The little-talked-about central Asian state that's about to ruffle Moscow's feathers

By all accounts, Europe has never lacked ambition. From Lisbon to Luhansk, its institutions have long cast hopeful glances at the horizon, dreaming that the glow of democracy might extend into regions once bound by other, less forgiving ideologies. Today, a new frontier beckons — not with fanfare or force, but with a declaration: one signed by twenty-two members of the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe (PACE), welcoming Kazakhstan’s commitment to democratic reform.

It would be easy — perhaps even fashionable — to dismiss this as mere diplomatic posturing. After all, Central Asia is not a part of Europe, nor is it traditionally tethered to the continent’s intellectual or political gravity. But such glibness overlooks what is quietly taking shape in this vast and historically misunderstood region.

Kazakhstan’s increasingly vocal ambition to align with European standards of governance, rights, and rule of law is not a geopolitical sleight of hand. It is an opportunity. What’s at stake here is more than one country’s place at a Strasbourg table. It is Europe’s credibility as a democratic project capable of nurturing reform beyond its comfort zone. It is also, crucially, a test of how seriously we take our own values when others — particularly those far from our familiar cultural terrain — claim to share them.

Let us begin with the facts. Kazakhstan’s government has, since 2022, launched what it calls a““Just Kazakhstan”” programme — a suite of political, economic, and judicial reforms intended to modernise the state, curtail systemic corruption, and empower civil society. These efforts are not cosmetic. According to recent statements from both European parliamentarians and Kazakh officials, concrete steps have been taken: legal amendments protecting rights of assembly and association; the establishment of anti-
torture mechanisms; an explicit zero-tolerance policy for violence against women and children.

Now, scepticism is the coin of the realm in Western commentary — and rightly so. No honest observer should assume that the journey from authoritarianism to liberal democracy is ever linear. Nor should we be blind to the danger that regimes might seek
the stamp of European legitimacy without submitting to its constraints. We’ve seen this movie before — in Russia, in Turkey, in Hungary.

But Kazakhstan is not these countries. It has no imperial pretensions, no revanchist sabre-rattling, and — perhaps most tellingly — no historic enmity with the West. It is, instead, a state forged from the ruins of Soviet collapse, grappling with the complexities of modernisation, identity, and sovereignty in a neighbourhood dominated by geopolitical giants. That it chooses to look towards Strasbourg instead of Moscow or Beijing should not merely be noted. It should be nurtured.

There are, of course, real incentives for Europe to engage. For one, Central Asia sits astride the Middle Corridor — a logistical artery connecting China to Europe via the Caspian Sea and Caucasus, bypassing Russia. In an age of energy insecurity and supply chain fragility, Kazakhstan’s vast mineral wealth and infrastructure potential are far more than regional footnotes; they are strategic assets. Strengthening governance and rule of law in the region can help ensure that Europe is not beholden to autocrats or chokepoints.

Moreover, the democratic stability of Central Asia is inextricably linked to Europe’s own security. Potential political unrest in Kazakhstan — a pivotal nation straddling the borders of Russia, China, Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, and the Caspian Sea — would not remain a localised affair. Its tremors could reverberate across migration routes, disrupt energy markets, and embolden extremist networks. A resilient, law-governed, and self- assured Kazakhstan is not a diplomatic indulgence; it is a strategic bulwark against
broader regional instability.

But for that bulwark to stand, Europe must proceed wisely. Support must be contingent not on rhetoric, but on reform. Engagement must be accompanied by verification, benchmarking, and the kind of constructive pressure that made European integration in Eastern Europe a success story — not a cautionary tale.

We must not hand out laurels before the race has even begun. The written declaration by members of PACE rightly takes a cautiously optimistic tone. It applauds Kazakhstan’s zero-tolerance policy on torture, its overtures to civil society, and its stated intention to embrace European conventions.

But it does so while reminding all parties that words are cheap. Conventions must be ratified. Reforms must be enforced. Civil society must be protected, not paraded. Kazakhstan must understand that accession to European norms is not a box-ticking exercise, but a covenant — one that binds its signatories to principles that transcend expediency.

Of course, this will ruffle feathers in Moscow. Any movement by Kazakhstan towards Europe is perceived in the Kremlin as an encroachment. But Europe must resist the temptation to see everything through a Russia-first lens. Kazakhstan is a sovereign
state. It deserves to chart its own future without being reduced to a pawn in someone else’s game board.

Critics will argue that allowing Central Asian states closer to European institutions risks diluting our standards. I would argue the opposite. If Europe cannot influence reform in states that seek its guidance, then it has already diluted its purpose. The alternative — a kind of gated community of democracy, closed to outsiders — is both intellectually lazy and strategically suicidal.

Kazakhstan will not become Denmark overnight. But it does not need to. What it must become is a credible partner in the democratic experiment — one that acknowledges its past, confronts its flaws, and accepts that legitimacy is not given, but earned. The road will be long. There will be setbacks, moments of hypocrisy, and clashes of expectation. But if Europe is to remain more than a museum of ideals — if it is to matter in the world of 2025 and beyond — then it must extend its reach to those who, however imperfectly, are reaching back. The ink has dried on the declaration. What matters now is not what has been signed — but what is done.