December 24th 2024

Yuriy recounts his tense experience during the 2010 Kyrgyzstan Revolution, where he was mistaken for an Al-Qaeda member. A simple act involving vodka cleared his name and granted him freedom...

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TRANSCRIPT: (Apple Podcasts & Podbean app users can enjoy accurate closed captions)  

  It is December 24th.

I hope you enjoyed my story about Madame President in Kyrgystan. I have plenty of other stories from my past life and I'm happy to share them with you. It helps me distract myself from our rather grim present, and it might help you  understand me better. Today, I'll tell you more about the same trip during which I met President Rosa Otunbayeva. This one is a story about Al-Qaeda. 

During the 2010 Revolution in Kyrgyzstan, some of the main events took place in a city called Osh. It was a hometown of a president who had been ousted by the Revolution and most of his inner circle. They tried to consolidate where power there, but they failed due to a fierce resistance of the people. I was in the local regional government building when it was stormed by protestors. The building was defended by supporters of ousted President Kurmanbek Bakiyev. They formed a human chain armed with sticks, rebar, and stones, facing a massive crowd building similar weapons. 

About a half a mile away, a unit of local police, about a hundred officers, stood in the grove. We did not intervene but simply observed the brawl. Fortunately, it ended rather quickly and without significant bloodshed. The former president's supporters fled when they realized they were vastly numbered. Only when did the police approach the building. Their major bummed a cigarette off me- I still smoked back then- and complained about how the world was seeing Kyrgyz people at their worst: arm ed with sticks and stones. The police lined up along the facade of a government building while a rally of a victorious crowd began in the square in front of it. 

I watched the scene unfold, standing among the crowd. The weather was beautiful. People were happy, the only eye sore was the massive Lenin monument around which the pro-democracy rally took place. A relic of Soviet times. There are still thousands of such Lenin statues across the post-Soviet space. 

In the middle of the crowd, two young Kyrgyz men in suits approached me. One whispered that they were from the local branch of main security service- the National Security Committee -and discretely showed me his ID near waist level so our wouldn't see the ever carefully moved his jacket aside to reveal a pistol underneath. The first one will likely asked me to follow them and warned what it was in my best interest to comply. 

We left the crowd and walked through nearly deserted streets. Most residents were either at the square or hiding at home fearing further street battles. After about 10 minutes, we arrived at the police station and entered it. It was just as empty. My two escorts led me to a back room where a middle aged civilian man sat looking visibly nervous.

Now with all three of them, they began questioning me. They were convinced I was one of the instigators of the revolution in the city. They asked who had sent me and even answered, we without question: Al-Qaeda. Their propaganda had been spreading the narrative for weeks, that Al-Qaeda was behind the unrest, trying to turn kirstan into caliphate. And there I was, obviously not a local, with a long beard wearing cargo pants, which are popular among journalists and jihadists alike. Naturally were decided, I was a terrorist. 

I started explaining that I was a reporter, merely observing events and that I had nothing to do with Al-Qaeda. At this, the men in the room pulled out a bottle of vodka and the plastic cup from his drawer. He poured about half the cup and handed it to me. Here, Bin Laden "Prove you are not an Islamist", he said, fully aware that Muslims are strictly forbidden from drinking alcohol.  

Kyrgystan is almost entirely a Muslim country, yet I often saw vodka there. It freely sold, consumed at celebration and casually, while those who don't drink are regarded as very religious. I drank with vodka and asked if I could have some more. The three of them burst into laughter and told me I'd proven I was not a jihadist and was free to go. 

So that's my Christmas story for you. If you enjoyed it, feel free to send me your regards using the details in the episode description.