Working in Russia as a labor migrant is becoming increasingly challenging, especially for Central Asians. Demands for stricter measures against migrants, often laced with discriminatory undertones, are growing. 

On November 1, a 30-year-old Uzbekistan-born man, Mahmudjon Marufzoda, who acquired Russian citizenship on August 28, and two other new Russian citizens, were stripped of that citizenship for not registering for the military service on time. Marufzoda not only lost his Russian citizenship, but also can not stay in the country or return to it for five years. Later, he was offered a solution to the issue by signing an agreement with Russia’s Ministry of Defense, but Marufzoda refused, saying “It is over now.”

This happened days after a Russian politician reprimanded Uzbekistan for not allowing its citizens to serve in the Russian Army.

What Happened?

On October 19, the leader of the A Just Russia faction in the Russian Parliament and State Duma, Deputy Sergey Mironov, demanded a visa regime to be introduced between Russia and Uzbekistan. In a short post on X (formerly Twitter) Mironov wrote about his resentment toward a recent reminder by the Consulate of Uzbekistan in Kazan warning Uzbek citizens not to enlist in the Russian Army. Receiving different social benefits from Russia is allowed by Tashkent, “but defending the country that feeds you is not allowed,” Mironov wrote. “Visa regime! And that’s all! Such ‘citizens’ are not needed.” 

It did not take Uzbek politicians long to fire back. The chairman of the National Revival Party, Milliy Tiklanish, and a deputy speaker of the Legislative Chamber, Alisher Qodirov, posted a screenshot of Mironov’s post on his Telegram channel immediately, saying “Blessed Uzbek nation earns by hard work, not by killing people. Mironov himself, his sons, sons-in-law and grandsons should defend Russia.” 

Another Uzbek politician, Rasul Kusherbayev, an adviser to the Minister of Ecology of Uzbekistan, and a former deputy of the Legislative Chamber of the Oliy Majlis, went further, interpreting the “high-profile Russian politician’s remarks” as Russia’s attempt to find “an excuse to strain its relations with Uzbekistan.” Kusherbaev also suggested that Uzbekistan could also consider imposing a visa regime for Russian citizens and questioned how the Russian consulate would react if Tashkent began sending Russian citizens residing in Uzbekistan to war.

“Russian politicians are inferring that they view Uzbekistan as a dependent state,” he added.

Is Central Asia Dependent on Russia for Labor Migration?

Officially, around 1.8 million Uzbeks work in Russia. The actual number is difficult to know due to the prevalence of undocumented workers, as well as labor migration’s seasonal nature, but unofficially, the figure could be twice as many. Because obtaining and retaining a work permit creates additional hurdles, many Central Asian migrants try to get Russian citizenship. In 2022 alone, 27,000 Uzbekistanis became Russian citizens. Over 173,000 people from Tajikistan and another 42,000 from Kazakhstan did the same. Neither Kazakhstan nor Uzbekistan recognize dual citizenship, but Tajikistan does.

For many Central Asian families, remittances from relatives working abroad, mostly in Russia, form a major portion of their income. Remittances received by Tajikistan in 2023 were the equivalent of 38 percent of the country’s GDP. The figure was around 15 percent for Uzbekistan  and 20 percent for Kyrgyzstan.

But this dependency is not one sided. Russia needs manpower to run its economy and the bulk of its migrant workers are from Central Asia and other CIS countries. 

Despite facing a shortage of nearly 5 million workers, particularly in sectors like industry, agriculture, trade, construction, and utilities, Moscow’s stance toward Central Asian migrants has only grown more hostile. For many in Russian state media and among politicians, criticizing Central Asian migrants has increasingly come to be viewed as an act of patriotism. This attitude especially worsened after the Crocus City Hall terrorist attack, given that the alleged perpetrators were  from Tajikistan. 

The Saga Continues

On October 31, Deputy Chairman of the Security Council of Russia Dmitry Medvedev (formerly president of Russia from 2008 to 2012) called for the  children of migrants to be expelled if they do not speak Russian. “When children who actually don’t know Russian end up (at schools), the general level of education suffers from this. It is known to everyone, and it’s time to put an end to it,” said Medvedev. He also added that family members of a labor migrant, if they are not working or studying, should leave too. 

Qodirov had an immediate reaction to Medvedev’s words too. “This cruelty to children will shape the attitude toward the Russian language in the future,” he wrote in his Telegram channel.

Unlike many who were born in the Uzbek SSR and studied in schools using the Cyrillic alphabet, Qodirov avoids using Cyrillic and doesn’t conform to the standard Latin script currently official in Uzbekistan, either. Instead, he deliberately uses Turkic letters, such as “ş” instead of “sh,” “ç” instead of “ch,” signaling his alignment with the Turkic world over Western or Russian influences.

“The ineffective funds being directed toward promoting the Russian language in Uzbekistan would be more beneficial if used to teach Russian to Uzbeks residing in Russia,” added Qodirov. 

This is not the first time Qodirov has spoken against the promotion of the Russian language in Uzbekistan or questioned Russia’s motives. Earlier this year, when so-called Russian historian Mikhail Smolin claimed that the Uzbek nation, as well as the Kazakh or Azeri nations, did not exist before the 1917 revolution, Qodirov called for reducing the use of Russian language in education, media, and other spheres in Uzbekistan.

Later, a series of public reprimands also unfolded over an incident that occurred in a Russian-language class at a public school in Uzbekistan involving the official representative of the Russian Foreign Ministry Maria Zakharova, deputy chairman of the the Federation Council Committee on International Affairs and a senator of the Russian Federation Andrey Klimov, and Qodirov. 

Not the First Time

Russia has always used its migration policy as a political tool. In 2006, for example, when four Russian citizens were arrested in Tbilisi, Georgia and charged with espionage, Moscow started a full scale persecution of Georgians in its territory. Putin himself called the arrest “state terrorism with hostage taking” and Russia stopped issuing visas to Georgian citizens. Russia’s retaliation continued even after Tbilisi returned the Russian citizens via the OSCE. Moscow closed its borders for transport and deported 2,300 Georgians, including those residing in Russia legally. Another 2,000 left Russia on their own initiative. 

2011 witnessed an anti-Tajik campaign throughout Russia when a Russian pilot together with his Estonian counterpart was jailed for 8.5 years in Tajikistan for illegally crossing the border and smuggling. The subsequent prosecution of Tajiks in Russia was so severe that it reached a ridiculous point with Russia’s chief medical officer questioning if Tajiks were spreading HIV. Moscow stopped issuing work permits to Tajik citizens; 300 Tajik migrant workers were detained and 60 were deported.

Central Asian migrant workers have always faced racism and discrimination in many forms both by law enforcement and ordinary Russian citizens. A recent poll among Russians showed that 56 percent of respondents preferred Central Asian migrants only with temporary residency or preferred closing the borders to them entirely.

Now Russian officials are purposefully targeting migrants and talking about “lightening” (that is, whitening) Russian territories “so that it is not darkened, so to speak, by foreign citizens.” This past summer, Chairman of the Investigative Committee of Russia Alexander Bastrykin even said that “the number of serious crimes committed by migrants in Russia has increased by 32 percent,” while Russia’s Ministry of Internal Affair reported that foreigners are responsible for only 4 percent of all crimes, mostly nonviolent ones such as forging documents or crossing the border illegally.

So far Moscow has issued six bills this year in regard to its migration policy, and 28 more are set to be reviewed by the State Duma.

Pandemic-related restrictions; the war with Ukraine, for which Moscow wanted to deploy migrants by hook or by crook; the Crocus City Hall terrorist attack, after which every Central Asian migrant worker has been treated as a potential terrorist; and low wages and decades of discrimination all have made Russia an undesirable destination for work or study. 

Uzbekistan has been actively facilitating job opportunities for its citizens in various European countries, as well as in South Korea and the United Kingdom. Those destinations are attracting other Central Asian migrant workers too, although Russia still remains a major destination due to factors like its visa-free regime, established migrant communities that provide support for newcomers, and the widespread familiarity with, if not fluency, in the Russian language among Central Asians. 

Anti-migrant sentiment has always been present in Russia, but it was primarily seen among the public rather than espoused by state officials. Temur Umarov, an analyst at Carnegie Berlin, explained it with the impact of the Russia-Ukraine war. “The invasion of Ukraine has normalized a much higher level of cruelty and aggression in Russia,” Umarov wrote. “Many ultra-patriots, Z-bloggers, neo-Nazis, war correspondents, and other media figures have risen on this military wave, making xenophobic and hateful statements, including against migrants, a commonplace occurrence.” 

Russian public figures may indeed be tapping into anti-migrant sentiment as a way to rally public support by channeling frustrations toward migrant communities. Media representatives, politicians, and other public figures may score points among their compatriots by playing to emotions and distorting facts. However, in the long run, this risks Russia losing more of its workforce and, even more critically, damaging its amicable relations with Central Asia – a region that, unlike Western nations, maintained its ties with Moscow after its full-scale invasion of Ukraine and kept visa-free entry for millions of Russians fleeing the war.