After the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991, fifteen united republics became independent states.  The Soviet Union had grown significantly in the preceding seventy years and the Russian majority managed to spread their influence and power throughout their territories.  Among the many influences the Russians had on their minority neighbors was the power and significance of language: the Russian language.  
    
        Throughout its tenure the Soviet Union boasted efficiency and productivity in several fields including agriculture, labor and education.  What was most impressive is that the USSR recorded one hundred percent literacy across the Union.  They recorded literacy not in the republics’ native languages, but in Russian itself.  The problem faced in this paper is how nations dealt with native language literacy and its link to revived nationalism in the wake of the Soviet Union.
    
        Because the regions of the former Soviet Union are as broad and diverse as they are, I began my investigation in the nation of Uzbekistan.  Uzbek is a Turkic language, whereas Russian is Slavic.  I was particularly interested and fond of this nation given it’s proximity to the War on Terror, its relationship to the United States and its proximity to Afghanistan.  Like its neighbors, Uzbekistan is still adjusting in the Post-Soviet world.  Language, Uzbek literacy, and Uzbek nationalism are the least of its problems.  After a closer look I found that it’s neighbors: Turkmenistan, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan all share similar problems ranging from difficulty transitioning from a command economy to a capital economy to limiting out-migration.  
    
        While the countries are quite similar in landscape and were the extent of the Soviet Union’s reach into its southern border, Tajikistan stood apart from the other nations in that Tajik, like Russian, is a Slavic based language.  I found that my investigation would be more concise if I focused my attention on those countries that had similar language backgrounds.  As Turkmen, Kazakh, Uzbek and Kyrgyz are all Turkic languages, I felt I could extend my attention to all of them and would have a better understanding of the region’s nations and peoples.  By focusing on the Central Asian region (except Tajikistan) as a whole, I could also show that the problem of literacy and nationalism is not limited to one nation but is a disadvantage that touches all who felt the reach of the Soviet Union’s power.
    
        Unfortunately, the question of literacy and nationalism in the Post-Soviet era has found little scholarship.  A search through the George Mason University library system yielded no useful information.  What evidence I do have that this problem both exists and is serious is through interviews conducted by former volunteers of the Peace Corps who served their missions in Central Asia, a Program Director at American Councils for International Education (a non-profit organization that works with education between the United States and the former Soviet Union) who did his graduate work in Kazakhstan and lived for a short while in Kyrgyzstan. I also interviewed an ethnic Kazakh who’s doing her graduate work at George Mason University.  Given their experience and time in their respective Central Asian nations, I feel that these persons are the best source of information for the topic at hand.  In addition, their personal experiences in Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan (respectively) give them the authority to speak intelligently on the topic at hand.
    
        While some causes are specific to the nation in question, all nations share a similar background and overall effect by the Soviet Union’s Russian domination.  While the Soviet Union never claimed any primary nation, it seemed clear that the primary language was Russian.  Even in nations where a Russian population was at a bare minimum, Russian language and Russian schools were the premium choice. The nations knew they’re fate was in the hands of the Russians and if they were going to have any future for their children and their ethnicity, an understanding of Russian would be key in finding jobs in bigger cities, advanced industries and in general out of the pastoral lifestyle.  
    
        The greatest cause of the downfall of Turkic languages in the Central Asian nations was the abandonment of such languages for Russian.  Turkmen, Uzbek, Kazakh and Kyrgyz were all but forgotten in their respective nations.  For nearly seventy years Russian was adopted as the language of choice and advancement.  The Turkic languages were found with regularity only in the nations’ agricultural settings.  Thus, to change the language of choice from Russian to the nation’s native language was not only an abandonment of the authoritative class and culture, it was an abandonment of the peoples they had become.

        My first interview was with Thomas Mark a Program Assistant at American Councils for International Education in Washington, DC.   Mark volunteered for the Peace Corps in Turkmenistan from September of 1999 to September of 2001.  For two years Mark taught English as a Second Language in Turkmenabat, which is just south of the Amu Darya River.  While most of Turkmenistan is made up of rural villages Turkmenabat is a city and a Russified one at that.  Because he was an outsider working in the field of language, Mark’s account of his experience in Turkmenistan is rare and unlike the account I may have gotten from a Turkmen.

        Mark taught students in the third through tenth grades.  Upon his arrival in 1999, Turkmenistan had three official languages: Turkmen, Russian and English.  “Everyone wanted to learn English … whether they were a forty year old man or a ten year old kid,” Mark said of his arrival to Turkmenabat.  Two years later, though, only one official language remained: Turkmen.  

        While only making up nine percent of the population, Russians were granted citizenship upon Turkmenistan’s independence in 1991.  Like many of its neighbors, Turkmenistan also kept Russian as an official language to retain the skilled labor, the Russians.  Sometime in the last ten years, however, President Saparmurat Niyazov (also known as Turkmenbashi, head of all Turkmen) changed his stance from one of retention to one of nationalism.

        Perhaps the most backward and authoritative dictator of Central Asia, President Niyazov has to be commended for his push for nationalism.  He went so far as to rename days of the week and months in the Turkmen language.  Granted, they were the names of he and his family, but they weren’t Russian.  What is alarming, however, is Niyazov’s stance on education. Students in Turkmenistan only go through tenth grade and the government intends to shave a year off, graduating students upon completion of the ninth grade. 

        “That’s one of the most difficult things, education is getting worse and worse and the country is getting older” Mark said.  When asked what he thought was behind the change in education, Mark said “politically it’s good for the president … with a less educated culture, it’s easier to control the people.  Also, monetarily they don’t have enough money to support the teachers.  Education is very difficult in Turkmenistan.  They have a cotton harvest from mid September to late November where all the students go out in the fields to pick cotton.  Basically slave labor.  Teachers go out every two weeks.  They’re only in school eight to nine months out of the year” minus that harvest period.  Not only is the education program being cut by one year, but also the school year is stunted by the harvest.  At most, students are in the classroom just more than half the year.
       
        Another less significant, but still visible problem is that of the separation of the five tribes.  “There’s a tribal influence” Mark said “there are five tribes in Turkmen.”  While it’s not like a caste system, people do look down on those from other tribes.  “You don’t marry inter tribally; you’d be looked down upon by your village” Mark said. 

        Of greater importance, however, is that the tribes are divided by region.  “Lebap, where I lived, that’s one separate tribe” Mark said.  Lebap are considered less than Turkmen by the ruling Ashgabat-Mary tribe because (given their geography), “the Lebap don’t speak clean Turkmen, the language isn’t as [pure] … there’s so much intercultural exchange [that] what they speak [in the region] is called Charjewski, it’s a cross between Turkmen and Uzbek.  What they speak in Mary and Ashgabat is clean Turkmen, because they’re from that tribe.”

        Tribal lines grow blurry when in the urban areas, but a great deal of this blindness has to do with a reliance on Russian.  Nonetheless, those Turkmen who do speak the national language first and foremost are divided by their tribe and by their dialect making nationalism (for any tribe but Niyazov’s Ashgabat-Mary) very difficult.  Blame Niyazov or the Majilis (the president’s Turkmen parliament), whatever the case the government is to blame for the state of literacy and poor education in it’s schools making a push for nationalism that much harder.

        Just across the Amu Darya River, Joseph Jones served his mission with the Peace Corps in Uzbekistan.  Jones volunteered in the southern rural city of Qarshi from July 1999 to July 2001.  Like Mark, Jones taught English as a Second Language.  Jones’ vocation and continued interest in the languages and region make him an excellent resource of information.  

        Like Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan continues to suffer from the Russian domination of the Soviet Union.  While President Karimov, who is of Tajik descent, speaks better Russian and Tajik than he does Uzbek.  Uzbekistan also has an unusually large population for the region and yet a small percentage of ethnic Russians within its borders.  Like its neighbors, though, Uzbekistan was inundated with Russians, the Russian language and Russian culture in their cities.  

        Although the Uzbeks are a proud people and make a stronger push towards nationalism, Russian is still within their borders.  Jones explained the strength of Russian as it exists in everyday life.  For example, in the Uzbek post offices an Uzbek may speak to the clerk in Uzbek.  The Russian who follows the Uzbek will invariably speak Russian.  Because Russian is as common as it is in Uzbekistan, the clerk will respond in kind.  Should the following customer be of Uzbek descent, however, the conversation will not revert to Uzbek.  Jones explained that “once Russian is heard, it’s spoken.”  Uzbeks, Jones said, have a “hesitancy to use Uzbek because it might not be accepted.”

        Russian cannot be escaped.  The Uzbek government has named Uzbek its official language.  The language is to be used in all government offices, but reverts to Russian as an “administrative language.”  Jones called this a “product of Soviet legacy.”  Russians remain in positions of interest and skill in Uzbekistan’s major cities and those Uzbeks who now have jobs in the cities got there by going to Russian schools.  They too prefer and better know Russian than their own Uzbek.

        The position of the schools is of great interest in Uzbekistan today.  Before 1991 all students were required to take Russian; they also found Russian spoken in many of their other classes.  While Uzbek had its place and was popular in the rural areas, those who wanted to see their standard of living improve had no choice but to favor Russian as their language of preference.  Today, families and students are given the choice between Russian schools or Uzbek schools.  

        While all Russians invariably choose the Russian schools, it’s surprising to learn that many Uzbeks do the same.  “There’s still a sense of the power of [Russian] in Uzbekistan” Jones said.  “Most Uzbeks recognize that Russian will be of greater value than Uzbek if they wish to land the right job.”  Uzbek schools are growing, though.  Jones cited three major reasons for the growth of Uzbek speaking schools.  “The first,” said Jones, “is an admittance of the nature of the republic.  There are, in fact, fewer Russians.”  This made little sense until he explained his next points.  “Second, there’s a strong desire to carve out a greater Uzbek identity.  Finally, Uzbeks have a passive aggressive hostility towards Russian supremacy.”

        These factors as well as Uzbekistan’s assistance of the United States in its War on Terror and invasion of Afghanistan truly set them apart from their neighbors in terms of nationalism and general drive from the former Soviet Union.  Uzbekistan’s disgust with the Russians and their efforts to switch to English as a second language (as opposed to Russian) show the nature and direction of their growth in the global picture.
  
        The fact remains, however, that Uzbekistan has yet to move into the 21st century of the western world.  “Uzbekistan, under President Karimov, has a totalitarian democracy.  There’s no free press, opposition [to Karimov’s administration] is closely watched, an intense amount of corruption and human rights violations are atrocious!”  For example, Jones said, “take the prison population.  A free and fair trial is out, most of the decisions with regards to sentencing is made in [secret] military tribunals.”

        In conclusion, Uzbeks are willing to endure the maintenance of power and control they find under Karimov for the continuity of stability.  Uzbekistan doesn’t have the civil war in Tajikistan, which poured into their shared neighbor, Kyrgyzstan.  Karimov himself is against the Russian aggression and is in favor of a stronger more independent nation.  The language itself is a big deal for the Uzbeks.  Jones said Uzbek “is the language of their soul; it’s refreshing and invigorating; it flourishes through their customs and rituals.”  Nonetheless, Uzbeks speak Russian.  Until they can speak with greater comfort in Uzbek, their Russian tongues will stunt their push for nationalism.

        To Uzbekistan’s east lies Central Asia’s smallest Turkic nation: Kyrgyzstan.  What little information gathered about Kyrgyzstan was found in Andrew Segars, a program director of the American Councils for International Education.  Kyrgyzstan has two official languages: Kyrgyz and Russian.  Because the nation is as weak as it is, it needs the Russians who as in the other Central Asian nations are typically the best skilled and leaders of the urban structure.  This is why Kyrgyzstan named Russian an official language.  “It’s [also] important to note,” said Segars “that Russian instruction is favored in Kyrgyzstan.”  Because it needs foreign aide as drastically as it does, Kyrgyzstan needs Russian to communicate with its stronger neighbors and its former caretaker, Russia.

        Between Russia and Kyrgyzstan lies Kazakhstan, Central Asia’s largest nation.  It also has the largest percentage of Russians in its population.  Nearly half of Kazakhstan’s populace is made up of ethnic Russians.  The Russians, of course, settled in Kazakhstan as the Soviet Union spread its wings into a greater part of Asia and their legacy is not without notice.  Kazakhstan, perhaps more than any other country of the former Soviet Union, is abundantly Russian.
    
        Andrew Segars was of greater knowledge in his understanding of Kazakhstan with regards to language and nationalism.  As a post-graduate student in Kazakhstan, Segars does not bring the perspective found by Thomas Mark or Joseph Jones.  However, his time in Central Asia as well as his position with American Councils for International Education, give him a keen voice on the subject.
    
        As Kazakhstan is well populated by Russians, one can only come to the conclusion that the language is of as great importance as it ever was.  Truer words have never been spoken.  However, Kazakh President Nazarbaev’s administration has made an effort to see the Kazakh language find a voice once again.  Of particular interest is a television program aimed at encouraging Kazakh.  “There like infomercials” Segars said, “each episode or commercial teaches something simple about the language such as common greetings or things to say in everyday situations.”
    
        An interview with ethnic Kazakh Gulnur Bolyspayeva who is at George Mason University working towards a Masters Degree in Conflict Analysis and Resolution gave better light to the topic of the infomercial television program.  According to Bolyspayeva the infomercial is a Kazakh State program aired by Khabur Television aimed, as Segars said, at increasing understanding of the Kazakh language.  What’s interesting is that Bolyspayeva finds the program helpful in her own understanding of the language.
    
        An ethnic Kazakh, Bolyspayeva’s first language is Russian.  Like many parents in Central Asia who wanted to see their children find greater opportunity, Bolyspayeva’s parents placed her in a Russian school so that she may have the advantages and opportunities found in not only Kazakhstan’s cities, but also others across the region and perhaps Moscow.
    
        It’s fascinating, though, that Bolyspayeva knows so little Kazakh, what with being an ethnic Kazakh.  Bolyspayeva, however, feels that Kazakh is important to the nation’s identity and nationalism, but did not begin to learn the language until her last position (a teacher of music in a Kazakh school) required that she know the language conversationally.  (Bolyspayeva is not literate in her language and has only a conversational understanding.)  
    
        What remains to be the biggest problem, however, is the structure of education.  According to Bolyspayeva, the largest reason students are abandoning the Kazakh program and falling back into the Russian program is the structure of teaching.  “Studying Kazakh is not as [valuable] as studying Russian,” said Bolyspayeva.  “A [beginning] course of the Kazakh language [would] lose too many students after first few sessions because of the manner of teaching.”
    
        Nonetheless, Bolyspayeva agrees that the language is crucial to the nation and its culture.  While she admits that even her English is better than her Kazakh, she’s confident that the next generation will carry Kazakh into greater importance in urban and government life.  It’s important that the educational structure be revamped and supported to come to that point.

        While each nation and respective language suffers its own demons, the impact made by the Soviet Union and the Russian majority is certain.  Turkmen is troubled by a certifiable dictator whose support for education is shown in his insistence in cutting the curriculum by a full year.  Yet another dictator and the subservient nature of its ethnic Uzbek populace torment Uzbek.  Kyrgyz is nearly non-existent as Kyrgyzstan is overwhelmed by a need for Russia, Russians and the foreign aid they can bring.  Kazakh is shadowed by a largely Russian population and is perhaps the nation most likely to be plagued by Russia’s domination.

        What these nations do share, beside borders and similar climates is the fateful had of a greedy Soviet Union.  It’s as if, for seventy years, the languages and cultures of distinct peoples were put on hold to allow for manipulation and domination by the ruling Russian hand.  That these nations will shed their Soviet skins and fully embrace the language that shapes their communication and culture is not simply optimistic but necessary.  What will become of Central Asia in the next century has yet to be seen; what’s certain, though, is that independence and freedom from a strong Soviet hand are indispensable.