What follows is one part of a cross-blog initiative that commemorates the 1991 Moscow coup and evaluates the years in between.

As was the case for his Central Asian neighbours, the General Secretary of the Republic of the Turkmen SSR, Saparmurat Niyazov, was put in an awkward position by the unfolding of the coup plot organised against Gorbachev in October 1991. It was no secret that he was unenthusiastic about the reforms of glasnost and perestroika, a signal distrust of modernisation and democratisation that he has steadfastly maintained to this day. His first election to the presidency, which took place two months before the coup, set an early standard for the level of political accountability and transparency that would henceforth prevail. Standing unopposed he won resoundingly with no less than 99 percent of the vote, a share that even Stalin would have envied. The question of what has truly changed in Turkmenistan over the last 15 years, other than some cosmetic features of its reclaimed national identity, is therefore a vexed one.

Like in so many other CIS states, the language adopted to recall the collapse of the Soviet Union cannot make appeals to collective gratitude over liberation from oppression as is the case in the Baltic States, because political repression has deepened if anything. Similarly, it would be futile to mine the theme of stifled development at the hands of exploitative Russian overlords as this is probably not a viewpoint too many people in the country would recognise as their own. Instead, two recurring motifs that crop up over and over again, excluding the obvious and omnipresent personality cult that has been subject of extensive laughing commentary, are stability and neutrality.

Stability is also complemented by the buzzword of sustainability, which is another way of saying that Turkmenistan will not buckle under the pressure of Western calls for pursuing a liberal agenda for political and economic reform. This is succinctly expressed in a recent formulation appearing in an article on the Turkmen State Information Agency website summing up the legacy of independence:

“The phenomenon of the Turkmen development model is in that the interests of the people whose wellbeing and happiness the efforts in economic, cultural and political spheres are aimed at underlie the strategy and tactics of national development.”

The founding strategy of Turkmen economic policy was enshrined in the vaunted “Ten Years of Stability”, a variation on a similar concept propounded by Uzbek policymakers; and sure enough this period of increased self-reliance did indeed see some notable successes. Consequently, all apparent economic successes achieved by the country, which are in large measure attributable to Turkmenistan’s enormous mineral deposits, are brandished as a vindication of this unwavering line. Yet, the evidence of ample anecdotal accounts points to the intense pauperisation of large swathes of the country that put lie to such grand boasts. One grim item that appeared recently on the Turkmenskaya Iskra opposition site reported that while real estate prices in Ashgabat have been rocketing sky-high in the past two years, prostitutes have become cheaper. Such news suggests an emergent stratification in Turkmen society that seriously threatens any pretence to stability and aspirations to an equitable society. Official sources invariably protest that such speculation is merely the product of malign foreign designs, but in the absence of independent observers in the country there are few grounds for swallowing Turkmen propaganda whole.

It hardly needs observing that democracy does not feature particularly prominently in the panorama of sustainable stability Turkmen-style. This year, however, local elections were held in the country, although it is questionable how such a faintly uncompetitive exercise could serve to instil a genuine feeling of civic empowerment. If anything, the process, which has been severely underreported it should be added, owes more to Soviet regional elections than to anything that one might recognise in an established liberal democracy.

Neutrality is another Turkmen post-Soviet theme that is voluminously and extensively trumpeted every time the anniversary of its declaration comes around. The status, which dates back to 1995, is a proudly affirmed badge of national distinctiveness, although it is hard to see what real permutation it has actually had. Wanting to be cynical, one might observe that neutrality is just the flip-side of the virtual hermit status that has resulted from Turkmenistan’s distinctly idiosyncratic foreign policy. However, ceaseless wrangling and double-dealing (by all parties concerned) in gas deals over the last few years has shown Turkmenistan to be no more aloof and virtuous than any other countries in the region when it comes to power politics and intrigue. The latest chapter of a complex saga has seen Ashgabat giving added impetus to its drift away from the Russian sphere of influence towards greater engagement with China.

This is not to argue that August 1991 was a blip on the radar as far as Turkmenistan was concerned. The country would obviously look vastly different had the events of that month turned out differently. Yet, for those that recall the hopes and dreams that the changes of that season appeared to augur, there must surely be only a residual feeling of betrayal and disappointment.