Balancing act between freedom and extremism

On this late summer evening, there is a cosy atmosphere in Samarkand, on Uzbekistan’s Silk Road. The colourful spotlights of the light show flicker over Koran verses on the walls of the madrasas in time to the music. And high above, in the large, open windows of the Koran schools, you can see women dancing in colourful robes.

The madrasas, traditional places of religious instruction and Koran study, now form the backdrop for an impressive synthesis of history and the present. But not everyone likes it. I feel a Saudi journalist next to me shifting restlessly in his chair and his expression darkening. After the performance, he turns to me and says with a hint of indignation: “How can they turn a holy place of Islam into a disco?” That is blasphemy!”

The scene takes place on Samarkand’s majestic Registan Square with its three madrasahs, which was once a center of learning and spirituality, later a marketplace and is now considered a top attraction on any trip to Uzbekistan. The Sharq Taronalari (Melodies of the Orient) music festival has been held here every two years since 1997, where over 25 countries present their folk music and dances.

Russia is not taboo

The arrival of President Shawkat Mirziyoyev is greeted with loud applause. Patriotic images are shown simultaneously on the large screens on both sides of the square: the impressive construction projects in Tashkent, magnificent buildings of the Timurid dynasty, interspersed with images of state visits by political dignitaries, including Vladimir Putin. Russia is not taboo in Uzbekistan, on the contrary. You quickly hear Russian everywhere anyway. And the Russian ambassador is one of the festival’s guests of honor, as is the Swiss ambassador.

The President’s speech, however, is in Uzbek, and translation assistance is only available to a select group of diplomats and high-ranking guests in the front rows. My knowledge of the language and the country’s history is rudimentary, but I can still understand some key terms: for example, the President’s reference to the festival showing the “humanistic essence of Islam.”

The term “humanistic Islam” today seems to capture the essence of Uzbekistan’s relationship with religion. The country, with its rich and eventful history, bears the traces of many eras and faiths. Zoroastrianism has left its mark here, as has Islam, which has shaped the country since the 8th century. But Jews and Christians also found their home in the Uzbek regions. The Soviet era with its officially prescribed atheism added another layer. And now, in the young 33 years of independence, a new generation of Uzbeks is searching for its identity between tradition and modernity.

Under the rule of Islam Karimov (1938-2016), the long-time president of Uzbekistan, Islam was firmly under state control. The Muslim call to prayer, Adhan, and wearing the hijab in public were banned. After Karimov’s death, religious reforms were also introduced as part of a careful opening of the country.

Liberalization, although carefully dosed, has had unintended consequences. While the state has tried to promote a “secular” interpretation of Islam, illiberal Islamic movements have used the new-found freedom of the media to spread their conservative understanding of Islam. For example, imams now preach on social platforms the benefits of a conservative appearance for women and praise the requirement to cover their faces.

When I traveled through Uzbekistan a few years ago, there were hardly any women on the streets of Bukhara and Samarkand with their hair covered. Today, however, the hijab is a common sight. “Many Uzbeks feel a real hunger for religion,” explains Asliddin Yunusow, a young historian from Navoi province. One reason for this is that enlightened Uzbeks understood Islam Karimov’s politics, but criticized that – unlike Kemal Atatürk, the founder of the Republic of Turkey – he did not invest enough in education and enlightenment.

In order to combat illiberal Islamic currents, the Uzbek Committee for Religious Affairs has published a list of materials, texts and forums that have been classified as extremist and terrorist and are banned in Uzbekistan. These include Telegram and YouTube channels, Facebook, Instagram and Tiktok, as well as religious websites, books and songs, so-called nasheeds. It is noteworthy that this list includes numerous channels and platforms that are hardly objected to by Western authorities. The most recent example is the jihadist nasheeds that the Solingen attacker was able to listen to in the asylum home.

Women’s rights under threat

It is not only Muslim visitors from other countries who criticize Uzbekistan’s ambivalent approach to Islam, but also human rights organizations. According to Human Rights Watch, the Uzbek government continues to restrict religious freedom, and the authorities consider even permissible forms of religiosity to be “extremism.”

Many Uzbeks do not understand the criticism. “We are not against Islam, but against fundamentalist Islam,” explains a young woman who I meet as a volunteer at the festival in Samarkand. She is studying languages ​​at the Samarkand State Institute of Foreign Languages. It is always easier to criticize from a distance, she continues. But she is also primarily concerned about women’s rights in Uzbekistan.

Uzbek feminists look to Afghanistan with concern. When the Taliban regime came to power there again in August 2021, there were isolated scenes of jubilation in the Uzbek border region with Afghanistan – which were assumed to have been ignored. For enlightened Uzbek women, Afghanistan is indeed a painful reminder of their own struggle.

In the 1920s, the Soviet government initiated the Hujum campaign, a comprehensive movement for the emancipation of women in Central Asia. “Hujum” means “attack” in Uzbek. The campaign aimed to combat veiling, child marriage and the educational disadvantage of women.

A central role was played by the fight against the Paranja, the traditional full-body veil worn by women. Officially, despite Soviet support, it was a long and dangerous fight. Women who joined the Hujum movement and publicly removed their Paranjas were often the target of attacks by conservative Muslims. Many paid for their efforts with their lives.

“The Hujum movement was a turning point in our history,” Gulnara, a feminist from Tashkent, tells me. “It laid the foundation for the education and emancipation of Uzbek women.” The increasing visibility of the hijab in public spaces is viewed with mixed feelings by many Uzbek women. On the one hand, they see it as a sign of religious freedom, but on the other, they fear creeping conservatism.

A synagogue in Bukhara

However, the religious landscape of Uzbekistan is not just Islam, it is more diverse. About 270 kilometers west of Samarkand, in the middle of the winding streets of Bukhara, lies one of the oldest synagogues in the country. At the entrance we are greeted by national guardsmen who search our bags – a new measure since the war between Gaza and Israel.

Inside, the rabbi greets us, surrounded by books in Russian and Hebrew. A Russian weekly newspaper on the table forms a spiritual connection to the distant Holy Land. When asked about Jewish life in Bukhara, the rabbi simply replied: “Very nice.” He points to the guards at the entrance – they are a sign of state care – and adds: “The Jews in Bukhara are better off than those in Israel.”

The bare numbers, however, paint a less rosy picture. Bukhara was once home to more than 20,000 Jews. Today, there are only about 200. Many Jews emigrated during the Soviet era, mainly due to the anti-religious policies of the socialist regime.

The innovations in the post-Soviet country’s religious and especially Islamic policy may be of particular interest to Western observers – especially in view of developments in neighboring Afghanistan. But Uzbekistan has also experienced many other reforms in recent years. This applies, for example, to the economic reforms that Uzbekistan has been implementing since 2017; it is about opening up the Uzbek markets to international investors. However, implementation is proving difficult, and is being slowed down by corruption and bureaucracy. The risk of setbacks is increased by the continued dominance of the state in the economy as well as by the strong dependence on raw material exports.

Bodo Thöns, a German expert on Uzbekistan who lives in Tashkent, sees the development as positive. He stresses that “the most important, all-pervasive progress” is Uzbekistan’s return to the world community. Thanks to the reforms, the country is adapting to international standards.

The delicious hospitality

Travelers to Uzbekistan may enjoy the oriental stereotypes as an aesthetic experience. The exoticisms and clichés are part of Uzbek self-image and tourism strategy. But behind the facade reveals a country in transition, cautiously opening itself up to a complex, geopolitically charged world. Uzbekistan seeks recognition for its rich history as well as its recent reforms.

But the future prospects remain uncertain, clouded by pressing questions about religion, democratic development and the influence of external actors. Despite all the tensions between tradition and modernity, between openness and preservation, the proverbial hospitality of the Uzbeks remains a constant. Together with the rich cultural heritage, this makes Uzbekistan an invaluable travel destination.