Тоҷикистон, бедор шав!

(EDIT: Thank you to reader Parvina for correcting my attempts at the Tajik alphabet)

Let me be perfectly honest about this particular update: I didn't want to write it. Ever since I got to Dushanbe, I've been hoping I would find something that would prove certain conceptions I’d had about the country wrong. It’s been a little over a month, and while certain elements of the content have changed, the basic message has not. I know I’m not qualified to write this, nor am I, as an American, someone who can or will do anything to alter circumstances as they are. But I’m writing this, in the hope that someone who can make a change, who should make a change, will.

That being said: Тоҷикистон, бедор шав. Tajikistan, wake up.

Over the last month here, I've met people ranging from housewives to academics, octogenarians to students. And even after a month, I can say with 100% certainty that every single person I've talked to has given me a common consensus. That being, the government of Emomali Rahmon, the PDP, and their related branches are ineffective at the best, and corrupt and worthless at the worst. This is a country where there are massive water shortages, yet more fountains than you can shake a stick at (which never seem to stop going at the President’s Palace, of all places…). This is a country where infrastructure is an afterthought. This is a country where the biggest sources of income are foreign aid and remittances from guest workers abroad. This is a country where food and power shortages will kill people, lots of them, when (not if) the winter comes.

And I have to ask, why?

Why, 15 years after the end of a civil war, why 21 years after the collapse of the Soviet Union, is Tajikistan still the poorest of the poor? Oh, there are reasons. The fact this was, to use the “professional” term, the Russian Empire/USSR’s “resource bitch” didn't help the lack of infrastructure. And the civil war was bad, yes. But these are excuses, not unchangeable facts of nature. This is a nation of around seven million people, an actual multiethnic society. Oh, it still has problems, if Khorugh in July is any indication.

But after a month here, and after talking to people (some of whom I would like to consider friends), I want this country to wake up. I want this country to realize that things aren't working, that things are wrong, and that they have the ability to change them. What I am calling for is for Tajiks, in the government, in the universities, in the businesses, in the homes, to look at themselves. There are people here who know 4 or 5 languages and are, in their respective fields, some of the smartest and most insightful people I think I've ever met.

And half of them want to leave the country because there’s nothing left for them here.

This is your greatest loss Tajikistan. Not your freedoms, not your securities, not your (relative) prosperity, but your mind, your youth, your life-blood. This is what will perpetuate a culture of corruption, inadequacy, and degradation that has taken hold over much of the former Soviet Union. It will take time to fix; nothing can be solved quickly, because revolutions don’t fix anything. But as one Tajik said, “Things are safe now. We aren't afraid of war, or violence here.” That’s good, but that’s complacency, and complacency doesn't breed success.

Hell, at this point, I’m not even saying the change has to come from the bottom up. Rahmon and his ilk have situated themselves nicely in a position of power, maybe (however unlikely) they can be agents of change. 

Such leaders have been “enlightened” before. But something has to change. I don’t say this in the sense that there will be violence. I say this in the sense that Central Asia is about to change radically in 2014, and if no one, not just Tajikistan but the rest of the lot, is thinking about what to do afterwards, (aside from the apparent mentality “buy guns and mine the borders”) and how to encourage people that there are alternatives to despotism, whether secular or religious. Give people a stake in the system, because the current one is a shaky peace at the cost of socioeconomic ruin.

Well, that’s all I've got. If you read this far, many thanks, I know it was a struggle, and I’ll try not to make this blog a soapbox so I can voice my concerns about things going around here. The fact I’m writing this in English, as opposed to Tajiki or Russian doesn't exactly help my argument. And naturally if you think I’m wrong, tell me so, and we’ll see what we can do about educating me properly.

But if you take one thing away from this post, take this: There is hope, here in Dushanbe at least, for Tajikistan’s future. But it’s not hope that builds greatness.

As always: Tashakkur and khudo hafez.