CAP WORKING PAPER by Sebastien Peyrouse, April 2, 2026
Sebastien Peyrouse is the Director of the Central Asia Program and a Research Professor in the Institute for European, Russian and Eurasian Studies at The George Washington University. He is also an EUCAM (Europe-Central Asia Monitoring) associate researcher and member of Crude Accountability’s board of directors. He worked five years in Central Asia, at the French Institute for Central Asian Studies in Tashkent, Uzbekistan (1998-2000, 2002-2005), and was Research Fellow at Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars, Washington D.C. (October 2006-June 2007), and at the Central Asia and Caucasus Institute (SAIS, Johns Hopkins University (2007- 2010). His main areas of expertise are political systems in Central Asia, economic and social issues, Islam and religious minorities, and Central Asia’s geopolitical positioning toward China, India and South Asia. He has authored or co-authored several books on Central Asia and published many articles, including in Europe Asia Studies; Nationalities Papers; China Perspectives; Religion, State & Society; and Journal of Church and State.
Policy context and problem statement
Civil society across Central Asia is confronting unprecedented challenges. More than 30 years after independence, initial expectations of gradual liberalization have not materialized. Instead, governments in the region have increased their repression of civil society, particularly over the past several years, through means such as so-called foreign agent laws, burdensome registration and administrative regulations, closures of media outlets and non-governmental organizations (NGOs), and the targeting of human rights activists, bloggers, and critics. Across the region, an expanding architecture of repression has progressively narrowed the boundaries of permissible civic activity, often in the name of stability and national security. Even Kyrgyzstan, once portrayed as an island of pluralism in a sea of autocracy, has dismantled many of the civic freedoms that previously distinguished it from its neighbors.
This domestic erosion has been compounded by an external retreat. The progressive withdrawal of Western engagement, culminating in the termination of the US Agency for International Development’s (USAID) operations, has further weakened these already fragile civic ecosystems. USAID remained one of the few sources of sustained support for independent initiatives in a region where alternatives were scarce. Its closure has therefore accelerated the isolation of civil society actors and left a vacuum increasingly being filled by Russia and China. Both powers have used funding channels, partnership frameworks, and normative influence to promote models of civic activity that subordinate societal participation to state priorities and narratives, further constraining the prospects for independent civic activity.
Many independent organizations and media outlets have signaled that, facing growing repression and a lack of funding, they may be forced to close. Some have had to go into exile. At this critical juncture, democratic donors, especially from the United States and Europe, must draw lessons from past shortcomings and re-engage meaningfully with Central Asia’s civic actors. Western funders have played an important role in supporting the emergence of a free civil society in Central Asia. Organizations such as USAID, the European Union, foreign embassies, the Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe (OSCE), and other bilateral and multilateral donors have provided technical assistance, core program funding, training opportunities, and platforms for dialogue on democratic governance and human rights. Their support has contributed to the professionalization of civil society organizations (CSOs) and the development of independent media. However, despite these sustained efforts, the sustainability of civil society in the region remains limited. Even before the recent funding cuts and shrinking of civic space, local civil society had criticized the modes of foreign funders’ engagement as being sometimes disconnected from realities on the ground and for relying on funding models that did not sufficiently engage local partners.
In addition, both international actors and governments in the region appear to be downplaying the importance of independent civil society. Fostering independent civil society constitutes a cornerstone of many countries’ international commitments, particularly those articulated within the OSCE and other multilateral frameworks, to which all Central Asian states are parties. By dismantling civic freedoms, these regimes violate their own obligations and undermine the very legitimacy they seek to preserve. The November 2025 Trump-Central Asia summit in Washington, DC, illustrated a shift toward prioritizing transactional economic relations rather than the longstanding prior focus on democratization and the promotion of human rights in the region. Moreover, the erosion of civil society represents a developmental concern in that it may actually erode economic and social stability. Repression and corruption have resulted in violence in the region. In 2022 Kazakhstan, the Karakalpakstan region of Uzbekistan, and the Pamir region of Tajikistan saw unrest fueled by resentment from populations denied meaningful participation in decision-making, including through an autonomous civil society.
As a result, Western donors should reconsider their modes of engagement. While local actors have often criticized donor practices for being top-down or externally driven, these critiques are not signs of cynicism but valuable calls for recalibration. They offer an opportunity to rethink international assistance in ways that are locally grounded, mutually accountable, and responsive to structural asymmetries.
This analysis draws on more than one hundred interviews conducted across the five republics over the past three years. Although most interlocutors focused on USAID, discussions also explored the engagement of multiple international funders. This focus reflects both USAID’s historical prominence and the fact that its methods, strengths, and shortcomings often resembled those of other Western donors, despite notable differences. Centering USAID here is not meant to single it out, but rather to use it as a prism for broader reflection, offering insights and suggestions for revising Western engagement now that its departure has left a void. Turkmenistan, however, was not included in this study, given its specific context of extreme authoritarianism, where the absence of even minimal autonomous civic space renders comparative analysis of donor engagement largely inapplicable.
While the insights drawn from these interviews do not claim to represent the majority of the population, they carry particular significance in an authoritarian context. The individuals who agreed to speak did so in environments where the expression of dissent or even mild criticism may entail real personal risk. Their voices, therefore, are not merely individual testimonies but reflections of a broader, often silent segment of society, those who share similar concerns and aspirations yet remain constrained by fear. At a time when civil society is under sustained pressure and the broader architecture of human rights is eroding, such expressions of candor acquire exceptional value. I wish to express my deep gratitude to all interviewees for their courage and generosity in sharing their experiences, apprehensions, and hopes. For reasons of security, all interviews have been anonymized.
Authoritarian Legalism and the Architecture of Civil Society Control in Central Asia
Central Asian governments have consistently framed civil society as a partner in national modernization, social development, and international cooperation. Since independence, constitutional texts, national development strategies, and presidential policy documents have become embedded vocabulary about participation, consultation, and public accountability. Kazakhstan’s Civil Society Development Concept, renewed in 2020, is presented as a blueprint for institutionalizing dialogue. 1 Uzbekistan’s reform agenda, expressed through presidential decrees, the 2021–2025 Concept for Civil Society Development, the New Uzbekistan strategy, and the 2030 Strategy, signals openness to reducing administrative barriers and expanding opportunities for civic actors.2 Kyrgyzstan has frequently invoked its large number of registered CSOs and its 2014 law on public councils as evidence of participatory governance.3 Tajikistan’s post-conflict narrative has portrayed civil society as an essential component of reconstruction and stability, a framing that resurfaced during the covid pandemic when NGOs and volunteers were recognized, at least rhetorically, as indispensable humanitarian partners.4
Beyond these official legislative frameworks and statements, consultation platforms have multiplied alongside newly created civil society organizations. Kazakhstan’s National Council of Public Trust, and its successor, the National Kurultai, are emblematic. Domestically, they are designed to create visibility and to stage the appearance of dialogue. 5 At the international level, they help reassure donors and multilateral institutions that the country is moving toward a rule-of-law model in which civic participation is integrated into policymaking, thereby encouraging external partners to view grants and programs as supporting genuine reform trajectories.
Beneath this official openness and this common lexicon of partnership lies, however, a consistent logic of authoritarianism and paternalism. As interviewees consistently noted, consultation platforms function mainly as mechanisms for transmitting information upward and legitimizing pre-determined decisions, rather than allowing civil society to actually shape outcomes. Civil society’s proposals rarely surface in final policies and legislation. Across the region, interviewees said their governments accept the language of civil society, but not the principle of civic autonomy. Participation is welcome when it takes the form of petitioning, consultation, and service delivery; it becomes suspect when it involves independent agenda-setting, constituency mobilization, or public scrutiny of state decisions.
Kazakhstan’s “Listening State” formula has illustrated this duality.6 Although government reforms announced in 2022 promised a shift toward a more responsive government, the decision-making structure has remained executive-centered and civil society operates under the assumption that it may propose ideas, but the state retains full discretion to ignore them.7 While civil society is typically expected to play a central role in addressing social and economic grievances, in Uzbekistan this role has been largely displaced by presidential complaint platforms. These channels cultivate the belief that meaningful redress depends not on autonomous civic organization but on direct petitions to the president, reinforcing an image of the leader as an all-powerful arbiter capable of resolving virtually any problem. In Kyrgyzstan, the 2021 constitutional amendments enshrined vague references to “moral values,” while the adoption of a Russian-style “foreign agents” law recast foreign funding as political subversion. In Tajikistan, the state civil society cooperation that emerged during post-civil war reconstruction period has, over time, given way to a system of total oversight, in which independent associational activity is perceived as a security threat to the regime.8
Regulation as Leverage: Registration, Finance, and the Managed Autonomy of CSOs
The core instrument of this model of constrained participation is administrative containment, beginning with mandatory registration. In all Central Asian states, an organization’s legal ability to operate depends on formal registration; unregistered activity is treated as a legal violation in and of itself. While officials have presented registration as a neutral mechanism to ensure public accountability, the system is designed to generate uncertainty and dependence. Regulatory provisions are fragmented across multiple legislative acts and bureaucratic regulations. Approval requires sequential reviews by agencies that lack political independence, and even full compliance offers no guarantee of acceptance. In Uzbekistan, interviewees noted that despite the rapid modification of more than 200 laws, the Ministry of Justice continued to deny registration to independent organizations by repeatedly returning applications on minor or ambiguous technical grounds. “Expert examinations,” carried out by quasi-governmental bodies and often conducted by regime-aligned actors rather than independent specialists, serve as politicized filters, especially against organizations working on sensitive issues such as human rights. Overall, registering an NGO in Uzbekistan has become increasingly challenging, necessitating personal connections with high-ranking officials at the Ministry of Justice. Interviews indicated that administrative staff were often reluctant to try to register NGOs due to concerns over potential backlash should these NGOs later express criticism of the government.
Kazakhstan has achieved similar effects through different legal pathways. The Law on Public Associations does not formally restrict organizations to working in a specific region, yet enforcement practices do so. Article 489 of the Administrative Code allows authorities to sanction even minor deviations from chartered objectives or geographic scope. The result is self-constraining behavior: organizations narrow their thematic and geographic focus to minimize the possibility of punishment. Tajikistan’s 2009 law on the registration of legal entities extends state oversight further. Ministries may demand internal documentation, attend internal meetings, and scrutinize funding arrangements. Amendments in 2019 have since required organizations to maintain their own websites or publish their information on the Ministry of Justice’s website.9
Once NGOs are registered, financial regulation creates a second layer of containment. Transparency requirements are framed as technical oversight but operate as discretionary levers of control. In Uzbekistan, state-managed funding mechanisms, combined with the dominant role of the National Association of NGOs (NANNOUz), channel grants toward compliant actors, including Government-Organized Non-Governmental Organizations, or GONGOs.10 A 2023 regulation nominally speeds up foreign grant approvals but conditions larger projects on partnerships with approved organizations, effectively steering resources through vetted intermediaries. Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan impose similarly dense financial reporting requirements. Kazakhstan requires detailed annual declarations of income, assets, and expenditures, while Kyrgyzstan has introduced continual reporting obligations. 11 These mechanisms generate vulnerabilities that can be activated retroactively. When Kazakhstan fined and temporarily suspended several human rights organizations in 2021 on the basis of alleged accounting inaccuracies, the episode signaled that full compliance is structurally unattainable and that any organization may be rendered in violation at the discretion of the authorities.12 Kyrgyzstan’s 2024 “foreign representatives” law formalizes this leverage by empowering authorities to suspend activities and bank accounts, and ultimately dissolve noncompliant organizations. Even before its implementation, NGOs began to self-restrict, underscoring that the threat of sanction can be as effective as sanction itself.13
The Convergence of Security Policy and Information Control
Where administrative containment is insufficient, governments rely on a narrative of protecting security. Across the region, counter-terrorism and counter-extremism laws are drafted with broad language, such that they can erase the boundary between civic activism and public threat. Kazakhstan’s 2009 law on combating money laundering pairs “extremism” with “terrorism.” This conflation permits the state to control not only individuals and groups suspected of violent activity, but also organizations and activists engaged in legitimate civic advocacy that authorities choose to label as “extremist.”14 Following the unrest in Kazakhstan in January 2022, authorities labeled protesters “terrorists,” a framing used to justify the use of lethal force, mass detentions, and bans on vaguely-defined “social activity,” a category the country’s courts have interpreted to include online expression and participation in organizations. 15 Kyrgyzstan’s 2023 extremism legislation criminalizes speech that may appear to legitimize extremist goals, terms left undefined, allowing authorities to equate civic expression with extremism.16 In Uzbekistan, amendments to the Criminal Code now penalize not only participation in protests but also preparation and organization, enabling authorities to classify ordinary mobilization as “mass disorder.”17 The aftermath of the 2022 Karakalpakstan protests illustrated the consequences: dozens were prosecuted for “organizing mass unrest,” and a civic group advocating regional rights was designated extremist. In Tajikistan, counter extremism laws form the legal backbone for eliminating opposition and disciplining independent media. A security narrative has been used to delegitimize entire civic ecosystems, as exemplified by the banning of the Islamic Renaissance Party in 2015 and the dismantling of many civil society organizations in the eastern Gorno-Badakhshan region in 2022.
These restrictions are reinforced by pervasive control over assembly, communication, and information. Uzbekistan requires advance notification for events and the reporting of foreign visitors, granting authorities the power to pre-empt programming. Tajikistan employs less formal but equally intrusive methods, with ministries attending internal meetings, signaling that prior consent is expected even when not legally required.18 In Kazakhstan, the 2020 Law on Freedom of Assembly was promoted as liberalization, but it still includes requirements for prior approval and confines protests to government designated locations.19 Kyrgyzstan’s 2021 Law on Protection from Inaccurate Information authorizes rapid takedowns of online content without judicial review, as well as the blocking of media outlets, as happened to Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty in 2023, illustrating how information regulation doubles as political control. 20 Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan are refining accreditation and platform regulation frameworks that allow authorities to deny access, revoke media accreditation, or engage in content removal.21 Tajikistan represents the endpoint of these dynamics: independent media have largely disappeared, opposition websites are blocked, and independent journalists face prosecution under treason or extremism charges.22
Narrative Warfare and the Shrinking of Civic Space
Delegitimization completes the architecture of containment. Russian-origin narratives about “traditional values,” “sovereign democracy,” and “Western interference” are amplified by state media across the region, recasting human rights and civic activism as foreign impositions. The term “NGO” has acquired a pejorative tone, particularly outside major cities, creating social penalties for civic engagement. Suspicion toward “foreign funded organizations” results in delays in registration, aggressive auditing, and the rejection of applications. As the social costs of participation rise, the number of actors willing to take risks decreases.23
The effect is measurable. The abundance of NGOs conceals their limited autonomy. Governments cite large numbers (over 22,000 NGOs in Kazakhstan, more than 10,000 in Uzbekistan, around 2,000 in Tajikistan), but these numbers include GONGOs, subsidiaries of state-affiliated organizations, and inactive organizations.24 In Tajikistan, more than half of registered NGOs are reportedly inactive.25 In 2023, the Ministry of Justice reported the dissolution of more than 700 organizations, many unrelated to political activity. 26 Transnational repression reinforces this trajectory: Tajikistani authorities have pursued activists abroad through Interpol red notice abuse, abductions, and coercive returns.27 Those who flee remain vulnerable through pressure on family members, while those who travel internationally face surveillance and intimidation at multilateral forums.
Taken together, the regional pattern reflects a mature form of authoritarian legalism. Governments replicate the visible infrastructure of civil society, strategies, consultation councils, petition portals, and large NGO registries, while constructing legal, administrative, financial, informational, and security constraints that keep independent actors under control. Civil society is tolerated, but on restrictive terms defined by the state. Participation is permitted, but influence is contained. This has led to mounting pressure on activists, whose activities are now constrained both by direct repression from the authorities and by a growing climate of fear that discourages many from engaging in areas frowned upon by political leaders.
The Engagement of Foreign Donors in supporting a Free Civil Society
How external partners interpret and respond to these conditions will determine whether their engagement fosters, or not, local organizations’ autonomy. This section examines how international partners, with a focus on USAID, have engaged in promoting civil society development across the region and how their involvement has been perceived by local activists. It explores both the intentions behind Western support and the ways in which these efforts are understood on the ground.
Aid That Helps, but Does Not Liberate
In every country, interviewees acknowledged USAID’s long-standing presence and the positive effects of its sectoral initiatives in health, education, gender equality, and local development. Yet these acknowledgements were almost always followed by criticism of the gap between USAID’s stated mission to promote democratic governance and its actual practice on the ground. According to most interviewees, USAID had increasingly favored activities that aligned with state-defined development priorities such as social welfare, environmental protection, and business climate reform, while steering clear of themes considered politically sensitive by local authorities.
In Kazakhstan, they highlighted USAID’s substantial involvement in the health and social sectors, from infectious disease control to gender equality and the prevention of violent extremism. While these initiatives were recognized as valuable for citizens’ well-being, activists consistently said that these programs were doing little to strengthen civic agency or expand the autonomous public sphere. Many underscored a deeper paradox: they believed that the government’s openness to foreign assistance in social policy was part of a deliberate strategy to depoliticize civil society by confining it to service delivery. As several interlocutors observed, many foreign stakeholders contributed to blurring the line between social development and civil society development, mistaking support for social programs for support of independent political participation.
This confusion was equally visible in Tajikistan, where USAID and other donors have concentrated their activities on themes that could be publicly justified to the authorities, such as women’s empowerment or anti-torture initiatives, while largely avoiding direct engagement with more sensitive issues such as restrictions on freedom of expression and assembly, repression or political prisoners. Activists in Dushanbe acknowledged that these programs brought tangible benefits, including some cooperation with ministries and local administrations, but they emphasized that such cooperation may have come at the cost of undermining criticism and normalizing authoritarian governance. A similar pattern emerged in Kyrgyzstan and Uzbekistan, albeit with varying degrees of government coercion. In Kyrgyzstan, USAID’s cautious approach was interpreted as a sign of declining ambition, a sense that after two decades of engagement, democracy promotion had become secondary to maintaining smooth relations with the government and preserving operational continuity. In Uzbekistan, they believed that the same accommodationist logic led USAID to partner with government-approved organizations and participate in events that, according to local activists, served mainly to promote an image of reform rather than to empower civic actors.28 An example was the civil society conference held in Samarkand, formally organized by the Konrad Adenauer Foundation but widely perceived by local actors as orchestrated by the Uzbek government to project an overly positive picture of domestic reforms. Participant selection at such events was reported to be highly controlled, with limited space for independent voices. As reported by an activist, local activists felt unable to speak freely; official conferences were under strict surveillance by security forces, which deterred some individuals from attending, and there were instances of microphones being cut off during speeches criticizing the government. Such events risked legitimizing government narratives rather than fostering genuine dialogue with civil society, and they underscored the need for international partners to ensure that engagement mechanisms are inclusive, safe, and not misused to marginalize independent actors.
Taken together, these experiences portrayed a donor community that has internalized the region’s authoritarian boundaries. Whether through self-censorship, risk aversion, or strategic pragmatism, local stakeholders believed that USAID had gradually redefined itself from a political actor committed to democratic transition into a technical agency for social modernization. This shift, while often justified as realism, was perceived by local CSOs as a retreat from the core principles of civil empowerment.
Selecting Local Partners: GONGOs, Gatekeepers, and the Shrinking Civic Space
The question of partner selection lies at the heart of USAID’s perceived limitations. Across all four countries, activists underlined the structural challenge of identifying local counterparts who were both capable of meeting complex administrative requirements and independent enough to engage critically with the state. USAID’s response has been to rely on a small circle of trusted intermediaries, including international implementing contractors and large local NGOs with established reporting capacity. This model had the advantage of minimizing administrative risk, particularly in a region where corruption was endemic. However, it also led to a concentration of funding among a small number of actors and, in many cases, encouraged partnerships with government-organized NGOs (GONGOs) that reinforced official narratives of reform and stability rather than independent civic oversight.
In Kazakhstan, this dynamic was particularly visible in USAID’s cooperation with entities such as Argo, an organization that presented itself as a hub for civil society development but has been widely regarded by independent activists as an instrument of government influence. Interviewees described how Argo and similar bodies occupied a privileged position within donor networks, channeling funds toward government-approved projects. The outcome, according to several respondents, has been a bifurcated civil society sector: a well-funded, government-aligned stratum of “professional NGOs” managing international projects and echoing official rhetoric, and a marginalized layer of independent groups struggling to survive without access to meaningful support.
A similar pattern emerged in Uzbekistan, where reliance on GONGOs by some donors reportedly enabled the government to convert foreign aid into a source of legitimacy. The Yuksalikh Movement illustrated this mechanism: while officially presented as a platform for civic dialogue, it operated under close supervision of the presidential administration. Foreign funders, by partnering with such structures, inadvertently sustained the illusion of a vibrant civil society while reinforcing state control over the sector. Uzbekistani activists described this process as a theft of prestige, a dynamic in which donor resources and visibility were appropriated to enhance the regime’s image both domestically and abroad.
In Tajikistan, the problem of partner selection has been even more tightly constrained by law. Since all foreign-funded projects must obtain government approval, and since many registered NGOs are GONGOs, foreign funders’ room for maneuver has been minimal. Several Tajik activists acknowledged that, under such conditions, engagement with GONGOs may have been the only viable entry point for foreign engagement, yet they warned that this practice entrenched dependency and legitimized authoritarian governance. For them, the key question was not whether to work with GONGOs, but how to prevent such partnerships from turning donors into instruments of the regime.
Kyrgyzstan represented a partial exception, as its civil society landscape remained more pluralistic than that of its neighbors. However, local activists criticized USAID for reproducing the same pattern of concentration through long-term partnerships with a small number of large NGOs and international implementers. Smaller organizations, especially those outside Bishkek, struggled to access funding, not because of political obstruction but because of foreign funders’ bureaucratic preferences, which favored working with organizations already familiar with Western accounting and reporting practices. Moreover, most major funding opportunities required applications in English, a language that remains widely inaccessible in the country. Even Russian proficiency has declined significantly, making it increasingly difficult for local activists to compete for funding. The outcome, as one Kyrgyz CSO put it, was that “those who know how to write in English and manage the paperwork get the grants; those who work with people get ignored.”
Across the region, the narrow pool of partners has produced what activists describe as a “closed ecosystem,” where a limited number of organizations circulated among the same donors. This dynamic fueled frustration among smaller CSOs, reinforced perception that USAID prioritized loyalty and visibility over independence and impact, and deepened the gap between donors and grassroots actors.
Disconnect and Donor Insularity
A pervasive theme across all four national contexts was the sense of distance between USAID and local civil society. Activists repeatedly described USAID as remote, bureaucratic, and difficult to approach. In Tajikistan, it was characterized as a “fortress,” inaccessible to smaller organizations and largely unresponsive to local initiatives. This perception was echoed in Kyrgyzstan, where CSOs complained that program priorities were often set in Washington or at the regional level rather than through consultation with national stakeholders. Even in Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan, where USAID maintained relatively extensive networks, interviewees criticized the agency’s limited understanding of local political and cultural contexts.
This disconnection manifested in several ways. First, it reflected linguistic and cultural barriers. In Uzbekistan, for example, most donor interactions occurred in Russian, excluding a large segment of potential partners who operated in Uzbek and lacked bilingual staff. In Kyrgyzstan, activists argued that USAID’s reliance on Russian-speaking urban elites prevented engagement with rural or Kyrgyz-speaking constituencies whose social conservatism and religious sensibilities were often dismissed as incompatible with Western values. Second, the disconnect was institutional. Many CSOs said that USAID’s field offices overly focused on compliance and reporting rather than dialogue or joint strategy formulation. Meetings with local partners tended to be limited to formal evaluations rather than substantive discussions about needs, risks, and political developments.
This sense of exclusion was compounded by the perception that USAID’s field staff were themselves constrained by bureaucratic imperatives. Activists in Tajikistan and Kazakhstan noted that local USAID representatives rarely had the authority to adjust program parameters or funding allocations in response to changing circumstances. As a result, projects remained tied to predetermined templates even when local realities evolved. Several interviewees also pointed out that the emphasis on visibility, through public events, reports, and social media output, made USAID and other funders more responsive to public relations considerations than to long-term political outcomes.
The combined effect of these dynamics has been a growing belief among civil society actors that donors speak “about” them rather than “with” them. This top-down mode of engagement has limited local ownership and undermined trust. In Uzbekistan, some activists described USAID’s presence as “touristic”: short visits by foreign representatives, describing them as tightly managed conferences, and superficial consultations that produced little understanding of local challenges. Similar concerns were voiced in Tajikistan, where several interviewees said consultation processes often functioned as symbolic gestures rather than meaningful participatory exercises. As one activist summarized, “They come, they listen, they write reports, and then they do what they already planned.”
Geography, Inequality, and the Urban Bias of Donor Engagement
Unequal geographical concentration of aid emerged as another consistent pattern across all four countries. USAID’s activities were overwhelmingly centered in capital cities and a few major urban areas. This concentration reflected both logistical constraints and political considerations: cities like Astana, Almaty, Bishkek, Dushanbe, and Tashkent offered better infrastructure, higher administrative capacity, and a denser NGO network. Yet, as activists emphasized, this urban bias left vast regions of each country outside the reach of donor engagement.
In Kazakhstan, local activists believed that USAID’s presence beyond the two main cities was minimal, and provincial programs focused primarily on socioeconomic development rather than civic empowerment. In Uzbekistan, donor projects have been perceived as concentrated in Tashkent and the Ferghana Valley, leaving western and southern regions with little exposure to international initiatives.29 In Tajikistan, security restrictions and administrative obstacles have made work in Badakhshan nearly impossible, while in Kyrgyzstan, local NGOs activists considered USAID’s regional projects have tended to emphasize service delivery rather than strengthening local governance or rights advocacy.30
This concentration has had several consequences. It reinforced the perception that civil society has been an elite, urban phenomenon disconnected from rural communities. It narrowed the social base of activism, as most active NGOs have been led by individuals educated abroad or in metropolitan universities. And it left unaddressed the grievances of peripheral populations who were often most affected by governance failures and corruption. Interviewees in all four countries argued that USAID’s limited regional outreach undermined both the sustainability and inclusivity of civil society. Without a deliberate effort to decentralize engagement, they warned, donor programs risk perpetuating the very inequalities that authoritarian regimes exploit to consolidate control.
The Funding Conundrum and Its Structural Effects
The majority of CSOs in Central Asia face significant funding challenges. Combined with increasingly restrictive legislation on foreign financing, this situation poses a direct threat to their long-term sustainability. Although governments publicly claim to support the development of civil society, state funding remains minimal. Unsurprisingly, many CSOs view their government funding initiatives not as genuine support, but as mechanisms for state control and censorship. Interviewees reported instances in which governments selectively financed only those organizations working on issues aligned with official priorities, while neglecting or marginalizing those addressing more sensitive or critical topics.
Funding from businesses and the private sector has also remained limited across the region. Moreover, difficult economic and social conditions have hindered the growth of domestic philanthropy. While CSOs are legally permitted to conduct economic activities, for example, through the sale of goods or services, the associated income is not tax exempt unless the organization holds charitable status, which is difficult to obtain and maintain due to strict regulatory requirements. In this context, for the vast majority of CSOs, maintaining independence and sustaining operations, particularly in the human rights field, depends heavily on access to foreign funding.
The way USAID allocated and managed funding emerged as a central concern for activists across the region. The problem, they stressed, was less the overall amount of funds, though many lamented its decline, but rather the distribution of and conditionality attached to them.
In Kazakhstan, interviewees noted that substantial portions of USAID’s civil society budget were absorbed by large intermediaries such as the Eurasia Foundation, Counterpart International, or the American Bar Association. These organizations, they argued, retained significant overhead and subcontracted only small amounts to local partners, leaving most CSOs with little access to direct support. Tajik activists reported a similar pattern, compounded by the scarcity of donors and the government’s control over all foreign funding flows. In Kyrgyzstan, the challenge stemmed less from state interference than from donor design: many grants were awarded through competitive tenders requiring technical and linguistic skills that smaller CSOs generally lacked.31
Funders were also criticized for not adequately accounting for the time and financial burden associated with fulfilling accounting and reporting requirements. Many CSOs, particularly smaller organizations, noted that preparing programmatic and financial reports consumed more than half of their working time. They stressed the need for donors to provide dedicated resources that allow them to hire administrative staff, thereby freeing program staff to focus on actual project implementation. In addition, some donors required CSOs to submit official audit reports, which were prohibitively expensive for smaller groups. Several organizations also highlighted that donor budgets often failed to account for the taxes that NGOs were required to pay, creating an additional financial strain that was rarely recognized or reimbursed.32
Another recurrent concern was the short-term and procedurally complex nature of USAID funding. Across Kazakhstan and the region, most USAID-supported projects lasted only one or two years, with limited prospects for renewal or institutional continuation. This short horizon prevented NGOs from building stable teams, retaining skilled staff, or pursuing long-term strategies. Overall, many CSOs interviewed expressed concern about the limited capacity of CSOs.33 As stated by a USAID staffer, CSOs were still carrying the suitcases from the 1990s and the beginning of the 2000s with the same projects and approaches, meaning that they often still proposed the same topics as twenty years ago and just changed the titles on applications for different grants. Interviewees stressed that there was an urgent need to improve CSOs’ capacity and help them to be more analytical and inventive.
The resulting instability has fostered instrumentalism and opportunism: organizations tailored their activities to donor priorities rather than to the needs of their communities.
As a result, some CSOs reported that the lack of funding ironically resulted in a multiplication of ever smaller CSOs, many created by a group of friends, colleagues or members of the same family that split themselves into smaller CSOs in hopes of increasing their chances of receiving funding. Most did not recruit new volunteers to avoid having to divide potential funding. As one Kazakh interviewee put it, civil society became a “grant economy,” where survival depended less on community engagement than on anticipating the next call for proposals. Moreover, the bureaucratic complexity of U.S. financial and narrative reporting requirements deterred smaller organizations from applying. CSOs noted that compliance costs and audit risks often outweighed the potential benefits. This dynamic privileged well-established, donor-literate NGOs, often located in capital cities, while excluding grassroots actors who lacked the administrative capacity to meet detailed procurement, auditing, and monitoring requirements. The cumulative effect was a donor driven ecosystem that reproduced dependence and limited the emergence of autonomous, locally embedded civil society.
These structural barriers carry political implications. Privileging administrative efficiency and risk management over inclusivity and local ownership has fueled cynicism among activists who increasingly viewed foreign aid as a closed system serving a narrow set of actors. Several interviewees went further, arguing that this environment eroded solidarity among NGOs. As reported by several interviewees, the lack of funding has led to an unhealthy atmosphere of aggressivity among CSOs, fostering mistrust and fragmentation. Rather, it has contributed to pushing CSOs that were supposedly committed to human rights toward a strictly business-oriented approach, encouraging them to choose topics primarily designed to attract the attention and meet the expectations of major funders rather than to address real needs on the ground.
Lastly and importantly, many respondents highlighted an emerging generational gap within civil society. According to them, while the first post-Soviet generation benefited from early investments in democratic education and civic participation, the past two decades have seen a sharp decline in such support. A combination of donor withdrawal, shrinking funding, and an overly neutral approach to civil society development has weakened young people’s understanding of democracy, the role of civic organizations, and the skills needed for CSO management. As a result, newer CSO staff have been increasingly reluctant to engage on human rights and politically sensitive issues, a shift that risks leaving civil society without the next generation of principled defenders.
This generational erosion has been compounded by widespread fatigue and discouragement among existing activists who face mounting political pressure, low salaries, and limited institutional support. Local CSOs emphasized the urgent need to revitalize public understanding of human rights, freedom of expression, and independent civic participation. Across the region, activists warned that the lack of sustained and strategic funding was itself accelerating burnout. Increasing numbers of CSOs remained formally registered but inactive, a clear signal that without renewed and targeted support, civil society faced the risk of long-term attrition. For donors committed to free and plural civic space in Central Asia, investment in the next generation of civic leadership, alongside tangible protection for those already on the front lines, was not simply desirable but necessary to prevent further democratic backsliding. They called on international donors to reinvest in the sector by strengthening the capacity of CSOs to conduct human rights research, lead advocacy efforts, and protect human rights defenders, including through legal assistance when facing criminal investigations.
Conclusion: Why a Free Civil Society Cannot Be Deferred
Across Central Asia, the architecture of control over civil society has evolved into a sophisticated system of authoritarian legalism, one that has simulated openness while constraining independence. Administrative regulation, financial oversight, information control, and ideological framing have fused into an environment where civic participation is legally permissible but politically defanged. International donors have often adjusted to these constraints rather than confronted them, favoring managerial reforms and short term development projects over the defense of civic freedoms. In doing so, they have inadvertently reinforced the very structures of accommodation that have sustained authoritarian resilience. The resulting landscape is one in which civic space contracts not only through repression, but also through the gradual internalization of limits, by governments that police participation, and by foreign partners that have learned to operate within those boundaries rather than question them.
Nonetheless, independent civil society has not disappeared. Across the region, individuals and organizations continue to monitor abuses, litigate cases, and assist vulnerable groups, often at personal risk. Yet their persistence should not obscure the profound structural asymmetries they face. Meaningful progress in Central Asian countries will not come from publishing another strategy or establishing yet another council, but from reducing procedural arbitrariness, enabling regional operation, de-securitizing assembly and expression by ending their routine treatment as threats to state stability, and rebuilding trust between independent civic actors and the societies they serve. Until these shifts occur, the region’s narrative of openness will remain a curated façade over an architecture designed to control.
This entrenchment of managed participation feeds into a broader narrative, shared, albeit for different reasons, by local regimes and some of their Western interlocutors, that the region is “not ready” for or incompatible with democracy. This narrative, which has portrayed democracy as a distant aspiration or prioritized economic development or the “rule of law” as supposedly safer, more pragmatic objectives, has become a convenient justification for political stagnation. Authoritarian leaders have invoked it to legitimize their concentration of power and suppression of dissent, while some Western donors have embraced it to rationalize avoiding the politically sensitive work of supporting civic freedoms. The result is a discourse of gradualism that masks a profound contradiction: the rule of law cannot exist without a free and independent civil society capable of holding power to account. Law divorced from civic participation is an instrument of control, not a framework of justice. What emerges instead is a hollow stability, in which legality serves authority rather than restraining it.
The argument that democracy threatens stability and could provoke chaos in Central Asia has long served as a convenient fiction, one that has conflated regime survival with national stability, and thus mistaken the longevity of political elites for the resilience of states. In practice, the “stability first” doctrine has never protected Central Asian societies from disorder; it has shielded the political and economic interests of ruling circles whose legitimacy has rested on control, not from consent. These regimes, often celebrated by sympathetic analysts for their supposed pragmatism, are in fact organized around a logic of neopatrimonialism, in which elite loyalty is purchased through access to rents, often derived from extractive resources, and power is sustained through their selective distribution. Under such conditions, the rhetoric of “gradual reform” or “managed democratization” functions as a defensive strategy to preserve elite interests, not as a genuine path toward institutional maturity. What stability truly exists under such circumstances is brittle, dependent on repression, co-optation, and the suppression of the very civic energies that could make governance truly resilient and legitimate.
The related belief that economic development should precede or substitute for political liberalization is equally flawed. From this perspective, “development” becomes synonymous with elite preservation rather than public empowerment. Political economic research, from rentier state theory to contemporary analyses of resource governance, has shown that in systems dominated by income from extractive industry, whether from oil, gas, or mineral wealth, economic growth without political accountability tends to entrench rather than alleviate inequality.34 The promise that sectoral modernization will eventually “trickle down” to the broader population collapses when the mechanisms of redistribution are controlled by corrupt, nontransparent, and unaccountable elites. Without independent civil society organizations to monitor state budgets, scrutinize contracts, and voice demands for equity, development remains an elite project, measured by GDP and infrastructure, but not by justice or opportunity. The absence of countervailing institutions does not produce stability; it produces stagnation disguised as order. It reproduces a cycle in which public goods are privatized, and large segments of the population are excluded from the benefits of their own national wealth.
Finally, equally untenable is the oft-invoked historical relativism that excuses authoritarian persistence by invoking Europe’s centuries-long path to democracy. Such reasoning, cloaked in cultural modesty, is in fact steeped in paternalism. To argue that Central Asian societies are inherently incapable of faster democratic evolution is not an expression of humility, it is an act of arrogance. It denies these societies the agency that modernity has granted to others and transforms political inequality into cultural destiny. The experience of the Baltic states and other East European countries over the past half century has demonstrated that transitions to more open, accountable, and participatory governance can occur rapidly when citizens are granted the institutional and discursive space to organize, deliberate and participate. Civil society, independent media, and political pluralism are not luxuries of mature democracies; they are the engines of transformation that make democratization possible in the first place.
Calls for “patience” and “stability” have therefore served as rhetorical devices that absolve both domestic elites and their external partners of responsibility. Development without accountability is less progress, but rather a reconfiguration of privilege. And the argument that democracy must wait until societies are “ready” ensures that they never will be. True stability in Central Asia will not be achieved by protecting regimes from their citizens, but by empowering citizens to hold their regimes to account.
At this critical juncture, democratic donors, especially from the United States and Europe, should draw lessons from past shortcomings to reengage more meaningfully with Central Asia’s civic actors. They should not disengage or confine their cooperation to “technical” sectors in the name of pragmatism. Domestic authoritarianism is increasing, Russia and China are expanding their normative influence, and global illiberalism is accelerating. It is precisely in such times that principled engagement matters most.
Human rights, civic participation, and the rule of law are not Western inventions, as Vladimir Putin, Xi Jinping, and other autocrats claim, they are universal principles enshrined in the very international norms and commitments that these same states voluntarily endorsed. Reasserting their universality is essential to countering the narrative that equates authoritarian control with cultural authenticity. Supporting independent voices, protecting civic space, and ensuring that the rule of law remains inseparable from democratic accountability are strategic imperatives. A renewed, locally grounded Western engagement is essential to help Central Asia avoid becoming a laboratory for authoritarian consolidation, and instead achieve its potential as a region of innovation, pluralism, and genuine stability.
Recommendations
The dilemma facing donors supporting independent civil society in Central Asia is not new, but it has become more acute as authoritarian consolidation has deepened and funding from democratic countries has declined. Against this backdrop, the recommendations that follow reflect the views of local activists who called for a recalibration of donor priorities and methods that would support civic agency alongside development objectives rather than allowing external assistance to be limited by the very structures it seeks to counterbalance.
This section is, however, not intended to downplay the contributions of USAID and other international donors or to suggest that external actors have “done nothing” in the face of authoritarian consolidation. Local activists did not call for disengagement; on the contrary, they emphasized that withdrawal would create a vacuum that authoritarian actors would readily fill. Many interviewees stressed that Western partners have contributed to preserving pockets of civic autonomy and sustaining organizations that might otherwise have disappeared. The operating environment in Central Asia, defined by government regulation and surveillance makes the work of international development agencies exceptionally challenging. Any assessment of donor practice must therefore begin by recognizing these structural constraints.
Moreover, several of the developments highlighted in the recommendations are already emerging in practice: some donors are diversifying their partner networks, experimenting with more flexible funding models, and formalizing consultations with local actors. In some cases, however, these efforts are not recognized locally, not because they are absent, but because the rationale and objectives behind them have not been effectively communicated. This perceptual divide underscores the need for programmatic adjustment alongside more transparent and continuous dialogue between funders and their intended beneficiaries.
It is equally important to acknowledge that perspectives gathered for this study were not uniform. While broad patterns emerged across countries, activists disagreed on issues such as whether to engage with GONGOs, how publicly donors should position themselves, and how to balance social programming with rights-based advocacy. Not all interviewees would endorse every recommendation presented here. This diversity of views reflects the complexity of operating under authoritarian constraint, where strategies for survival and influence necessarily vary across contexts. The recommendations below should therefore not be interpreted as a single prescriptive model, but rather as a spectrum of possibilities that donors can explore, test, and adapt depending on country context, sector, and risk tolerance.
1. Adopt long-term strategies grounded in local realities
Donors need metrics that capture the practical realities of operating: real CSO registration timelines, the prevalence and content of rejections, the success rates of appeals, the geography of authorized assembly sites, the frequency and targeting of audits, the share of grants channeled through state-vetted intermediaries, and the structure of notification and pre-clearance requirements. Such indicators would offer a far more reliable picture of what civil society can actually do than general indicators such as whether a public council exists or digitalizing NGO services.
2. Foreign funders should increase funding for and augment their programs focused on civil society, human rights, and democratization
Reversing the recent decline in democracy- and rights-focused assistance is crucial to prevent further erosion of independent civic space. A renewed financial commitment should also be paired with clearer strategic intent. Assistance should explicitly aim to protect and expand civic space rather than to adapt to authoritarian boundaries. This requires donors to treat human rights and democratic participation as essential pillars of engagement, not as optional areas that can be sidelined when tensions arise with governments. Expanding funding in these domains is therefore not only a matter of sustaining organizations, but of maintaining the principles and incentives that enable civil society to play its core role of scrutiny, representation, and accountability.
3. Prevent GONGO dependence through broader local engagement
Foreign funders should increase the number and diversity of their local CSO partners. Although some local CSOs may receive funding through subgrantees, these amounts are small due to the limited budget of foreign funders devoted to civil society development and promoting human rights in Central Asia. This money that is passed down to local CSOs is further reduced by the significant overheads taken by the subgrantees.
CSOs interviewed considered that by working with only a limited number of partners and the same partners year after year, several foreign funders missed out much of the ground knowledge that is necessary for understanding and analyzing developments at the local level and which could help make its programs more effective and innovative. Increasing the number of partners would help foreign funders avoid working as much with groups considered to be GONGO mouthpieces of the government or with foreign subgrantees considered by local CSOs as not sufficiently connected to the reality on the ground.
One way to do this could be by working with several partners at the same time on the same project. It would be beneficial for foreign funders to cooperate with two or three CSOs at once, as they would be able to offer different approaches. This would also contribute to connecting weaker civil society organizations with stronger ones, increasing their training and capacity, and bringing new ideas and ways of implementing them. This could also help push those CSO more closely allied with the government towards being more independent.
This could also involve developing relationships with local organizations that may not necessarily be engaged in a specific project or funded by foreign funders, but that could bring knowledge and share their experience on the subject concerned. Several CSOs interviewed which work on human rights and civil society lamented they have not been consulted concerning foreign funder-led projects which they believe they could have helped to be more effectively framed and implemented.
4. Differentiate among GONGOs and engage strategically
Government-organized NGOs (GONGOs) are not a homogeneous group. Some, especially those sent to international conferences such as the OSCE Human Dimension Implementation Meeting or the UN Universal Periodic Review, have served primarily as platforms to promote the government’s narrative on human rights and to counter external criticism. However, there is also a grey zone of organizations operating domestically that received government funding not because they endorsed government positions, but because legal and financial restrictions left them with few alternatives. In an environment where foreign funding is heavily constrained and politically sensitive work is risky, many of these organizations have avoided topics that could have triggered official retaliation simply to ensure their survival.
For this reason, while donors should avoid supporting clearly instrumental GONGOs whose purpose is to defend the government line, cooperation with CSOs that receive some state funding should not be excluded a priori. In some cases, engagement and support can help these organizations gradually increase their autonomy and diversify their funding sources. Several interviewees stressed that, in the current context, it is unrealistic to expect a complete separation from the state and that, given greater freedom and fewer political constraints, many such organizations would prefer to operate independently.
More broadly, in authoritarian systems where resources for independent civil society are scarce and political oversight is pervasive, donors must think strategically about the opportunities and limits of engaging with actors labelled as “GONGOs,” bearing in mind that the category is broad and encompasses organizations with very different levels of dependence, motivation, and potential for independence.
5. Support the diversification of civil society actors and engage them
– Enhance the think tank sector. Respondents pointed to a scarcity of critical thinking in Central Asia and a need to support the development of think tanks as vital hubs of knowledge. This could play a crucial role in addressing this deficiency and alleviating existing challenges, such as combating Russian, Chinese and local governments’ disinformation, which has significantly increased with Putin’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine.
– Promote the Advancement of Independent Trade Unions: Historically hindered by stringent regulations, independent trade unions in Central Asia have faced challenges to operating freely. Supporting the development and empowerment of trade unions would not only strengthen workers’ rights but also nurture a culture of independent thinking. This initiative could have a substantial impact on sensitive sectors such as forced labor, where strides have been made yet persistent challenges remain.
– Engage Traditional Actors: Strengthening ties with local traditional structures, such as mahallas (neighborhood committees) and aksakals (elders), can help navigate bureaucratic and authoritarian obstacles while building trust with foreign stakeholders. These traditional actors are also an important means of building a relationship of trust between foreign funders and the local population.
– Engage with the Central Asian Diaspora: In a repressive environment, working with the expatriate Central Asian community, who may eventually return and exert influence, presents an opportunity for both development initiatives and the promotion of universal human rights values.
– Reach out to Islamic civil society. Donors should make an effort to learn more about the diversity and the increasing role that Islamic civil society actors are playing in Central Asia and to connect with them. Muslim Civil Society Organizations (MCSOs) have often been victims of overgeneralization or stereotyping, and more interaction with them is important to better understand their goals and impact on development in the region, as well as how they might support U.S. and Western objectives. In particular, foreign embassies in the country could reach out to MCSOs in similar ways as they do with secular or other religious NGOs. Foreign funders could engage with MCSOs on issues where they share long-term goals, such as local economic and social development, fighting domestic violence, community stabilization, and countering violent extremism. Cooperation could involve dialogue and coordination on mutually reinforcing programs and could build on the constructive role that many MCSOs played in response to the COVID 19 pandemic and the trust they built with local communities as a result.
However, engagement with Islamic civil society should be calibrated to national contexts. The level of authoritarian control and political sensitivity surrounding religion differs sharply across Central Asian states, and what is possible in one country may be risky or counterproductive in another. For example, cooperation with MCSOs may be relatively feasible and socially accepted in Kyrgyzstan, where Islamic actors play visible community roles, while in more repressive settings, such as Tajikistan, any interaction with Islamic CSOs may expose them to suspicion, surveillance, or accusations of extremism. Donors should therefore tailor their approach to each political context and avoid actions that could unintentionally endanger local partners.
Foreign funders should also coordinate with other countries, international organizations, and donors to exchange information on cooperation with MCSOs and to assess any potential risks, including affiliations that may be extremist or violent. Responsible cooperation requires careful due diligence, but excluding Islamic civil society altogether reinforces state monopolies over religion and overlooks actors who can play a meaningful role in development, social cohesion, and community-level resilience.
6. Empower entrepreneurship and IT skills
Recognizing the growing link between democratization movements and the IT sector, foreign funders should prioritize the development of IT skills among youth. This not only enhances their capacity for critical thinking but also harnesses technical expertise for potential societal and political changes. This could include the development of soft skills through comprehensive after-school curricula, teaching technology, YouTube channels, communication skills, and video media.
7. Encourage Western companies to integrate social corporate responsibility to strengthen civil society
Western companies operating in Central Asia can play a constructive role in supporting civic space, provided their contribution is calibrated to the political and economic constraints under which they operate. The objective would not be to turn businesses into human-rights advocacy organizations, but to ensure that their presence contributes to pluralism, inclusion, and accountability rather than unintentionally reinforcing authoritarian practices. To do this responsibly, companies should adopt CSR initiatives that generate social benefits while minimizing political exposure.
First, companies can invest in areas that indirectly strengthen civic autonomy but are not framed as political confrontation, such as youth professional development, media literacy, transparency in environmental and labor practices, support for independent trade unions where legally possible, and capacity-building for local NGOs working on non-sensitive topics (e.g., disability rights, social entrepreneurship, environmental protection). Such initiatives can expand the ecosystem of independent actors without openly challenging the authorities.
Second, companies can promote good governance norms inside their own operations. By implementing high standards of labor rights, non-discrimination, whistleblower protection, supply-chain transparency, and anti-corruption compliance, and by making these standards public, they contribute to raising expectations about corporate accountability and rule of law. Without engaging in political advocacy, this creates islands of fair practice that signal that ethical standards are compatible with operating in the region.
Finally, companies should adopt a “collective posture” when possible. Acting in isolation increases risks; acting through sectoral associations, business councils, and chambers of commerce reduces individual exposure and makes it harder for governments to frame responsible CSR practices as hostile. Quiet coordination among like-minded firms can help normalize ethical conduct without provoking authorities, while signaling that social responsibility is a shared expectation rather than a political gesture.
8. Support the legal profession
In the face of growing government pressure on lawyers, activists recommended that foreign funders advocate for the protection of lawyers, potentially through legislative changes. Supporting pro bono lawyers were suggested avenues to safeguard the legal profession.
9. Revise funding mechanisms
Diversifying partners also means dividing funding between more organizations. First, this implies balancing the distribution of funding by giving more funds to small, local CSOs rather than giving large amounts to single (often U.S.-based) subgrantees that are less connected with the field and whose large overhead eats up money that could sustain smaller local CSOs. This may mean that foreign funders must increase their own staff to manage the increased number of grants and to ensure project follow-up.
Provide more opportunities for long-term support. CSOs interviewed suggested that while short-term funding can be useful for addressing immediate needs and emergencies, it does not allow for strategic planning, capacity building, and institutional development of CSOs. Hence, they urged foreign funders to balance short-term funding with long-term support for more substantial projects, including with multi-year grants, as well as more core funding and operational support for CSOs.
Foreign funders should also include funding to cover the core administrative functions of CSOs, such as staff costs and administration. Much funding is restricted to programmatic activities, making it difficult for independent CSOs to retain good staff and attract younger workers. Many CSOs interviewed also complained about the administrative workload imposed by Western requirements, as those with only a small number of staff have found themselves in difficult situations where the administrative burden cut into their ability to actually implement the project.
CSOs interviewed also urged that calls for applications be more transparent and more widely advertised. This could mean highlighting announcements on foreign CSOs’ website and circulating them in a way that would make them more accessible to a greater number of CSOs, for example by translating them into the local languages. In addition, streamlining the application process would help allow smaller, less experienced CSOs to compete for grants and thereby contribute to the development of civil society.
10. Extend the geographic area of their engagement with civil society
Several CSOs urged foreign funders to increase their presence outside of major cities, and especially in programs focused on human rights. While foreign donors already implement development and social projects outside metropolitan areas, interviewees consistently noted that initiatives aimed at protecting civic freedoms and promoting democratic participation remain heavily concentrated in capital and main cities.
Almost all interviewees agreed that meaningful progress in strengthening civil society and democratic institutions required programs to reach populations beyond the political and economic centers, which represent only a minority of the country. Expanding engagement into the regions would support the emergence of provincial CSOs, increase their independence and capacity, and reduce their dependence on capital-based intermediaries.
Diversifying geographically would also help donors avoid being steered toward government-approved CSOs and full-fledged GONGOs that promote official narratives. By creating direct partnerships with regional actors, foreign funders could better understand local needs, broaden civic participation, and strengthen civil society where it is currently most fragile.
11. Include more diverse segments of the Central Asia population.
Building an independent civil society capable of influencing government decisions requires engagement not only with CSOs, but also with the authorities who are expected to interact with them, including politicians, parliamentarians, and local officials. Several CSOs emphasized that lasting change ultimately depends on government action; therefore, foreign funders should actively cultivate relationships with public officials involved in legislative and political debate. Strengthening the professionalism and accountability of parliamentarians and other officials and encouraging regular consultation with civil society would help promote a political culture in which civic input is both expected and valued.
Foreign funders should also expand engagement with youth. Involving the next generation in programs that reinforce democratic values and civic participation aligns with governments’ official youth policies and can contribute to long-term social and political modernization. Interviewees in Kazakhstan, for example, noted that younger cohorts, more educated, globally connected, and outward-looking, increasingly support anti corruption reforms, greater political openness, and diversification away from Russia. Supporting youth participation therefore represents both an investment in civil society and a response to evolving social expectations.
Finally, interviewees across the region pointed to the limited engagement of foreign funders with the Kazakh-, Kyrgyz-, Tajik-, and Uzbek-speaking segments of the population. Most trainings, materials, and calls for proposals remain available only in Russian, despite the growing number of citizens who speak only their national languages. To bridge this gap, foreign funders should work directly with local-language CSOs, translate capacity building resources and project documentation into national languages, and hire more local-language speakers within their field missions. Doing so would expand civic participation beyond urban elites and help ensure that civil society development is accessible to a broader share of the population.
12. Conduct more trainings to build CSO capacity.
Interviewees consistently identified limited organizational capacity, especially in grant writing and program design, as a major barrier to the development of independent civil society. Many CSOs reported being “stuck” in approaches inherited from the 1990s and struggling to adapt to new technological tools, contemporary advocacy strategies, and evolving donor expectations. They emphasized that exposure to best practices and lessons learned from other regions of Eurasia and beyond would help them innovate and remain relevant.
Foreign funders should therefore expand training and educational opportunities for CSOs on democracy and human rights to help strengthen their knowledge base, strategic thinking, and long-term sustainability. Seminars and dialogue platforms can deepen understanding of the multiple dimensions of democratic governance and help CSOs generate more compelling project ideas.
Improving administrative capacity is equally necessary. Many small CSOs cannot access funding simply because they lack staff trained in budgeting, monitoring and evaluation, and narrative and financial reporting. Targeted training on grant management would enable these organizations to compete more effectively for support and, crucially, would allow donors to diversify their partner networks and include smaller grassroots actors that represent the core of civil society in the region.
Exchange programs can also play a transformative role. Interviewees saw exchanges with democratic countries as opportunities to learn from different civic experiences, reduce stereotypes, and counter disinformation. Such programs should not be limited to civil society activists but include state officials, journalists, academics, and students to build shared understanding and cross-sectoral dialogue. Exchanges focused on democracy, human rights, and civil society development could also inspire local CSOs to create similar initiatives within their own countries or across the region.
Finally, while in-person activities remain valuable, foreign funders should also expand online training and virtual exchanges. The technological infrastructure exists to support them, and virtual formats would open opportunities to CSOs based in remote rural areas that seldom have access to capacity-building resources.
13. Avoid bolstering government PR campaigns.
Several interviewees expressed concern that some Western entities and organizations, through their rhetoric and activities, appeared increasingly aligned with Uzbek government public relations efforts. According to critics, certain conferences and high profile events risk functioning more as showcases designed to project a positive image than as genuine platforms for dialogue with independent civil society.
Interviewees therefore stressed the need for greater caution and discernment when engaging in government-driven PR initiatives. Foreign organizations should assess carefully whether their participation may unintentionally legitimize or amplify narratives that gloss over ongoing human rights concerns. A critical and well-informed approach would allow external partners to engage constructively with Uzbekistan without inadvertently reinforcing misleading portrayals of reform.
14. Countering disinformation.
Several CSOs interviewed urged democratic states to respond more actively to widespread disinformation targeting Western actors, civil society in general, specific CSOs, and the concepts of democracy and human rights. They emphasized that such propaganda is not a short-term nuisance but a long-term threat to their work and their very existence. Interviewees suggested that supporting independent Russian-language media and disseminating reliable information through social media, including in local languages, would help reach a broader segment of the population.
Beyond countering false narratives, CSOs stressed the importance of foreign funders communicating more transparently about their own activities. USAID was often cited as being excessively discreet about its work, a silence that unintentionally contributed to conspiracy theories and public mistrust of foreign support. Increasing proactive outreach and transparency, for example through social networks or programs in local libraries, would reduce space for misinformation and help the broader public understand the purpose of international assistance.
CSOs also requested more support and training to counter disinformation campaigns aimed at discrediting democracy, human rights, and independent civic engagement. They need tools to advocate for themselves, communicate their mission effectively to the public, and reinforce trust in civic initiatives. Foreign funders could help by strengthening CSOs’ relationships with mass media and offering guidance on how to engage with journalists and media outlets, enabling them to defend their legitimacy and communicate their work more confidently.
15. Pair programming with principled diplomacy.
Diplomatic pressure and public advocacy on sensitive rights issues should not be outsourced to local activists, who bear disproportionate risk. Donors should press for legal and regulatory reforms that align with international standards and are implemented in practice. Encouraging authorities to engage with a plurality of civil society voices, not only state-aligned entities, can help de-escalate tensions and open channels for incremental change.
16. Assess the Impact of USAID Withdrawal.
In light of the withdrawal of USAID programs and the consequent reduction in financial support, international funders should urgently assess the impact of this funding gap on CSOs. Many CSOs that already had projects underway now risk closing or stalling due to diminished operational support. Donors should undertake a comprehensive evaluation to understand how the loss of USAID programs has affected CSOs’ operations, sustainability, and project outcomes.
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