Hoping good will come from tragedy (10/31/07)

Word came, as it often does these days, by e-mail.

The subject line said this: "awful news from Osh."

Alisher Saipov was dead. Murdered.

"Young Alisher" is how we thought of him. That's how we made sure we didn't confuse him with "Old Alisher," another seminar participant.

Our paths first crossed in 2002 in a seminar I helped conduct in Bishkek for the International Center for Journalists. They crossed again when I returned to Kyrgyzstan for ICFJ to do a week-long seminar for print journalists at Internews in the spring of 2003. And they crossed a third time early that fall when I made yet another trip to Kyrgyzstan, this time to conduct a newspaper distribution study for Freedom House.

Both in 2002 and in 2003, I was able to travel to Osh - a city that always seems to be only a few degrees below the boiling point - to meet with Alisher and other progressive journalists there.

Alisher was a creature of Osh. He embodied that city and its countless contradictions.

Ethnically Uzbek, he was a citizen of Kyrgyzstan. Yet he seemed loyal to both, loyal to Kyrgyzstan as a legal resident who enjoyed its - relative - freedom compared with Uzbekistan and loyal by blood and heritage to his Uzbek forebears, regardless of what the boundary lines said on any map.

Mention the Ferghana Valley to most Westerners, and you will draw blank stares. It's hard to explain the arbitrariness of its national boundaries and the islands and enclaves of ethnic Kyrgyz in Uzbekistan and ethnic Uzbeks in Kyrgyzstan.

And I'm not sure I'll ever be able to fully explain Alisher to my fellow Americans, what motivated him, what made him do what he did.

When we first met, he was working for a pretty horrible newspaper in Osh, one of those rags that publishes paid articles inflating the importance of local business people, then prints hundreds of extra copies so the flattered individual can pass them around.

It was a far cry from real journalism. But Alisher knew that, and he knew he was capable of much, much more.

He was a kid when we first met. He wasn't much more than a kid - just 26 - when he was shot to death at point blank range outside his office last week.

But he had taken the lessons of journalism to heart - tell the truth as best you know it, let facts drive the story, and be prepared to defy authority - and put them to work.

In the past few years, Alisher had been contributing articles to the Voice of America and had become editor of his own newspaper, which focused on politics.

As an Uzbek on the Kyrgyz side of the border, he was in a unique position to comment on the repression of the Islam Karimov regime.

When Karimov's minions directed a massacre in the city of Andijon, Alisher was in a unique position to tell the stories of the survivors.

When Karimov's secret police slipped across the border to silence or snatch dissidents, Alsiher was in a unique position to tell that story as well.

To the Karimov regime in Uzbekistan, Alisher was a threat.

There he was, across the border but close enough to the border that his newspaper, the only Uzbek language newspaper published in Osh, could be smuggled easily back to those hungry for independent reporting and fearless commentary.

It's no coincidence that Alisher was a contributor to Voice of America's Uzbek language service. They are pursuing the same mission.

Obviously, Alisher was a threat.

And, just as obviously, the Uzbek secret police top the list of suspects for his murder.

Now the current president of Kyrgyzstan - no great shakes in the human rights department himself - has said he'll head up the investigation of Alisher's murder personally. Whether that's so he can control what information comes out or prevent information from coming out is anyone's guess.

We'll hope for the former and not be surprised by the latter.

In his defense, it's a little hard to get tough about border disputes when those enclaves of ethnic Kyrgyz are still little islands on the map on the other side of the border in Uzbekistan.

Don't hold your breath for the kind of smooth, slick wrap-up of the investigation one sees on TV. It's unlikely to happen.

And so, we're left with this, with memories of a bright, intense, growing, funny, articulate, and thoughtful young man, deeply connected to his ethnic roots and equally deeply concerned about the future of his people, now gone.

In about the time it takes to send an e-mail, three bullets were sent to do their job.

And those of us who knew and respected Alisher Saipov and enjoyed his company can only mourn. Mourn and hope that life will be better for the two-month-old daughter he leaves behind.[[In-content Ad]]