economic activity in the late 1980s, they used their political power to acquire economic wealth by mobilizing their personal con- nections to gain access to land and make cash-based profits from new business ventures. Nomenklatura businessmen who converted their administrative capital into economic opportunity have been well documented in Russia, the Caucasus and the Black Earth region in Eastern Europe. 17
The logic of nomenklatura business success similarly applies to Central Asia, including Kyrgyzstan. Well-connected Soviet elite used their political connec- tions and status to acquire property and improve infrastructure, allowing mar- ketplaces including Dordoi to expand and thrive. 18 While members of the Presi- dential Akaev family acquired stakes in many businesses by the late 1990s, most bazaars were founded and controlled by individuals unrelated directly to the presidential family. 19 Yet as the wealth generated by these bazaars increased, so too did threats from presidential family members and other elites.
Conceptualizing Bazaar Work: Business as Diplomacy
Over the course of the 2000s, regimes throughout the post-Soviet region sought to dismantle the economic foundation of newly wealthy individuals—especially as they began to assert political ambitions. 20 In many cases, property and assets were redistributed to Presidents and their families or allies using both legal and illegal methods, both subsumed under the term reiderstvo , or the nonconsen- sual redistribution of property. Kyrgyzstan proved no exception. 21 The country’s first two presidents, Akaev and Bakiev, backed by administrative and coercive
resources of the state, held many lucrative businesses by the end of their reigns in 2005 and 2010, respectively.
Bazaar owners experienced and articulated constant threats to their hold- ings. Dordoi bazaar owner Salymbekov, for example, described in 2012 his orientation to these threats: “Many officials, including from the highest ech- elons of power, look at our success with a certain amount of envy. They have attempted to get into our business, or take it away, and we have had to make diplomatic moves to keep our business. Where can you go to? You can’t go anywhere. Sometimes we had to lead difficult negotiations.” 22 Salymbekov articulated the means through which he has secured his business using the lan- guage of diplomatic moves and negotiations; he did not refer to exit, violence, political allegiance, or alliances—categories that have been used to explain the relative success of property holders and business leaders in such contexts. 23 The language of diplomacy and negotiation as strategies to defend property claims and protect business interests suggests a set of interactions that are constantly confronted and reshaped.
Later in the interview, when asked to elaborate on the logic of diplomacy in business, Salymbekov more concretely described what he meant and referred to the importance of flexible maneuvering in uncertain conditions: “I have to be flexible, I need to lead negotiations. One needs to take into account hundreds of factors; to control the situation, to know many things. To know when to compro- mise and when not to. Danger is everywhere—on the right, on the left. It is neces- sary to maneuver. A wave is coming, dive in; up ahead [lies] an obstacle, climb a tree.” 24 Implicit in this quote is the importance of accumulated knowledge and experience to make decisions about when to “compromise” and how to “maneu- ver” if danger is ahead. While these strategies have included back room deals with officials or what might be understood as political “loyalty” to the regime, such a perspective presumes a stable political context and attributes too much authority and control to the regime. People such as Salymbekov negotiate, maneuver, and learn to control the situation as the context demands.
He underscored the importance of intuition and experience in this 2011 inter- view when asked about the secrets of his success: “You must carefully consider every project. When we started to set up Dordoi, we operated on intuition. But intuition is [only] good when you are already acquainted with other experience, when you have already visited other countries and observed what they have. . . . This is how it worked out for us.” 25 As he confronted challenges in the course of building the bazaar, the diplomatic nature of his actions and relationships draw- ing on years of experience and intuition proved crucial for Salymbekov. One key to being able to navigate these changing contexts and negotiate tricky busi- ness deals—including those related to expropriation—was his active discursive