Kazakh artists challenge government's anti-LGBT crackdown

When Kazakh choreographer Alisher Sultanbekuly went viral for a video of himself dancing inside a traditional Kazakh yurt (or tent), the backlash was almost immediate.

Wearing stiletto shoes, short shorts and figure-hugging kamzols (vests adorned with Kazakh ornaments), he danced alongside two women to a Kazakh song. Alisher said it was a birthday gift to himself and a creative way to connect with Kazakh history, and while many celebrated this, others accused it of tarnishing traditional Kazakh values.

The controversy escalated when government officials weighed in. Samat Musabayev, a member of parliament, labelled the video “an attack on the honour of our nation”. The Minister of Culture and Information, Aida Balayeva called it “provocative” and “harmful to the upbringing of the younger generation.”

By mid-July, the police department of Almaty opened a criminal case against Alisher, charging him with “incitement of social, national, tribal, racial, class, or religious hatred,” with the potential to throw him in prison for up to seven years.

This backlash reflects a broader sociopolitical climate in Kazakhstan, where there is a growing interest in ethnic Kazakh traditions and customs. This resurgence is linked to the larger decolonial disruptions unfolding in Central Asia, where scholars and activists are revisiting the region's historical and cultural narratives. The influx of Russian migrants following Russia's military mobilisation has stirred polarising discussions in Kazakhstan about Russia's imperial legacy, particularly its claims on Ukrainian land, which evoke memories of the Tsarist Empire and the Soviet Union.

Echoing the rhetoric of Russia and Hungary, there has been a rise in discussions about the dangers of feminism, 'gender ideology,' and 'LGBT propaganda' in Kazakhstan. In August, the Ministry of Culture and Information chose to 'partially support' a petition to ban LGBT propaganda, highlighting the intertwining of cultural, political, and ideological forces shaping the current climate. The rights of queer and trans people are increasingly being framed as Western constructs that conflict with traditional, non-Western Kazakh values. As a result, LGBTQ+ acceptance and inclusiveness are often positioned at odds with efforts to preserve and revive Kazakh cultural identity.

Queer activists in Kazakhstan have been vocal in challenging this narrative, pointing out the inherent queerphobia present in the Soviet regime and advocating for an inclusive approach to decolonization.

The Kazakhstani government’s response to Alisher’s performance highlights its effort to enforce a heroic, martyrological model of citizenship, one that pits traditional Kazakh values against perceived foreign or disruptive influences. In this context, anything that deviates from prescribed norms is cast as the enemy, outside the bounds of acceptable behaviour. Cultural practices are deemed traditional through state endorsement, such as inclusion in school curricula or public displays in spaces like museums, shopping malls, airports, and train stations.

This regulation of cultural expression coincides with another growing discourse in Kazakhstan: decolonisation. As the country grapples with its post-Soviet identity, the debate over what it means to decolonise often intersects with questions of tradition.

As the country grapples with its post-Soviet identity, the debate over what it means to decolonise often intersects with questions of tradition

Given that Kazakhstan acquired independence as a result of the collapse of the Soviet Union and the governing elites in the country inherited their power from the Soviet regime, decolonisation was not a prominent theme of the state-building process in the 1990s. Yet, after the invasion of Ukraine in 2022, ideas of decolonisation have become more widely discussed both in relation to the Soviet rule and the current influence of Russia on Central Asia.

Currently, the region is seeing a significant increase in the production of knowledge on decoloniality in the Central Asian context, including books, podcasts, art exhibits, and media coverage. This also produced a growing interest toward inclusion of customs and cultural aspects of Kazakh ethnic culture into everyday life, such as wearing elements of Kazakh clothing, opening restaurants and hotels that centre around Kazakh architecture and interior design.

It is no wonder that Alisher also felt a desire to reconnect with the history and customs of his ancestors, like so many others right now. What’s different this time though is his approach included queering of ethnic Kazakh spaces, something that has not been a part of the public decolonial efforts yet.

Many entities and ideologies claim to represent the people of Kazakhstan but the state often holds the most legitimate claim to this representation. It's crucial to remember that the state is deeply invested in controlling the ethno-political history of its people. The legitimacy of its power depends on maintaining a cultural hegemony of traditions, gender roles, and sexuality.

Rallying support for Alisher’s case and condemning the homophobic nature of the charges against him must be a focal point for all liberatory movements and discourses in Kazakhstan. The state has positioned itself as both the surveillance and punitive agent in this instance. This sets a dangerous precedent, paving the way for a cultural hegemony that systematically excludes queer people. Without condemnation, this could lead to widespread acceptance of such exclusionary practices by the public, resulting in increased surveillance and punishment of all who are considered ‘others,’ particularly the LGBTQ+ community in Kazakhstan.