This essay is part of a series by American diplomats sharing their impressions of the dramatic early years of Central Asia's independence from the Soviet Union. These memoirs were written at the invitation of the Davis Center for Russian and Eurasian Studies at Harvard University. We publish these with special thanks to Nargis Kassenova, director of Davis's Program on Central Asia.
 

At the end of January 1992, I returned from nuclear arms talks in Moscow and received word that President George H.W. Bush had approved my going to Kazakhstan as ambassador. I would arrive eight days later, in time for the first US Operation Provide Hope flight of medicines and food. The former USSR was bankrupt; hospitals lacked even basic medicines. Airlifts were not enough but helped.

Being sent to Kazakhstan came as a surprise. In some ways I was unprepared. I knew little of Central Asia and Kazakhstan. Fortunately, my colleagues and I immersed ourselves in Martha Olcott’s work, The Kazakhs. It offers deep insights into Kazakh life. I had just finished four years of nuclear arms negotiations, mostly in Geneva. I had never traveled to Kazakhstan but knew about its nuclear legacy, which Togzhan Kassenova describes so well in her book, Atomic Steppe: How Kazakhstan Gave Up the Bomb.

In some respects, my assignment to Kazakhstan had a certain logic. In the mid-1970s while posted at the U.S. embassy in Brazil, I covered metals, energy, and other resource-related issues in a huge and welcoming country. In the early 1980s – during the Brezhnev “era of stagnation” – I served at the embassy in Moscow, dealing with nuclear arms issues. During that period, these matters were a major source of tension between Moscow and the West, along with Soviet threats to Poland and Afghanistan.

In Moscow, I experienced some of the dark side of communist rule. I was among several Americans to whom the KGB applied a secret chemical tracking agent, evidently to monitor our activities and those with whom we came in physical contact, such as by shaking hands. A few years later, the US revealed that the KGB had used a mutagenic agent; the media called it Spy Dust. About the same time the US disclosed that the KGB had bugged some of the Embassy’s IBM typewriters. One was my secretary’s. The typewriters were inadvertently shipped via unclassified pouch, intercepted by the KGB, and rigged with sophisticated bugs. In a third case, I happened to be the Embassy duty officer when the KGB seized U.S. diplomat Richard Osborne, claiming he was a spy. In the wee hours, I had to drive to KBG headquarters at Lubyanka to fetch him.

The United States got an early start in Kazakhstan thanks to Secretary of State James Baker. He visited in September 1991 and again in December. Baker developed rapport with President Nursultan Nazarbayev, perhaps the most skillful of the early post-Soviet leaders. Baker’s personal diplomacy paid dividends in fast-paced talks in which Kazakhstan pledged to give up its leftover Soviet strategic (long-range) nuclear arms, and in pursuit of an export pipeline for Chevron’s huge investment to develop the Tengiz “super-giant” oil field. Tengiz went on to become the largest, and perhaps most successful, foreign investment project anywhere in the former Soviet Union.

On December 25, 1991, the US was the first country to recognize Kazakhstan’s independence. Daria Fane, a diplomat at Embassy Moscow who knew Central Asia and spoke Uzbek, visited Almaty and assisted Kazakhstani authorities in preparing to open an American embassy. Shortly thereafter an Advance Team arrived, led by Chargé d’affaires Jackson McDonald. In early February, the Team raised the US flag at the first new US Embassy in the former Soviet Union.

Kazakhstan and the US wanted to send visible signals that America backed the new country’s sovereignty, independence, and territorial integrity. I emphasized this in press interviews. The authorities allowed me to have a high media profile in part to underscore this theme.

Our Embassy was quickly thrown into Almaty life, at times in unexpected ways. On my second night, our crew was invited to sit in the first row of a large pop music concert. The stunning, mini-skirted Uzbek singer, Aziza, electrified the audience. I mused that Lenin might have liked Kazakh-Uzbek “internationalism,” but some of his comrades would have scowled at the enthusiastic, slightly raucous audience of young people, most in jeans or other Western-style dress. 

The Embassy began operation with a half-dozen US employees, all temporarily assigned except for Jackson and me. Our contingent included Ambassador (retired) Michael Wygant as political and economic officer, the late Ross Chomiak as USIA public affairs officer, the late Tony Bilecky as administrative officer, Richard H. Riley as management officer, and the late Freddie Woodruff as political officer. Later, he was tragically slain in Georgia.

Richard advertised in Kazakhstanskaya Pravda for local employees. They would perform vital unclassified tasks. The First Deputy Foreign Minister, a KGB veteran, called me in and sneered that our public search would attract only riffraff. The Embassy should ask the Ministry for employees. I said we had superb applicants. All but one of the white-collar employees we hired were women; most had majored in English in university. Men did the blue-collar work. 

The first permanent US staff were true pioneers. McDonald came from Embassy Moscow where he had been deeply involved in US-Soviet Gulf War diplomacy. In Almaty, he led our interaction with the Foreign Ministry. Management officer Michael Rafferty organized Embassy operations and led the search for a permanent facility. Political officer Jim Bigus and economic officer Craig Karp reported on developments in Kazakhstan, about which little was known back in Washington. They, along with consular officer Susan Thornton, shepherded waves of official visitors. Many of them likened Kazakhstan to the Wild West in the United States.

Other early arrivals were USAID mission director for Central Asia Craig Buck and USAID health officer Paula Feeney; USIA public affairs officer Renee Earle and her deputy Tania Chomiak; politico-military officer Andy Weber; and Foreign Commercial Service senior commercial officer Susan Weidner.

Our Embassy began its work in the Hotel Kazakhstan. At 26 stories, it was the tallest building in Central Asia at the time. The hotel staff seemed thrilled to host us. Located near a fault line, the hotel was built to bend, not break. We never felt a quake. I was lodged in a VIP suite under the penthouse restaurant and across from the Iranian Ambassador. Both of our governments discouraged contact, but I tested him by smiling occasionally on the elevator. He did not succumb.

A small hotel suite held our classified files and satellite communication system (TACSAT), with its antenna on the balcony facing south. For security, we manned the suite 24x7. A large table in my suite was our unclassified office. In the Soviet era, the KGB would have bugged VIP suites. For sensitive discussions, we sometimes tuned radios to different stations, making conversations more difficult to unscramble.

When my children (Will, age 4, and Alison, age 1) came in summer 1992, they slept in the dining room of my suite. They had a wonderful Kazakh nanny. She walked Will, and Alison when she came of age, to a charming Kazakh-language kindergarten a few blocks behind the hotel. Once when I was up-country, a Russian TV journalist came to the kindergarten and interviewed Will speaking Kazakh. This was broadcast across the former Soviet Union. I received unearned praise, especially in rural areas, because my son spoke Kazakh. On weekends, Will and Alison loved going to the Gorky amusement park with its giant Ferris wheel. 

Kazakhstan and our Embassy gained early attention. The Wall Street Journal’s Gerald Seib visited and followed us around for a couple of days. His front-page article on April 17, 1992, was titled, “Kazakhstan Is Best for Diplomats Who Find Paris a Bore.”

Numerous members of Congress trekked to Kazakhstan. Among the first were senators Richard Lugar and Sam Nunn, who conceived the visionary Nunn-Lugar program. It funded efforts across the former USSR to eliminate leftover Soviet weapons of mass destruction infrastructure and waste. 

A few months after the Embassy opened, Kazakh authorities offered us a “little blue house,” a picture of which soon appeared in the Chicago Tribune. We moved unclassified and public facing operations into this charming Tsarist-era house. My office doubled as a venue for concerts by young performing artists. 

Later, we leased a larger, equally charming building, also built in the Tsarist era. On a busy avenue downtown, the structure did not meet the U.S. security requirement for a 100-foot setback from the street (to protect against a truck bomb). But suitable and available buildings were few, and this one helped us send the right signal. 

A US priority was to encourage three new states with leftover Soviet strategic nuclear arms – Belarus, Kazakhstan, and Ukraine – to give them up. The U.S. worked with Russia to enable them to send their nuclear weapons to Russian facilities where they were manufactured. This would clear the way for the three countries to join the international Nuclear Nonproliferation Treaty (NPT) as nonnuclear weapon states. The US was determined that the dissolution of the USSR should not create three more nuclear-armed states.

Unlike in Ukraine, Kazakhstanis did not see a need for nuclear arms to deter potential Russian aggression. Nazarbayev’s nonproliferation leadership then, and over the next three decades, was exemplary. Kazakhstan gained substantial prestige and authority as a responsible state.

From February 1992 through mid-May, I was intensively engaged in nuclear diplomacy. I met several times with Nazarbayev for lengthy discussions, and more often with his able national security advisor, Tulegen Zhukeyev. In these talks, we delved into arms control and nuclear arms issues, including their safety and security. I received and sent telegrams personally marked for Secretary Baker, who at the time gave high priority to nuclear diplomacy.

In May 1992 inWashington, President Bush hosted the leaders of Belarus, Kazakhstan, and Ukraine. They agreed to eliminate nuclear weapons and join the NPT as nonnuclear weapon states. In 1995, Kazakhstan was the first of the three to become nuclear-free.

In 1994, with Andy Weber’s leadership, the U.S. and Kazakhstan cooperated to dispose safely of 600 kilograms of highly enriched uranium. In a secret operation, Project Sapphire, the uranium was shipped to the US for blend down into fuel for civilian nuclear reactors.

In the early years, I had good access to Nazarbayev. Beyond nuclear issues, we discussed reforms, energy investment, overall conditions in Kazakhstan, Russian activities, and stalled talks on construction of the pipeline via southern Russia for Tengiz oil. In later years, he grew concerned that Embassy personnel were maintaining contacts with opposition leaders. 

In one of my discussions with Nazarbayev, I noted the heavy hand of Uzbekistan President Islam Karimov’s rule. Nazarbayev said, “yes, but when he gives an order, it is obeyed.” Nazarbayev was alluding to his need, especially in the early years, to build coalitions. He had to balance tribal, ethnic, regional, urban-versus-rural, and other interests. 

I often raised reform issues with Nazarbayev. His priority was economic growth, not democracy or the rule of law. Years later, accumulated economic reforms and energy development enabled The World Bank to elevate Kazakhstan to an upper middle income country.

For a new country, Kazakhstan was quick to seek a greater global role. In 1994, Nazarbayev organized the Conference on Interaction and Confidence Building Measures in Asia (CICA). It seeks to enhance cooperation for peace, security, and stability in Asia. Some in the West were skeptical because advancing human rights was not a goal, as it was in the OSCE. But CICA has endured and today has 28 members, a remarkable accomplishment.

During my time in Kazakhstan, Secretary of Defense William Perry visited twice. Like Baker earlier, Perry was keen to reduce nuclear risks in a country that had hosted over a thousand large SS-18 silo-based intercontinental ballistic missile warheads, the Semipalatinsk nuclear test site, the space and missile launch site at the Baikonur Cosmodrome (Tyuratam), and the expansive Sary Shagan air defense and anti-missile test range.

Arriving for his first visit, Perry said he felt as if he knew Kazakhstan. His first job as a mathematician had been to assess Sary Shagan range instrumentation. After a scary landing on the second trip, Perry quipped that wind gusts were so strong the pilot asked him to land the plane.

In October 1993, then-Secretary of State Warren Christopher came to Almaty. He and Nazarbayev did not click. In December 1993, during the visit of Vice President Al Gore, parliament approved Kazakhstan’s NPT entry. Nazarbayev savored the political theater and international headlines.

A highlight of Gore’s visit was a late-night “tea” with Nazarbayev and his family at their home in the woods outside Almaty. They charmed the Americans by singing delightful Kazakh songs. We were a bit embarrassed. The only American song all of us knew was the classic cowboy tune, Home on the Range. Gore led us in a vigorous rendition.

Nazarbayev made his second official visit to the US in February 1994, when he met with President Bill Clinton. Some weeks earlier, several of us from the Embassy met with deputy foreign ministers Vyacheslav Gizzatov and Bolat Nurgaliyev at the Hotel Dostyk. Over lunch, we developed the idea of and key concepts for a Charter on Democratic Partnership. Clinton and Nazarbayev signed it in Washington. (As Kazakhstan became independent, Gizzatov, Nurgaliev and Kassym-Jomart Tokayev left Soviet posts and came to Kazakhstan, becoming deputy foreign ministers. They were a key reason why Kazakhstan gained so much diplomatic stature so quickly). 

In the Charter, the US “warmly” supported Kazakhstan’s efforts to “create a society based on democracy, the rule of law, and respect for human rights and fundamental freedoms of all people.” Washington recognized the “security, independence, sovereignty, territorial integrity and democratic development” of Kazakhstan as “matters of the highest importance.” Some aspirations have been fulfilled, others not. At the time, the US saw democratic development as a reach, but a worthwhile goal. It has turned out to be a long reach.

Kazakhstanis were aware of claims by Alexander Solzhenitsyn and other Russian nationalists that parts of northern Kazakhstan were traditionally Russian and should be part of Russia. None of us in Almaty saw an immediate threat, mainly because in the 1990s Boris Yeltsin appeared uninterested and Russia’s military was weak. This threat may now be greater. Thus, it is even more important that Kazakhstani society and politics be resilient. Under President Tokayev, political life has begun gradually to open. Street protests in January 2022 made clear that more responsive governance was overdue. Allowing more vibrant political discourse and reducing income inequality could help Kazakhstan become even stronger and more stable.