“Laughter is dangerous”: Tajikistan’s recent literary purge

In March 2023, Tajik businessman Abdukhalil Kholiqzoda published a memoir titled Events of My Life. The subsequent controversy surrounding the text culminated in the imprisonment of the writer, his editor, and his publisher in February 2024. Kholiqzoda’s case is not merely an instance of censorship, but equally the result of tense political infighting within Tajikistan.

His prosecution is startling even by Tajikistan’s standards, where the repression of free expression is par for the course. In a republic beset by the routine silencing and abuse of government critics, the Events of My Life affair is nonetheless striking for its bizarre and convoluted nature.

The unassuming Kholiqzoda, a respected businessman and medical expert, is an unlikely figure to be at the centre of such a furore. The founder of the renowned Ibn Sino medical clinic in Dushanbe, Tajikistan’s capital, Kholiqzoda spent much of his career dedicated to the improvement of public health and the development of the healthcare sector in Tajikistan, a topic which he discusses in depth in his memoir. He published his first book, a literary memoir similar to Events, in 2018. 

August 2023 marked a dramatic reversal of fortune. On 7 August, Kholiqzoda was detained. That same month, the editor of Events of My Life, Abdukodir Rustam, a well-known writer and translator himself, as well as Suhrob Rajabzoda, director of the book’s publisher R-Graf, were detained. Media reports at the time stated that they were unable to contact the publishing house. Authorities reportedly seized copies of Events from bookstores around the country. Kholiqzoda, Rustam, and Rajabzoda were charged with “incitement of social, racial, national, regional, religious (confessional) enmity or discord.”

The egregious persecution of literary figures over creative expression stands at odds with Tajikistan’s post-Soviet state ideology, which has consistently emphasised the country’s literary cultural heritage, with special emphasis on the Persian-language poetic tradition. Famously, Dushanbe’s prominent statue of Lenin was torn down and replaced with one of the tenth century poet Rudaki. Events of My Life is inflected with this legacy, with Kholiqzoda prolifically quoting and referencing classical poets such as Ferdowsi and Sa’adi. One of Abdukodir Rustam’s previous publications was a highly successful collection of Rudaki’s poetry. 

Challenging Tajikistan’s post-Soviet narrative  

Events consists primarily of Kholiqzoda’s recollections of his life, with much detail given to his experiences of conducting business. Born in 1966, in Tajikistan’s northwestern Sughd region, Kholiqzoda belongs to the country’s older generation that witnessed the Brezhnev-era Soviet years as well as the chaos of independence and the Tajikistani Civil War, a so-called “lost generation.” This sweeping historical perspective informs the content of Events of My Life. The text is unforgiving in its portrayal of conditions that included rampant corruption in post-independence Tajikistan.

As onlookers have suggested, Kholiqzoda’s text may be particularly sensitive as it diverges from official narratives of recent post-Soviet history. Kholiqzoda is frank in his descriptions of post-independence Tajikistan, characterising the 1990s as “cold and dark.” He also points out the decline in the country’s living standards following the dissolution of the Soviet Union.

Elsewhere, southern regions of Tajikistan — from which hail autocratic Tajik president Emomali Rahmon and other contemporary political elites — are portrayed in a way some have interpreted as unfavourable. These sections generated considerable online controversy and became the basis for the charges of “inciting hatred.”

The Tajik newspaper Jumhuriyat published a highly critical review of Events at the end of August 2023, taking issue with numerous details presented in Kholiqzoda’s accounts, including his “exaggerated” and bleak characterisation of Dushanbe. A prominent politician viciously denounced the writer as a traitor and “internal enemy.”  

The trial began this year on 19 January, with the proceedings closed to the media. During the hearings, there were reports that Kholiqzoda also faced accusations of fraud related to his activities with the Ibn Sino clinic. In February, Kholiqzoda was initially sentenced to six and a half years in prison for “hatred,” Rustam was sentenced to four and a half years, and Rajabzoda sentenced to one year, according to Radio Ozodi (according to another source, however, Rajabzoda was released upon payment of a fine).

Kholiqzoda’s sentence was increased to nine years in March, and with the sentencing came a large fine equivalent to more than six thousand euros. Even for the charge in question, this was an unusually severe sentencing. The men are currently incarcerated within Tajikistan’s notoriously disease-ridden and inhumane prison system.

Par for the course, or an escalation? 

The imprisonment of Kholiqzoda and his associates reflects the Tajik state’s deepening authoritarianism and Emomali Rahmon’s pervading cult of personality. 

Central Asia expert and human rights lawyer Steve Swerdlow points out that Kholiqzoda’s controversial depiction of the president’s home region was intended to be favourable. 

“Hate speech was the opposite of what he was trying to do,” Swerdlow told Lossi 36. “A book that is largely about praising the president [became] fodder for charges like these that are totally trumped up and fabricated.” 

Human rights groups such as Freedom House have raised the alarm about a marked crackdown on civil society since 2022. Rahmon, who has been in power since 1992, is expected to step down shortly in favour of his son, Rustam Emomali. The upcoming transition has instigated an uptick in state repression, both against any potential challengers as well as towards local media.

On its face, Kholiqzoda’s case appears to be clear-cut draconian literary censorship. But the truth is more complex, and the case is likely a manifestation of Tajikistan’s highly corrupt political climate. The intrigue surrounding the text indicates the possibility of various motives by the authorities in their prosecution.

One explanation concerns Rahmon’s son-in-law, Shamsullo Sohibov, who opened his own publishing house, Modern Publishing, in 2020, which was a competitor to R-Graf. Radio Ozodi has shown that Sohibov had a history of engaging in highly corrupt business practices in running Modern Publishing, and his status as a rival could plausibly explain (in part) the targeting of those involved with Events of My Life.

Another explanation pertains to Kholiqzoda’s political connections and allegations of his involvement in a conspiracy against the president. Anonymous sources told Radio Ozodi in September 2023 that such accusations were not without credibility. The case can be placed in a context of elite infighting in Tajikistan. Over the course of 2024, Emomali Rahmon purged various political figures who were accused of plotting a coup against him.

Passages in Events of My Life where Kholiqzoda describes his ties to powerful political figures, including the Head of the State Committee for National Security, Saimumin Yatimov, attracted particular scrutiny. Yatimov is a highly influential figure who has previously clashed with the Rahmon family, including during a recent incident in which he was reportedly shot by Rahmon’s son. Galiya Ibragimova writes that many believe Yatimov will be among Rahmon’s next targets in the political purge.

Exiled Tajik journalist and human rights activist Muhamadjon Kabirov told Lossi 36 that the imprisonment of Kholiqzoda and Rustam “reflects the regime’s effort to maintain a tight grip on historical narratives and public discourse.”

“Kholiqzoda’s recounting of an event involving current Interior Minister Ramazon Rahimzoda, which displeased the regime, suggests that the arrest was more about controlling the political narrative than simply suppressing free expression,” says Kabirov.

With these factors taken into account, the Events of My Life affair remains, at least in part, a case of literary censorship. Whereas Rahmon’s severe repression of journalists, bloggers, and activists is well-documented, there are comparatively few high-profile cases of outright literary censorship in the country’s recent history.  

Government repression of the opposition often comes under the guise of “religious extremism” charges, an anti-terrorism policy. As a stark example, the government shut down all Islamic bookstores in Dushanbe in August and September 2022. 

Previously, in 2017, the Tajik Ministry of Culture announced that it would require special permission for books brought in and out of the country. The Ministry explained this as preventing the theft of its cultural heritage. It claimed this would not affect literary works, but international reports on the ruling have expressed alarm at the action.

The 2020 arrest of journalist Daler Sharifov is perhaps the closest recent high-profile precedent to Kholiqzoda’s. Sharifov too was charged with “incitement of hatred,” among other charges, for his articles and his published dissertation, which included quotes from the Muslim Brotherhood, an organisation banned in Tajikistan.

Yet Kholiqzoda’s case still stands out as the censorship did not pertain to a religious or explicitly political text.

“These cases are really important, as they illuminate it’s not just opposition party figures or human rights organisations [who face repression], it’s anyone who has the slightest criticism or describes reality,” Swerdlow says. Kholiqzoda “doesn’t fit the typical category of imprisoned human rights defender or journalist.”

“But this is certainly a case where he’s being targeted for saying things Rahmon and his close circle found threatening or unflattering.”

Past parallels 

A closer parallel to Kholiqzoda’s case can be found in the country’s Soviet past. One of the most glaring cases of literary censorship in Soviet Tajikistan concerns novelist Juma Odina.

Born in 1930 to kulak parents, Odina suffered greatly in his childhood as Stalinist policies saw his family exiled and driven into poverty. In 1979, he published the novel Running Time. The work drew upon Odina’s personal experiences to deliver a sharp social and political critique of Soviet Tajikistan.

Running Time received great acclaim from readers, and is still highly regarded by Tajik literary scholars, but upon its publication sparked an immediate and vicious furore from Tajik authorities. Tajik Communist Party leaders and elites, who were scathingly depicted in the work, decried the book as “harmful” and “discrediting our reality.” The book was officially condemned on a “historical” basis and copies of it were reportedly confiscated from bookstores soon after its publication. Ultimately, about 14,000 copies of Running Time were burned. A small, unknown number of remaining copies survived.

Odina died of a heart attack three years later at the age of 52. Running Time was finally republished in Tajikistan and saw wider circulation after the Soviet collapse. Still, no genuine political reckoning over his case has occurred. By contrast, Uzbekistan’s Abdulla Qodiry, who was killed in Stalin’s purges, was officially acquitted by the Uzbek Supreme Court in 2023, a century after his persecution.

Odina’s case is a tragic example of the scope and degree of state censorship that was prevalent in pre-independence Tajikistan. Kholiqzoda’s case, with its distinct similarities to Odina’s, is a reminder that this legacy is far from over.

In August 2024, Tajikistan’s Minister of Justice assured concerned reporters who inquired about Kholiqzoda and Rustam’s health that the men were “well.” There have been no further reports on their health, but it must be noted that torture and medical neglect remain common in Tajik prisons. Such circumstances present a gruesome inversion given the Ibn Sino clinic director’s former professional undertakings. 

The particulars of Kholiqzoda’s case are labyrinthine, but the Events of My Life affair stands out as a bizarre instance of the lengths authorities are prepared to go to in Tajikistan’s crackdown on critical voices.

“Metaphors are dangerous, poetry is dangerous, humour is dangerous, laughter is dangerous, jokes are dangerous,” says Swerdlow. “It gets at the heart of how Tajikistan has become a completely totalitarian state.”