Following the firing of the Rector of Tashkent’s ‘most corrupt university’ in August 2019, another university leader has been shown the door.
Rector Bahodyr Khodiev of Tashkent State University of Economics (TSUE) was suspended in November 2019 on the grounds of corruption. Details of Khodiev’s alleged activities have not been made public, but this very high profile removal comes as part of the Uzbekistan government’s drive for greater transparency during the university admissions process, which now carries ‘severe penalties’ for those who violate the process.
Khodiev had been at TSUE since May 2016, although this was not his first stint there as Rector. He had previously also been in charge prior to moving over to several senior government positions in 2010.
Khodiev has been replaced by Kongratbay Sharipov who has come over from the Ministry of Higher and Professional Education to take charge at TSUE. Sharipov left school at 15 to work as a mechanic, turning to teaching in the late 1980s and turning fully to academia as Uzbekistan became independent in the 1990s. In the 2000s he appears to have combined academic work with business operations – in 2009 alone he had positions as both the general manager of new projects at GM Uzbekistan and was briefly the rector of Turin Polytechnic University!
Watch this space to see who’s next to go in the anti-corruption drive in Uzbekistan.
Uzbek university leader makes fresh appeal for civil rights to be restored after fighting unjust dismissal for over a decade
Imagine you were unjustly accused of massive corruption and fired from your job. It’s an indignity. But then imagine that you’ve been fighting for well over a decade in no fewer than 14 courts to clear your name, each time with an unsatisfactory ending – or simply no real conclusion at all.
During that time, you haven’t been able to find work in your area of expertise, you’ve been prevented from joining professional associations, and your family have been affected.
This is the incredible situation that Professor Khidirnazar Allakulov, former Rector of Termez State University in Uzbekistan, has found himself in since being fired in 2004.
It also represents a blatant and prolonged abrogation of his human rights. The United Nations Human Rights Committee which reviewed his case in late 2017 held that:
Uzbekistan failed to implement domestic judgments upholding Professor Allakulov’s right to retraction. This failure deprived him of the possibility to rehabilitate his reputation, honour and dignity, violating his rights under article 17 of the international Covenant on Civil and Political Rights
This is from UN Human Rights on Facebook – not a source I would normally use, but it’s a very clear and compellling summary of the full UN Human Rights Committee findings available in five languages including Russian and English.
The story begins in 2002 when Allakulov was appointed as Rector of Termez State University. Within three years he was fired on the basis of allegations made in a national newspaper branding him a criminal and accusing him of defraduing the university [ru].
Professor Allakulov claims that during his short tenure as Rector, he actually rooted out some of the corrupt activity at his institution. He provided evidence to local authorities on nearly 1,000 students who had somehow managed to enrol at Termez State despite not having achieved the required entrance exam grade (some had not even taken the exam at all). Furthermore, he says he made the admissions requirements fairer and ensured that entry to the university was strictly on the basis of the entrance exam results. He also managed to return $600,000 of university money that had been ciphoned off or stolen by officials at the institution.
And these actions, he suspects, are what led to his rapid downfall.
Although he was acquitted in every single one of the 14 court cases held at district, regional and national levels, Allakulov has been unable to satisfactorily clear his name. His aim remains to have his honour, dignity, and professional reptuation restored, according to an article published this week in Sputnik Uzbekistan [ru].
Allakulov states in the Sputnik article that he has written to the President and state officials 12 times since 2006, but is uncertain that his appeals have reached the head of state.
He is counting on a recent fresh appeal to President Mirziyoyev, who took over from long-time post-Soviet leader Islam Karimov in December 2016, and hopes that it will fall on more sympathetic ears.
This does seem to be a time of renewed optimism for Uzbekistan, and I reported last week on the prospects for higher education following the state visit of the Uzbek President to the US, the first since 2002. Earlier this week, human rights supporters celebrated the visit of the first delegation of Amnesty International into Uzbekistan since 2004.
In this case, I truly hope that Mirziyoyev lives up to the nascent reputation he is building for greater openness and tolerance in Uzbekistan and agrees to the long overdue restoration of Professor Allakulov’s civil and political rights.
Ever wondered how university leaders get chosen?
And specifically, how this process works in Kazakhstan?
I thought so.
A recent article on Kazakh website BNews offers a great ‘Who’s Who’ at the top echelons of Kazakhstan’s higher education system in its report on the competition for the top spot at three of the country’s public universities [ru].
Who’s who in Kazakh higher education?
The report lists the names, qualifications and current positions of no fewer than 42 would-be university leaders (called Rectors in Kazakhstan), all competing for one of the three posts available.
The data was released by the Ministry of Education, which will now pass the candidates’ proposed development programmes to the university in question for a committee to review.
Those who are recommended by the committees will be interviewed by a state-wide committee, made up of representatives of the Kazakhstan Association of Higher Education Institutions, higher education trade unions, elected members of the two houses of parliament, ‘eminent academics’, representatives of the business community and ‘other social actors’. A vote taken by the committee will determine the eventual nominee.
Whilst introduced relatively recently, this selection process has already been used to appoint 16 other Rectors at public universities.
The fact that this process is publicly shared (and the article on BNEws has been ‘liked’ a whopping 22,0000 times on Facebook) and the names of the candidates made available to anyone who might be interested is very impressive. It suggests that notions of democracy are embedding into the Kazakh higher education system and in government more generally, which still faces significant challenges arising from the Soviet legacy and persistent corruption even at the highest levels.
Modelling selection processes
This is not the first process that Kazakhstan has used to select public university leaders. I’ve identified three models that have been in operation at varying points over the last 30 years:
- Soviet period: State
- Early years of independence: Academic community
- Current period: State-society
As a highly bureaucratized and centralized system, it is unsurprising that the Soviet model can be defined by the dominance of the state. During the Soviet Union, university leaders were civil servants, appointed and removed by Moscow. This system has persisted in some post-Soviet systems such as Tajikistan.
On becoming an independent state in 1991, higher education in Kazakhstan experienced a great deal of immediate change. One such reform was to allow the academic community to elect university leaders. Whilst this second model was short-lived, it has left an important footprint in how the Kazakh academic community positions itself and is positioned by the state and society.
This brings us to the current model as outlined above. I’d conceptualize this as a ‘state-society’ model, something of a hybrid between the Soviet period and that of the academic-led era of the early 1990s. The state has staked out its interest in the selection process (after all, these are public universities that are funded primarily by the state) but is making efforts to open this process out to other actors with a vested interest in higher education.
What do you think?
I’d love to hear from people based at universities in Kazakhstan to learn more about how the leadership selection process is perceived, and how democratic you think it really is.
And what about the three models I’ve proposed? Do these make sense? What have I missed?
Finally – what about the voice of students, many of whom now make a financial contribution to their higher education? To what extent are they represented in the three models?
At the start of this year, I shared a great article on the nascent University of Central Asia from Devex and Michael Igoe. If you enjoyed that, you’ll be pleased to hear that the article in fact came in three parts.
In part two, A classroom for the mountains, Igoe discusses the intensity and rigour with which the undergraduate curriculum has been developed, the difficulty of recruiting suitably qualified staff to come and work in rural mountainous Kyrgyzstan on the site of the first campus and the fundamental importance of that mountain location to the Aga Khan’s vision for the university.
Part three, The future leaders of Central Asia, focuses on the university’s hopes for its future graduates, including a nice feature with an undergraduate from Khorog, Tajikistan, who matter of factly comments on the hostility her family has faced from the government for expressing political view. The piece also emphasizes the way the university is gearing its programmes towards the needs (current and prospective) of the regional economy.
Something that struck me in all three articles was the absence of discussion of the political environment in which the university operates. This may be a reflection of the pragmatic mission of the Aga Khan and his network of charities that aim to work with local communities from the inside, rather than tie short-term funding to political or economic conditions. This is a laudable aim, although for the University of Central Asia, it seems as if the encouragement for students to be change-makers beyond the economic arena will be implicit at best.
In a setting like Kyrgyzstan where the government is more open, this strategy may be effective. It may be possible for students to envisage and even implement alternative ways of seeing and experiencing their home and other contexts. Yet for the Tajikistan context, the government maintains close control over the political establishment, making it hard (it not impossible) for alternative voices to be heard, let alone permitted in government.
The Tajik campus of the University of Central Asia is opening in Khorog, a town in the south-east of the country that the government has for a number of reasons found harder (though not impossible) to control. People from Khorog and the surrounding region of Badakhshan are spiritual followers of the Aga Khan and since he first visited the country in 1995, they have keenly followed his command to focus on education, particularly in English language and information technology. School leavers from Badakhshan are thus likely to be in a position to make extremely competitive applications to the university, increasing local leadership capacity in a part of the country that has on occasion been restive.
I think this raises important questions about just how holistically – ‘leadership’ is taught – and interpreted – at the University of Central Asia.