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V. Continued Repression in Andijan

Repression against Those Who Stayed in Uzbekistan

In previous publications, Human Rights Watch described the wave of repression against the participants in the Andijan events in the summer of 2005, including massive arrests and detentions, and widespread use of torture to coerce confessions from participants in and witnesses to the events.¹¹

Many of the people subjected to the “filtration” process (detention, torture, and other ill-treatment that usually led to the signing of coerced confessions) faced criminal charges in summer 2005. Later, they were either convicted in closed trials or turned into National Security Service (SNB) informants meant to help the security service identify other Andijan participants and witnesses.

However, even after people were released from detention, they were never left in peace—the authorities continued to summon them for questioning on a regular basis, threatening them with criminal prosecution, and forcing them to collect information implicating other witnesses or participants in the events. Human Rights Watch interviewed at least nine individuals who finally fled Andijan during 2007and early 2008, exhausted by constant harassment and fearing for their lives and freedom.

In an illustrative case, “Salim S.,” a witness to the Andijan events, said that the police subjected him to harsh questioning immediately after the May 13 events, and then continued to summon him sporadically for questioning in the months thereafter. The pressure intensified in spring 2006. The authorities then accused him of being the source of information “that continued to leak from Andijan to the West.”¹² The questioning continued on a weekly basis through autumn 2006, and the authorities repeatedly threatened him with criminal prosecution. He described one of his interactions with the prosecutor’s office to Human Rights Watch:

The prosecutor slammed his fist on the table, and started screaming at me. He said, “You! First, I’ll charge you with some financial fraud, or tax violation. Then, I’ll arrest you for larceny, and even if this doesn’t land you in prison, you would have to pay such a fine that you would have to sell your house, sell everything you’ve got. And finally, I’ll turn you into a recidivist or a Wahabi, and you’ll spend 20 years in prison.”¹³

At the end of 2006, when Salim S. was not home, police conducted a search of his house, and forced his wife to sign a document that they did not allow her to read. After that, Salim left Andijan and lived in other places in Uzbekistan for a year. When he returned to Andijan, however, a contact in the anti-terrorism department of the Interior Ministry informed him that the police had collected evidence about his “anti-state” activities and contacts with foreign journalists. Salim S. then fled the country with his family.¹⁴

Another interviewee, “Gulnara G.,” also described to Human Rights Watch the never-ending ordeal she had to go through as a result of the fact that she had participated in the May 13 demonstration.¹⁵

Gulnara G. went to the demonstration with her husband. After government forces opened fire on the crowd, she fled with others, and almost made it to Kyrgyzstan. However, when Uzbek border guards fired at the people trying to prevent them from crossing over to Kyrgyzstan, Gulnara G. was seriously wounded by a gunshot to the arm. She was unconscious, and her husband, who believed she had been shot dead, decided to leave her behind, along with several others who were killed or seriously wounded. Her brother-in-law also fled to Kyrgyzstan.

An ambulance took her to a hospital, where her arm was bandaged but she received no other treatment for her wound. As soon as she regained consciousness, security officials started interrogating her. The same night they took her to the prosecutor’s office in the nearby town, and continued the interrogations. Gulnara G. said that the interrogators wanted her to confess that she and her husband were members of “Akramia,” the Islamic grouping the government blamed for the uprising. According to Gulnara G., they held her at gunpoint, threatened to rape her, and refused to provide her any medical assistance, although she was bleeding and feeling sick at the time. Security officials reportedly tried to handcuff her but were unable to because of the bandage on her arm. As a result of the wound, she remains unable to use two fingers.¹⁶

Gulnara G. was released around midnight on May 14. On May 15 Gulnara G. returned to Andijan.

Several days later, the police came to Gulnara G.’s house, confiscated the passports of her husband and brother–in law who also fled on the day of massacre, and took her and her mother-in-law to the local department of the Ministry of Internal Affairs; her father-in-law was already there. The police then took her to a local hospital and made her identify other participants in the Andijan events from among patients in the wards. Gulnara told the police that she did not recognize anyone in the hospital, but reported that the investigators nevertheless forced her to point at people randomly, and write down names that were given to her by the police. If she did not, they threatened to “rape her in the cellar” and then press criminal charges against her.¹⁷ Gulnara and her mother-in-law were released the same day, but her father-in-law spent 10 days in detention.

After her release, her life never returned to normal, Gulnara G. said,

Until September 2006, the police used to come to our house once or twice every week. They came in their cars, and every time we shuddered and took pills to calm down. They would take me and other family members away in the afternoon and interrogate us for many hours [in a police station] and then bring us back at 2 or 3 in the morning. I couldn’t get in touch with my husband because the phone was tapped.… But worst of all, people stopped coming to our home. They were afraid—whoever visited us then got arrested and sometimes detained for a long time; one of our relatives spent 25 days in detention after he visited us.¹⁸

In April 2007 Gulnara G. and her daughter fled to Kyrgyzstan along with other families.

Returnees from Kyrgyzstan

Some refugees who fled to Kyrgyzstan on the night of May 13, 2005, eventually gave in to the incessant pressure and went back to Uzbekistan before they could be resettled. Uzbek authorities promised these returnees that they would be “forgiven” if they returned and would not face persecution. Some of these “returnees” described to Human Rights Watch experiences upon return to Andijan that eventually forced them to flee Uzbekistan again—two or more years after the massacre.

The police and the National Security Service repeatedly interrogated these returnees and subjected them to constant surveillance, trying to identify other participants in the demonstration. They forced them, under coercion, to sign witness statements and confessions that supported the government’s version of events. Some told Human Rights Watch they were forced to confess publicly and to admit to the “mistakes” they had made by participating in the demonstration and fleeing the country.

An illustrative case is “Zulfia Z.,” who participated in the May 2005 demonstration, and then found refuge in Kyrgyzstan along with others who fled the massacre. In June 2005, however, her husband, who had stayed in Andijan, went to Kyrgyzstan and brought her back to Uzbekistan. Zulfia Z. said that after their return, she, her husband, and teenage son, as well as other members of their extended family, were repeatedly interrogated and forced to sign various incriminating statements.¹⁹ Zulfia Z. said that the security forces threatened her husband with criminal prosecution and forced him to confess that he supported Akramia. Zulfia Z. herself was forced to say that gunmen used her and other civilians as human shields on May 13.²⁰

In October 2005 the police took Zulfia Z. and her son, along with about 50 other Andijan residents, to Tashkent to testify at the trials. According to Zulfia Z., they were kept in a hotel for several days and guarded by men in military uniforms. During this time, the prosecutors instructed them what to say in the courtroom. Zulfia Z. said she was appalled that the prosecutors expected them to tell lies about what happened in Andijan, and that they kept threatening those who tried to refuse.

Zulfia Z. told Human Rights Watch that until March 2006 the police had regularly summoned her and other family members for interrogation and that she had felt she was under constant surveillance. Then, interrogations stopped, but local policemen continued to visit their house regularly, before public holidays or “when the gas was turned off,” to warn them to keep quiet and not go to any “demonstrations.”²¹ The government appeared particularly concerned that there would be new protests as a result of such economic hardship.

In February 2007 a friendly contact in the local police told the family that they should leave the country; otherwise they might be arrested. In April 2007, after they learned of an unexpected visit from the police while the family was not at home, Zulfia Z. and her husband fled to Kyrgyzstan along with several other families from Andijan.

Men who participated in the Andijan events have faced even more serious consequences. The statements of refugees who fled to Kyrgyzstan throughout 2007 and in the beginning of 2008, as well as the information that Human Rights Watch has received from Andijan over the past three years suggest that approximately a year after the massacre, in summer 2006, the Uzbek authorities had apparently processed all who had been arrested in the immediate aftermath of the massacre. They then launched a new hunt for those they believed had participated in the Andijan events but had managed to escape the earlier persecution.

Judging from the statements collected by Human Rights Watch, many of those targeted were people who had fled to neighboring countries, including Kyrgyzstan, after the May 2005 events, but then returned to Andijan. As already mentioned, these returnees had been promised that they would be “forgiven” and would not face persecution. Indeed, at least in some of these cases, the authorities did not go after the returnees during the first wave of repression, but targeted them more than a year after the massacre.

Their accounts paint a grim picture of torture and other ill-treatment, threats, fabricated criminal cases, coerced confessions, and convictions in closed trials that took place in the second half of 2006 and the first half of 2007.

For example, “Umar U.” told Human Rights Watch that he returned to Andijan in mid-2005, after being guaranteed by the Uzbek authorities that he would not face problems. A year later, however, local police in Andijan arrested him.

Umar U. was held in the Andijan pretrial detention facility (SIZO) where interrogators subjected him to regular beatings and other forms of ill-treatment and torture. According to Umar U., they wanted him to confess that he carried a gun during the May 13 events in Andijan, and to provide names and contact information for people who fled to Kyrgyzstan, Kazakhstan, and Russia. He told Human Rights Watch,

They didn’t care whether I had committed anything or not. They beat me because I had applied for refugee status in Kyrgyzstan, and because my brother fled the country.

They beat me with clubs in the kidney area and forced me to stand straight and keep my hands behind my neck during these beatings. They said, “If you move your hands, it is considered an assault. If you say anything, it is considered an insult.” They beat me every second day. They also put a gas mask on me and cut off the air, and beat me on my feet with a wooden stick.…

By September I couldn’t take it anymore. I gave in after they said they would treat my parents as “enemies of the state.” They also said, “You have a wife. You know that we can do whatever we want with your wife, right?” After that, I was ready to sign anything. I was ready to confess that I was in the tank, that I fired a gun, or that I am Bin Laden’s best friend.²²

Umar U. spent seven months in pretrial detention, first in Andijan and later in Tashkent prisons, and was eventually tried, convicted, and ultimately released.

Umar U. also reported that he had met many detainees while in detention who were accused of participation in the Andijan events, and all of them reported having been subjected to torture in both the SIZO and the prison. At least two of them, according to Umar U., were also people who returned to Uzbekistan after being promised an “amnesty,” and both were facing long prison sentences.

Umar U. said that he had been released on condition that he would communicate to everybody, especially the refugees who fled abroad, that everything was going “great” in Uzbekistan, and that he had been “treated really well, never beaten, and released from prison.”²³ According to Umar U., he was required to report to the local police three times a week, which he did. However, on one of his visits in spring 2007, the police told him that he was supposed to have come the day before and that if it happened again, he would be rearrested. Umar U. then decided not to tempt fate, and fled to Kyrgyzstan shortly thereafter.

Another participant in the Andijan events, “Rovshan R.,” also described to Human Rights Watch the ordeal, including torture, he went through after being convinced to return to Andijan in mid-2006. Despite the authorities’ assurances, the SNB detained Rovshan R. two months after his return, and held him first at the local SNB department in Andijan, and then in Tashkent. In both places, he was tortured to force him to confess that he had possessed arms during the Andijan demonstration and to implicate other participants. He told Human Rights Watch,

In [date withheld] I was called in to the SNB in Tashkent. I went and they took everything away—my belt, even my shoelaces. The same day they beat me on the feet and legs with a stick so badly that my legs were all one big bruise. They were four huge masked guys, I couldn’t see their faces. They would throw me to the floor, and beat me, and trample me down. When they beat me on the feet, the pain was so bad—I couldn’t tell one slash from the other. When they brought me to the cell, my legs were so swollen that I couldn’t put my shoes on.²⁴

When Rovshan still refused to confess, the interrogators started bringing his friends whom they had detained earlier into the interrogation room to incriminate him. He said,

They brought in a witness, a friend of mine. He used to be a big guy, but that day he was very skinny, it was scary to look at him. He was limping. They were shouting, “Tell us, has he been there?” My friend just said, “I am sorry [Rovshan—real name withheld], I could not stand it.” They continued shouting “Was he there?!” and my friend said, “Yes.”

I could hear the voice of my other friend behind the door. He was one of my best friends; we always helped each other in our lives. He was refusing to enter the room. I heard him saying “I will say ‘Yes,’ but I cannot look at him.” I heard the cops call him “Sharik [name changed],” a dog’s name. “Sharik, come here! Down! Enter.” He entered on hands and knees, the cop continued to have fun, “Sharik, come to me....” The cop put his leg on my friend’s back; the friend was all the time staying on his hands and knees. The cop asked, “Was it him?” pointing at me. My friend answered, “It was dark, I couldn’t see, I don’t know.” They started beating him in front of me and then dragged him out of the room.²⁵

Rovshan said that by the time he was released, he was ready to do whatever the SNB officials told him to. They forced him to work as an informant. However, after a while the SNB started pressuring him again, claiming he was not working hard enough and was not providing any valuable information. He knew there was a criminal file against him, and the SNB kept threatening that they would take it up again unless he “produces something big.” Fearing for his life and freedom, Rovshan R. decided to flee Andijan again in autumn 2007.²⁶

Returnees from the United States

Several dozen refugees who initially fled to Kyrgyzstan and were later resettled in the United States have returned to Andijan since 2006.

While at least some of these individuals may have chosen to return home voluntarily for the reasons noted above, information collected from Uzbek refugee communities in Europe and the United States, as well as from agencies that assisted with their integration abroad, strongly suggests that the Uzbek government used a combination of threats and promises to lure resettled refugees back.

Information about the fate of these returnees is scarce. Andijan remains essentially off-limits for independent observers who are intent on conducting research, making it difficult to assess the current situation of returnees. Many independent voices in Andijan, including human rights activists, journalists, and political activists, have either fled or been intimidated into silence. What is more, the returnees themselves try to keep a low profile and avoid speaking about their experiences even with their neighbors and friends. A number of persons who were in touch with the returnees told Human Rights Watch that the returnees did not interact with former friends and neighbors, and that they looked scared and dispirited.

One interviewee (name withheld) told Human Rights Watch that some of the first people returning from the US had been encouraged to do so by several people who had been imprisoned after the Andijan events and then released on the condition that they would cooperate with the authorities. These men had relatives sentenced to long prison terms, and the authorities promised to reduce the relatives’ time in prison if they managed to convince the refugees to return. The Uzbek authorities started a major propaganda campaign, convincing the refugees that they were welcome to return to Uzbekistan and that their lives would be carefree once they returned. They managed to bring the first group of 11 people back. The interviewee, himself forced to be an informant before fleeing the country, told Human Rights Watch,

[The authorities] first threatened them when they came back. Some of them came to me and they were crying. Friends who came back told me that they were promised everything would be great. “And now, I am a snitch, I report to the prosecutor’s office, I betray my friends, I have to name those who had arms and others,” a friend of mine said. “We were told by the Americans that we should not go back to Uzbekistan, but we did not listen. Now I cannot go back [to the US,] because I signed a paper there that I went back to Uzbekistan voluntarily despite the warnings.”

I know about 10 men who came back from the US. All of them are depressed. They know that they made a big mistake. They are angry at their friends and relatives who told them that they should come back.

There are also women who came back, but I could not talk to the women. In general, just think about it—if her husband is in prison, and her children remain in Andijan, nobody would let her stay abroad. Relatives would lie to her that everything is fine until she comes back.

Men who came back from the US do small jobs in the bazaar, or some construction work. They are not generally allowed to hire more than one of them [returnees]. If two of them work at the same place, the owner is immediately called to the police, or the SNB. They are not allowed to work together; they are not even allowed to interact with each other. They only interact secretly.²⁷

One resident of Andijan, “Kamila K.,” who has visited some of the returnees in her neighborhood, also reported that they have been under constant surveillance, and people in the neighborhood advised her not to maintain contact with them. She knew at least two of the men already before they fled Uzbekistan, and she was shocked by the change in their behavior and views when they returned. She said,

One of them, [name withheld], became a completely different person; everything changed in his behavior. He just keeps praising [President] Islam Karimov over and over again. I felt like he was keeping it all back, too scared to tell the truth.

Another one, [name withheld], also acts strange. He would not say anything, would not share any details, just that things were fine. He said, though, that up until now he is being called in twice a week by the police or the SNB.²⁸

Another interviewee, “Umida U.,” said that when she spoke to the wife of one of the returnees, the woman said that her husband has not been able to find a job since his return to Andijan, and that their life is very difficult. She would not go into any details about her husband’s experience, yet kept pressing Umida to flee Uzbekistan.²⁹

Judging by the information that Human Rights Watch has been able to obtain, the returnees from the United States are subjected to intense pressure and intimidation, but not to ill-treatment or physical torture. This is possibly due to the fact that the government has been persistently trying to convince more refugees to return, and the mistreatment of those who have gone back would significantly undermine these efforts. As one of the interviewees who was in contact with the returnees put it:

[The refugees] who came back from the US are under strong surveillance, but not directly persecuted. I think this is just for the time being. The government just wants to get everybody back to Uzbekistan to save its secrets. They will start the real pressure after they get more or less everybody back.³⁰

Rovshan R. said that after the refugees returned from the US he was asked by the SNB to write accusatory statements against them, alleging that they had possessed weapons and organized the violence. He knew that the SNB then summoned many, if not all, of the returnees. According to Rovshan R., a person from the SNB told him, “One day they [the returnees] will pay for it. One day they will make some mistake and we’ll imprison them—if not officially for Andijan, then for something else.”³¹ Rovshan told Human Rights Watch how SNB instructed him to spy on the returnees:

[The SNB officer told me], “You should know everything: where they go, with whom they spend time.” As there were mostly women who came back, I was told to send my wife to be friends with them. “Your wife should talk to these women, and also should listen to what people say in the mahalla. Ask them what those who are still abroad say about Uzbekistan. And report everything.”³²

Umar U. reported that during his detention in Andijan and Tashkent he met at least three detainees whose wives had been resettled in the United States. The government apparently promised the men that they would receive better treatment in prison and that the torture would stop, if their wives returned. According to Umar U., the men’s situation indeed seemed to improve after the wives returned, and the wives were allowed to visit them in prison.³³

The Uzbek authorities continue their efforts to obtain the return of other Andijan refugees, using a combination of propaganda, promises, and pressure on the refugees’ families still in Uzbekistan. The state-controlled media has published eulogistic statements by returnees, describing their happy life and complete lack of pressure. The authorities have also tried to ensure that the message gets directly from Andijan to refugees resettled abroad, by asking the returnees to contact the refugees and assure them that they had faced no problem upon return.

Despite the government’s assurances, however, most refugees we interviewed continue to have very serious concerns about the risk they would face if they returned to Uzbekistan. Their fears are only exacerbated by ongoing reports of government persecution of anyone it considers to have been associated with the Andijan events, including some returnees, as well as the inability of independent monitors to assess current conditions in Andijan.

Kamila K., whose son had been resettled abroad, told Human Rights Watch,

Just recently, an SNB officer came and asked for my son’s phone number—so that he could get the other returnees to call him. They would then convince him to come back and explain that nothing would happen to him. But I don’t believe him! … I’ve met several people who came back. One of them didn’t say much about himself and what his life has been like upon return, but he made it very clear that my son should not come back, should never ever think of returning!³⁴

In a situation where fear and intimidation are so pervasive that there is little chance of speaking freely to returnees in Andijan about their treatment, and the government continues to suppress the flow of information from the region, it is extremely difficult to assess the well-being and safety of these individuals.

Families of Refugees Resettled Abroad

Human Rights Watch interviewed approximately two dozen individuals who were the family members of resettled Andijan refugees. Although many of these individuals had nothing to do with the May 13 events, they became the targets of intimidation and harassment by the authorities because their relatives had escaped to Kyrgyzstan and had been resettled abroad. As a result, they were compelled to leave Uzbekistan and seek temporary refuge in Kyrgyzstan in the hope that they would eventually be reunited with their family members abroad. Most of these individuals fled Uzbekistan in 2007 and early 2008.

Interviewees reported that after the news about their relatives’ resettlement reached the authorities, the police and other security services started tapping their phones, following them in the streets to monitor their contacts, and regularly summoning them for questioning. Some of the male relatives were also arbitrarily detained and beaten in custody.

Wives

While hundreds of women, many of them with children, attended the demonstration in Andijan on May 13, 2005, the majority of those who managed to escape to Kyrgyzstan after the government crackdown were men.³⁵ Many of these men left behind their wives and children.

For women who stayed in Andijan after their husbands’ escape, life turned into a nightmare. It was very difficult for them to support themselves and their families financially, and they had to rely on their husbands’ relatives or return to their parental homes. The community—their neighbors, and especially the mahalla committees (neighborhood councils), turned them into outcasts, often humiliating them and depriving them of assistance that under different circumstances single mothers with children could expect. Worst of all, the authorities—the police and the SNB—subjected them to incessant harassment and persecution, apparently in the hope that such pressure would impel their husbands’ return.

For example, “Farida F.,” whose husband and brother-in-law were resettled abroad, reported that the local police, prosecutor’s office, SNB, and the mahalla committee subjected her to constant harassment after her husband fled to Kyrgyzstan, and especially after he was evacuated to Romania in August 2005. She said that the authorities requested copies of documents, such as passports and birth certificates of all family members, and repeatedly summoned her for questioning.

She also reported that her husband’s youngest brother—who remained in Andijan—had been detained for 10 days and severely beaten during his detention. Interrogators reportedly told him that he “would pay for his two brothers” who had escaped.³⁶

Farida F. also told Human Rights Watch that the repressive measures used by the government had turned her and other families into outcasts in their communities. They said male members of the households were often unable to find employment or receive medical assistance. Their own lives had become difficult because people treated them as “lepers,” fearing that any contact with these families might trigger persecution.³⁷

Ultimately, as a result of this harassment by the authorities and the social ostracism by the community, Farida F. fled to Kyrgyzstan with her children in November 2006.

Another woman, “Mahmuda M.,” told Human Rights Watch that since her husband’s resettlement abroad in 2005, she and her mother-in-law had been summoned to the police at least once a month and questioned about her husband’s whereabouts, his contacts, and his role in the Andijan events. She also reported that her husband’s teenage brother had been terribly frightened when a bus of police and military personnel came to the house three days in a row when he was home alone.³⁸

According to Mahmuda M., the pressure on the family was so great that at some point her husband considered returning to Uzbekistan, but then decided against it. In April 2007, shortly after yet another visit by the local police to her house, Mahmuda fled with her two children to Kyrgyzstan. At the time of our interview with her, she was in hiding, waiting to reunite with her husband (see Chapter VI, below).

“Aziza A.” said that after her husband fled Andijan a second time in fall 2007, she was repeatedly summoned by the SNB, the local police, and the mahalla committee. All of them were inquiring about her husband’s whereabouts. She said that in most cases the interrogators made sure to torment her:

Usually, the interrogations started at 10 a.m. and lasted for two hours. I am pregnant; it was hard for me to endure this. One day they summoned me in the morning, and I had to stay till 11 p.m., while they just kept saying that the person who should talk to me wasn’t there yet. My father-in-law then got very angry; he called our local policeman and told him, “Don’t you see there are only women and children left here?! If you come again, I will just lock the door and put the house on fire.” We fled soon afterwards.³⁹

At least half a dozen other women provided very similar accounts of harassment they faced following the resettlement of their husbands abroad.

Sons and daughters

Uzbek authorities have also targeted the sons and daughters of Andijan refugees, especially young men. Because their parents’ had fled abroad, some of these individuals faced a range of measures from harassment and disciplinary measures at schools and universities, to detention, coercive interrogations, and threats of criminal prosecution.

One of the interviewees, 28-year-old “Saidjon S.,” told Human Rights Watch that after his father fled to Kyrgyzstan, he and his brother were regularly summoned by the local police, but their mother would always go instead. The officers kept insisting that she should bring her husband back; otherwise they would turn to her sons. “They threatened to summon her daily,” Saidjon said. “They said they would open a criminal case against me and my brother. They told our mother, “We’ll arrest them and you’ll have no choice but to bring your husband.”⁴⁰

After Saidjon’s mother left Andijan to reunite with her husband abroad, the pressure intensified. The mahalla committee kept questioning him and his brother about their parents’ whereabouts. Saidjon believed that the authorities did not arrest them because they hoped to use the brothers to get their parents back.

However, the SNB first confiscated the car that Saidjon’s brother owned and operated as a taxi—claiming it was illegal to operate a car with tinted windows. Then, in July 2007, Saidjon was forced by the local police to close the internet cafe that he ran. Shortly thereafter, Saidjon and his brother fled Uzbekistan.⁴¹

“Sharpuddi Sh.,” a university student, told Human Rights Watch that after his mother had fled Uzbekistan and been resettled abroad, he was repeatedly summoned to the dean’s office where university officials ordered him to testify against his mother.⁴²

Another young man, 19-year-old “Nurali N.,” told Human Rights Watch that after his father fled Andijan, he was repeatedly summoned and questioned by the police. When he tried to recommence his studies in his high school after an interruption caused by the need to be a breadwinner for the family, the school requested a letter of reference from the mahalla committee. In the letter the committee included the information on his father, and Nurali was not readmitted into the school, nor was he given his high school diploma.⁴³

Several women told Human Rights Watch about harassment and humiliation their young children suffered in school because their fathers had fled the country. “Malika M.,” who has three school-age children, said,

Teachers at school called my kids “children of an enemy of the state.” Teachers were saying, “Why should I help you study if your father is an enemy of the state?” Some children in class were also repeating such things. After such words, I stopped sending my kids to school. They have not been to school since September 2006.⁴⁴

Another woman, “Zarina Z.,” said that her son was singled-out in his karate class, and while other children were learning their techniques, he was made to clean the floors. He kept coming home, crying, and after several months he quit the class. In addition, when the school was distributing clothes for low-income families, Zarina’s son came home from school with girls’ clothes. He said he didn’t want to take them, but the teacher forced him to. Zarina said it did not come as a surprise as the teacher has been making fun of her because her husband was a refugee.⁴⁵

Parents

Similar to the experiences of the sons and daughters of Andijan refugees who remained behind, the parents of individuals who fled Andijan also suffered persecution from the authorities. A number of inteviewees, men and women in their late 50s and 60s, described to Human Rights Watch the harassment that eventually turned them into refugees as well.

“Abdullah A.” said that he was summoned by the SNB for the first time in September 2006, after his son, persecuted by the authorities for his efforts to collect information about Andijan, had fled the town. He said that the interrogation lasted for more than seven hours, during which the interrogators beat him, asking for his son’s whereabouts. Abdullah A. said,

They asked me where my son was, but I responded that he was not a criminal and I wouldn’t have told them even if I knew. One of them then punched me in the face so hard I fell on the floor. The other two came over and started beating me all over with their fists and feet. They pulled me up, handcuffed me, and put a plastic bag on my head, and then started punching me in the chest. At that, I lost consciousness.⁴⁶

Abdullah A. was held for approximately 13 hours in detention and then released, but was forced to sign an undertaking not to leave Andijan. Over the next year, the SNB summoned him for questioning seven or eight times, and beat him during most of those interrogations. He eventually fled Andijan in December 2007, after the interrogators informed him that they had learned the whereabouts of his son and requested that Abdullah bring him in or else face criminal prosecution himself.⁴⁷

At least one of the people interviewed by Human Rights Watch reported that he left Uzbekistan after receiving a direct threat to his life. “Islam I.” said that he had been subjected to constant harassment and regular questioning because one of his sons was arrested and convicted for participation in the Andijan events and another had fled and was resettled abroad. However, Islam I. could not leave the country because he was responsible for taking care of his sons’ families. It was not until he realized that his life might be at risk that he decided to flee to Kyrgyzstan. He described his interactions with the authorities:

I was constantly called to the police, to the prosecutor’s office, and to the SNB; they always asked the same questions, and never explained why. However, the interrogations got harsher after I sent the family of my older son to reunite with him abroad. The interrogator told me, “Are you a normal person or not? We told you to get your son back, and instead you sent his family away. Do you take us for fools? Do you scoff at us? It looks like you don’t want to live quietly, you are looking for problems.”

I was forced to sign an agreement not to leave [Andijan]. I was obliged to report to the police every week. A district police officer came to our house almost daily.

In May 2007, a week after I got negative answers [from the authorities] to my inquiry about the amnesty for my younger son, I was called to Andijan SNB and to the police. At the police, there was a man in civilian clothes. He told me, “You, old man, you just can’t stay quiet. We put up with you for a long time; we took into account that you are old. But you just get on our nerves. We give you three days. In these three days you have to call back your son and his family; otherwise, you only have yourself to blame.” I answered, “What can you do to me? I am old. Put me in prison, I will stay there together with my son.” And they laughed, “Who will send you to prison? Your son works there, he produces alabaster, white lime, cement. And you are old, you can’t work. You will simply disappear.”⁴⁸

When Islam I. went to work the next day and was informed in confidence that “very big people” had come looking for him, he decided to leave for safety.

Surveillance and pressure not to leave the country

People interviewed by Human Rights Watch stated that they were told to report any contact they had with their relatives abroad, and to try to convince them to return to Uzbekistan.

“Nuria N.,” whose husband fled to Kyrgyzstan and was later resettled in Europe, described how her life had become a nightmare after the authorities found out that her husband had been resettled abroad:

While he was still in Kyrgyzstan, they used to come to our house to do searches; police and the prosecutor’s office kept interrogating me and my husband’s relatives. But then, after he called from [country withheld], they called me in again, and started asking where he was. They have been tapping the phones, and knew everything, but they wanted a confirmation from me. They told me I should come and report every time he calls. Then four policemen came to my house—fortunately, I was at the market, my neighbors told me later. And in the market I kept seeing the same men following me around. I just could not stand it anymore, and decided to leave with my four kids.⁴⁹

Relatives of Andijan refugees also told Human Rights Watch that the authorities, often through mahalla committees, tried to prevent them from reuniting with their family members abroad by keeping them under close surveillance and overtly threatening them not to leave.

One of the interviewees, “Nigora N.,” whose husband was resettled in 2006, said that she and many other family members of the refugees faced a difficult choice. She told Human Rights Watch,

The city department of the Interior Ministry forced me to sign an undertaking not to leave Andijan and not to participate in any demonstrations. The mahalla committee regularly came to our house and told us not to leave Uzbekistan, otherwise our relatives, including those in prison, would suffer. I know at least 10 other families whose husbands are abroad or in prison, and they all receive threats that their relatives will suffer if they flee.

Those abroad call their wives to join them, but many are afraid. Women who have husbands abroad also have their own families—their fathers, brothers, and mothers. If they were to leave Andijan, their relatives would suffer. If someone is released from prison, he is warned that he will be personally responsible if anyone [from his family] leaves Andijan.⁵⁰

Ultimately, Nigora N. decided to leave Andijan in early 2008, because she was most afraid for her 19-year-old son, whom the authorities had threatened to imprison.⁵¹

The threats usually came after the families received phone calls from their relatives resettled abroad or were visited by the ICRC representatives who brought them news about their relatives.

For example, Saidjon S. told Human Rights Watch that the ICRC visited him and his mother in autumn 2006 to inform them that his father had been resettled, and organized for them to speak to him on the phone. Immediately afterwards, the police summoned the family, and when Saidjon’s mother came, they started questioning her about the purpose of the ICRC’s visit, and threatened her, suggesting that the ICRC had offered her money.⁵²

Another interviewee, “Leila L.,” also said that after the ICRC delivered a letter from her husband who was then in Romania, the mahalla committee summoned her and instructed her to ask her husband to return. After her husband called her, the mahalla committee repeated the request, and forced her mother-in-law to sign an undertaking not to leave the country. Leila refused to sign such an undertaking, despite the pressure from the mahalla committee.⁵³

The mahalla committee and the local police continued to summon both women every month to report any communication they had with Leila’s husband. After her husband was resettled in the US, he started to call more frequently, and Leila was called in for questioning after each of these phone calls. She said that she and her husband knew they were being listened to, and thus only spoke about his return to Uzbekistan.⁵⁴

Zarina Z., who had a similar experience with the authorities, told Human Rights Watch,

A week after we received a letter from my husband through ICRC, the police came to our house to read the letter. They wanted to confiscate it, but my mother-in-law wouldn’t let them. After May 2006, when my husband relocated to the US and started calling from there, a policeman visited me every time after his phone calls. He said that my husband was in the US and if he asks me to join him I must refuse. He made me sign an undertaking not to leave and told me that if I do, I’ll become a refugee and a criminal myself.⁵⁵ 

In other cases, family members are monitored at work or at the school where they are studying to ensure that they do not leave the country. Umida U., whose husband was resettled abroad said that she had to give a written undertaking at her children’s school that the family would not leave the country.⁵⁶ Zarina Z., quoted immediately above, also said that after she fled to Kyrgyzstan with her children, the teachers from her children’s school came to her parents looking for her. They were angry and said they [the teachers] would be in trouble for failing to “notice and notify” the authorities that the family had left.⁵⁷