Eagle, I don't want to form an alliance anymore.

Marchenko was a key figure in Sakharov's circle. A worker by origin and self-taught, he was first imprisoned in 1968 for protesting the Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia. He was imprisoned multiple times afterward, and in 1986 he was imprisoned for the sixth time, serving a 15-year sentence.

The political consequences of this death were enormous. After the Reykjavik Summit, Gorbachev clearly realized that the death of any internationally renowned political prisoner in a Soviet prison would destroy his public international credibility!

He had just shown the world a Soviet Union willing to reform and engage in dialogue in Iceland, and now a prominent dissident has died of hunger strike in his prison.

Marchenko was the last one he failed to intervene in time.

Slava was in the Information Commission office when he learned of Marchenko's death. He put down the documents in his hand and remained silent for a few seconds.

A person who starves himself to death for his beliefs, regardless of whether one agrees with his claims, deserves respect for his will.

He then immediately realized the chain reaction this would trigger.

On December 12, Yakovlev submitted a memorandum to the Politburo entitled "Reflections on the Policy on Intellectuals".

He advocated for Sakharov's release, easing restrictions on dissident intellectuals, and extending openness from the arts to the political sphere.

Yakovlev's core argument was that if the Soviet Union wanted to establish credibility for reform internationally and win the support of domestic intellectuals, it had to change its approach to dissidents and could no longer use the simple and brutal methods of imprisonment and exile employed during the Brezhnev era!

The memorandum sparked heated debate within the Politburo.

KGB Chairman Chebrikov objected, arguing for national security: a significant number of these dissidents had ties to Western intelligence agencies, and lifting restrictions on them would be tantamount to opening the door to Western infiltration within the Soviet Union.

Ligachev also opposed it. His reason was ideological discipline: if all dissidents were released overnight and allowed to operate openly, it would be tantamount to declaring to the whole society that the Soviet Union's treatment of them over the past few decades had been entirely wrong—which would fundamentally shake the authority of the Party.

Ryzhkov remained neutral—this ideological debate was not his battleground.

Gorbachev supports Yakovlev.

Slava knew that pressure from human rights organizations and Western media was mounting, demanding the release of all political prisoners and prisoners of conscience in the Soviet Union as a litmus test of whether the Soviet Union was truly reforming. Even before his release, Sakharov himself had expressed a stance through various channels: not just his release, but the release of all prisoners of conscience.

“It’s impossible to release them all,” Ligachev said clearly. “The circumstances of these people vary greatly. Some were imprisoned for making explosive statements, and these can be released; others are genuinely passing intelligence to Western intelligence agencies and organizing subversive activities. How can these be released? Releasing them all indiscriminately is like taking both wheat and weeds out of prison!”

“I agree with Yegor Kuzmich’s assessment,” Slava said. “Moreover, our reforms do not need Western definitions, and never have!”

As I said before in the Far East, the only ones who can judge our reforms are the vast working people. Intellectuals are certainly important, but they are only a part of the masses.

Gorbachev valued his reputation too much; he always tried to please everyone, which resulted in pleasing no one.

Do I not know what kind of people these intellectuals are? Hasn't Old Zhong next door already provided us with an example? The intensity of labor for educated youth sent to the countryside during the Cultural Revolution was not high. Wasn't the "scar literature" that resurfaced after Mao's death precisely a form of intellectual resistance?

Making concessions all the time won't work. Gorbachev is incapable of getting things done; he's too weak and unwilling to shed blood for reform.

Moderate reformers all know that Slava is absolutely determined to shed blood for reform. He is more principled and pragmatic than Gorbachev, and he is more suitable to be General Secretary.

Within days, moderate reformers offered a compromise: only some minor offenders would be released, and these intellectuals would be required to cease public political activity for three years—an effort to curb liberal propaganda.

As for why it's within three years, it's because the moderate reformers believe they can oust Gorbachev from the Politburo after three years, provided Gorbachev doesn't act first. How will Naslava deal with these people after he comes to power? Everyone knows.

Things unfolded exactly as Director Nian had predicted.

Although Slava's plan was approved by the Politburo, it clashed directly with Yakovlev's at the implementation level.

Yakovlev believes this plan betrays the spirit of openness. In his view, the demand for the release of intellectuals who guarantee a "three-year cessation of public political activity" is essentially a more covert way to continue suppressing freedom of speech.

You released him but then put a gag in his mouth. What kind of release is that?

The second secretary, Ligachev, who had already sided with Slava, had a big argument with him. Ligachev said:

"In a country undergoing dramatic transformation, absolute and unrestrained freedom of speech is a luxury, or even a dangerous commodity!"

When various societal contradictions—ethnic, economic, historical—are accumulating beneath the surface, rashly opening all floodgates of speech will not unleash rationality, but rather bestiality!

Yakovlev wanted to break all the shackles of the old system as quickly and thoroughly as possible, while Slava wanted to promote reform in an orderly and controllable manner, establishing a new order while breaking the old shackles.

The conflict intensified during several Politburo and Secretariat meetings in mid-December.

At one meeting, Yakovlev almost directly targeted the moderate reformers—he said:

"Our democratization process has repeatedly suffered setbacks, not because of obstruction from conservatives—conservatives are a thing of the past. Now, some people are using the guise of prudence, order, and control to put the brakes on reform!"

They verbally claim they don't oppose reform, but they insist on "reserving" everything, "phased" everything, and "setting conditions" for everything.

This kind of reserved reform is more harmful than open opposition because it dampens the spirit and drive for reform, causing us to continue drowning in the past!

Everyone present could tell who was being attacked by those words.

Gorbachev, of course, sided with Yakovlev, and he immediately took action—he wanted to increase the number of radical reformers in the core of power, using their numerical advantage to overwhelm the increasingly powerful moderate reformers.

The conflict between Yakovlev and the moderate reformers made Gorbachev realize one thing:

The moderate reformers are now powerful enough to rival his radical line in the Politburo.

Ligachev controlled ideology and cadres, Ryzhkov controlled the government, Slava controlled information technology and grassroots influence, Nyando was in the diplomatic system, and there were also their looming connections with military reformers and Chebrikov's KGB...

If this moderate reformist alliance continues to grow stronger, Gorbachev's path of reconstruction and democratization will be impossible to continue, and he must break this balance!

One way to break the balance is through personnel changes, placing more people who support radical reforms in the Politburo and the leadership of the constituent republics, thus diluting the influence of moderate reformers.

At the upcoming Central Committee plenary session in January 1987, he planned to push for Yakovlev to become a full member of the Politburo and to introduce a formal resolution on democratization—all of which required him to make arrangements in terms of personnel and public opinion in advance.

Part of the plan was to purge those old cadres he considered to be hindering reform—especially the representatives of old-time politics left over from the Brezhnev era in the various republics.

He turned his attention to Kazakhstan.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

As is well known, the Soviet Union was a multi-ethnic state composed of fifteen constituent republics.

More than one hundred ethnic groups, from the Slavs of Eastern Europe to the Turkic peoples of Central Asia to the various mountain peoples of the Caucasus, are united in a federation with Russia at its core and communist ideology as the binding force.

The official narrative is that all ethnic groups are a friendly family—under the banner of socialism, all ethnic groups are equal brothers, and ethnic conflicts have been declared to have been "fundamentally resolved in the process of socialist construction."

But reality is far more complex than this narrative suggests.

The Russian nation is, in effect, at the core and in a dominant position within this large family. Russian is the common language, Moscow is the absolute center of power, and major personnel appointments and policies in each constituent republic are subject to the will of the central government. In the eyes of many non-Russian ethnic groups, the so-called friendly family is, to some extent, a carefully crafted facade of Russian dominance.

Khrushchev's ethnic policies left behind numerous unhealed wounds—the forced relocation of Chechens, Crimean Tatars, Volga Germans... entire ethnic groups were driven from their homelands to Central Asia and Siberia.

There are also artificially drawn borders, merely for the purpose of divide and rule, deliberately dividing the settlements of one ethnic group into several republics, or cramming different ethnic groups into the same republic.

These wounds were temporarily concealed by the superficial stability and prosperity of the Brezhnev era, but they never truly healed; they were merely suppressed beneath the surface.

The openness that Gorbachev unleashed was doing something dangerous: it was bringing everything that had been hidden beneath the surface back to the surface. When a society is allowed to freely discuss history, express grievances, and pursue the truth, those national sentiments that have been suppressed for decades will also awaken.

Slava knew this; in the world before his transmigration, he had seen how this country had crumbled piece by piece along the ethnic fault lines: the Baltic states, the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict in the Caucasus, various unrest in Central Asia, the Azerbaijani massacres, and finally, the complete disintegration of the entire Union along the borders of its constituent republics.

But at this moment in December 1986, Gorbachev had not yet seen this danger. In his eyes, the problem of Kazakhstan was a problem of cadres, an old system that needed to be rejuvenated and corrupted, rather than a problem of ethnicity.

This blind spot in understanding is about to trigger the most serious domestic crisis in the Soviet Union since he came to power.

...

The First Secretary of Kazakhstan is Tinmohan Kunayev.

Kunayev ruled Kazakhstan for 22 years. He was a representative figure of the old guard politics during the Brezhnev era and had a very close personal relationship with Brezhnev. The two established their relationship during the land reclamation movement in Kazakhstan. From 1971, he was a full member of the Politburo of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, a rare privilege among the leaders of the Asian republics.

By 1986, Kunayev was 74 years old, and Brezhnev had persuaded him to stay on several occasions when he had offered to retire.

Just like in Uzbekistan, he had cultivated a vast power network in Kazakhstan for over two decades; his brother served as president of the Academy of Sciences for twenty years, and many of his compatriots entered key positions...

Typical Brezhnev-style ills: cronyism, local factions, gray economy, and accumulated corruption.

After Gorbachev came to power, the Central Asian republics became the focus of the anti-corruption campaign. From the latter half of 1985 to the end of 1986, the first secretaries of all four Central Asian republics—Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan, Tajikistan, and Kyrgyzstan—were replaced. Kunayev was the biggest target on this list—and also the most difficult to deal with, because he was a full member of the Politburo and directly linked to Brezhnev's legacy.

From the perspective of pure anti-corruption and the rejuvenation of cadres, replacing Kunayev makes sense—he is indeed old, and his system has indeed accumulated a lot of problems.

But then Gorbachev made a fatal mistake in "who to replace him with" and "how to replace him": his successor was not a Kazakh!

The central government was preparing to parachute in Gennady Korbin, the First Secretary of the Ulyanovsk Regional Committee, a Russian ethnic cadre.

Just like Shevardnadze, who was parachuted in as foreign minister, Corbin has never worked or lived in Kazakhstan for a single day. He doesn't speak Kazakh, he comes from the heart of Russia, and he is completely unfamiliar with the social and ethnic structures of Central Asia!

This is where Gorbachev's stupidity lies: he only wants to see that he has the power to take action, but he never considers the consequences or the practical factors.

Slava unusually raised an objection at the meeting, even though it wasn't his area of ​​expertise—cadre appointments were Ligachev and Gorbachev's responsibility—but he couldn't help but speak out:

"Comrade Gorbachev, I understand the need to replace Kunayev, but appointing a foreign cadre who has never been to Kazakhstan and cannot speak Kazakh as the First Secretary—that might cause problems."

Kazakhstan is not Ulyanovsk; it has its own ethnic composition, its own culture, and its own sensitivities. A parachuted-in cadre who is completely unfamiliar with the local situation will find it difficult to gain the respect of the people.

Gorbachev retorted, "It is precisely because he has no connection with the old system in Kazakhstan that he can unleash his power to fight corruption and push for reforms."

The local cadres are all entangled in Kunayev's network of connections; replacing him with a local would just be a change in name only. Corbin is a capable and clean cadre, just like when you went to Uzbekistan. I believe he can bring a fresh perspective to Kazakhstan.”

Slava could no longer tell whether Gorbachev was jokingly mocking him or genuinely being an idiot.

Slava sighed: "Did we consult the local Kazakhstani party organization before appointing the First Secretary of Kazakhstan?"

Have you considered how the local people will view a leader who was parachuted in from Russia and can't even speak a proper Kazakh?

“In the Soviet Union, the leaders of the constituent republics were appointed by the central government; that was the organizational principle.” Gorbachev’s tone carried a hint of impatience. “Did every appointment have to be preceded by a ‘public opinion poll’?”

Slava didn't say anything more. He knew he had to clean up Gorbachev's mess and, incidentally, win over more local officials.

This way, when Gorbachev is called to a meeting in the future, more people can be recruited.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Almaty, December 16, morning.

The plenary session of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of Kazakhstan was held in the capital of the republic, and the session lasted only eighteen minutes in total.

A working group from Moscow, led by Razumov, deputy head of the Organization Department of the CPSU Central Committee, arrived in Almaty that day.

First, Razumov read out the resolution of the Moscow Politburo, accepting Kunayev's request to retire "at his own request." Then, Kunayev gave a brief farewell speech. Next, Razumov nominated Corbin to succeed him, which was approved by applause from the entire audience.

In just 18 minutes, a man who had ruled Kazakhstan for 18 years was dismissed and an outsider who had never spent a day in Kazakhstan was appointed as the supreme leader of the republic.

How could there not be riots?

Kunayev was told to hand over his office keys immediately, and he left the Party Central Committee building before midnight that day.

The results of the meeting were broadcast on the evening news, and the news anchor read them out:

"...According to the decision of the Central Committee of the CPSU, Comrade Tinmokhko Kunayev requested retirement, and Comrade Gennady Vasilyevich Kolbin was appointed as the First Secretary of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of Kazakhstan."

A photo of Corbin appeared on the screen, the face of a typical Russian cadre, a name that a Kazakh from Almaty had never seen or heard of before.

As soon as the news captions appeared, students at various universities in Almaty were in an uproar.

On the 17th, a large-scale demonstration was held in Almaty, with more than 1 people taking to the streets, mostly students and young people from various universities. Gorbachev decided to suppress it by force.

As soon as the news reached Slava from KGB Chairman Chebrikov, Slava knew things were going to go wrong.

He decided to inquire through KGB channels, and that evening, Chebrikov's men delivered a report on Kazakhstan to Slava's office.

Slava realized halfway through the reading that the driving force behind the riots was not just Gorbachev's terrible personnel decisions.

There was another person—Nazarbayev.

Nursultan Nazarbayev, then 46 years old, was the Chairman of the Council of Ministers of Kazakhstan, the head of the government of the Republic, and also the highest-ranking, youngest, and most ambitious Kazakh cadre.

Before his removal, Kunayev had clearly expressed his opposition to Nazarbayev's succession to Moscow. His reasons were that Nazarbayev was too young, too ambitious, and would dismantle the old system.

In other words, there has long been a factional struggle between Kunayev and Nazarbayev, and Nazarbayev has begun to challenge Kunayev's family network in the past year or two.

Moreover, as the highest-ranking Kazakh official, Nazarbayev did not voice any public opposition to Korbin's appointment!

How can one so easily qualified candidate from one's own ethnic group be skipped over, and remain silent in the face of an appointment that so deeply hurts one's ethnic feelings?

Something's not right, not even nine-tenths right.

Slava also noted that Nazarbayev appeared in the square after the riots broke out, urging students to go home as a mediator—but he made no promises of concessions, nor did he publicly oppose Corbin's appointment; he was merely mediating.

Nazarbayev didn't need to organize the riots himself; he only needed to give them a little push with his decades-old local network, and they would spread uncontrollably!

He wouldn't have to pay any price. He could even play the role of a mediator sympathetic to the students during the repression, building up his own people's prestige while maintaining a reliable image by not openly confronting Moscow.

The riots eliminated his rivals, proved to him that outsiders couldn't work, and showed that his own hands were clean.

Most of these young students who took to the streets had no idea that they were being used as pawns!

Sigh, that's how students are. Full of enthusiasm, they're easily led to bleed, only to have the fruits of their labor reaped by those behind them.

PS: Historically, after the Almaty riots, Nazarbayev successfully rose to power and served as the top leader for many years until the collapse of the regime.

Slava was very worried that the unrest would have a great impact on the central government. He knew that he did not yet have the authority to mobilize the KGB. The power to mobilize the armed forces still needed to go through the process of the Politburo, but time was precious.

He immediately persuaded Chebrikov:

"I must go to Kazakhstan immediately, and if possible, I'll take more people with me. Send me some elite special agents."

The Central Committee made a mistake in appointing Corbin. A foreigner who did not speak Kazakh and had never lived in Kazakhstan was parachuted into the position of First Secretary without consulting the local community. This was an insult to national sentiment, and it is entirely understandable that it provoked resistance.

However, if local authorities succeed in resisting central government personnel appointments through street riots, it will set an extremely dangerous precedent!