It has become a common practice in Tajikistan to record violations and hooliganism using a smartphone camera. Ordinary citizens take on the role of vigilant guardians of the law, while the authorities, in turn, are forced to react. Digital Vigilantism is a new global phenomenon that also manifests itself locally. Independent researcher Sher Khashimov examines the cultural origins and political context of such activism in Tajikistan in an article for CABAR.Asia.
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The global trends of digital vigilantism have reached Dushanbe, Tajikistan, and taken on a local form. Armed with smartphones, access to the Internet, and a distrust for law enforcement, many of the city’s residents are taking on the state’s dysfunctions. Recordings of incidents of traffic violations, disorderly conduct, and kidnappings of young men into military service are regularly posted on social media to galvanize civil society and force the state to respond – all amidst an environment of tight state control over the freedom of expression and high-priced low-quality Internet.
The spread of smart mobile devices and social media over the past decade has given rise to a global phenomenon that academic Daniel Trottier defines as “citizens, collectively offended by other citizens’ actions”, enforcing legal and cultural norms by “naming and shaming the offenders and weaponizing their visibility using digital media.”[1] Such weaponization capitalizes on public outrage and the viral effect created by social media, and functions at the confluence of justice-seeking and entertainment. From publicizing the incidents of police brutality and rekindling the public discourse around casual racism people of color deal with daily in the United States to shaming Kyrgyz women who interact with other ethnicities in Russia, people around the world use digital vigilantism for various purposes across the political spectrum.
Digital vigilantism versus the people
In Tajikistan, digital vigilantism has been largely confined to the streets of Dushanbe and to Facebook and YouTube pages, reflecting low smartphone penetration outside of the country’s capital and the nature of the local telecommunications market where mobile data is quite expensive[2] but cell service providers often include free data for specific social media platforms.[3] Videos of traffic violations and disorderly conduct captured by city residents quickly find their audience on the most popular Facebook pages in Tajikistan like Ya – Dushanbinec! (I Am From Dushanbe!)[4] or Mi – Tadjikistancy! (We Are Tajiks!)[5] that often serve as the only places for relatively open public discussions. Many send videos directly to the official Facebook page of the Dushanbe department of the Ministry of Internal Affairs.[6] Each of these videos yields hundreds of reactions and comments shaming the alleged perpetrators and urging the government to punish them.
People publishing these videos and the heated discussions these videos produce aim to seek justice by capitalizing on viral shaming while circumventing corruption in law enforcement that allows perpetrators to get off the hook with a bribe. The “punishment of the body”[7] delegated to the state in this case is accompanied by the “punishment of the soul” achieved through public shaming and damaged reputation. Public shame is a crucial element of digital vigilantism that is especially potent in the Tajik culture that views shame as a form of social death. “[The perpetrators] are afraid of public scorn. Fifteen days in jail doesn’t scare them but seeing their photo online does,” Timur Temirkhanov, a 25-year-old journalist and social activist from Dushanbe, explained in an interview. “Before the Internet, maybe 20 people would see a poster with your face on the wall before it’s taken down. But online, thousands will see your face in a matter of hours, especially in the country as small as ours. And you can’t defend yourself against everyone in the comments”.
The government responds to these videos in kind, arresting alleged perpetrators within days and reporting the arrests online.[8] Each report usually includes the video that served as the reason for the arrest and the photo of the perpetrator. The dejected faces of the arrested[9] and sometimes a mocking soundtrack[10] further drive home the public shame element. One of the first viral cases of digital vigilantism successfully seeking justice involved a young taxi driver harassing a woman on the street. Police arrested the man the day after the incident and sentenced him to a 10-day administrative arrest and community service; the news of his sentencing included the photos of him mopping the floors and sweeping the yard as a punishment[11] and were widely praised by social activists.[12]
“I remember the times when guys would harass girls on the streets with impunity. Now guys can get punished if they get filmed in the act,” Vika Petrova, a 20-year-old journalist from Dushanbe, said in an interview. “Smartphones became a useful tool; guys would stop each time I took it out. I started feeling safer.”
Local culture of shame isn’t the only reason digital vigilantism has seen some limited success in Tajikistan. Outsourced vigilance and “responsibilization” of citizens is rooted in the Soviet tradition of the state compelling its citizens to vigilantism, denunciation, and collectivist justice, allowing the state to benefit while staying away.[13] Engaging Dushanbe residents in participatory surveillance extends the “effective gaze of the state”[14] without extending the government’s thin resources and helps the government appear responsive – a benefit of particular value for Dushanbe’s mayor Rustami Emomali, widely seen as a more technocratic and responsive alternative to the politicians from older generations and as the next in line to the office of the president of Tajikistan.
Digital vigilantism has obvious downsides. Anyone equipped with a smartphone and an internet connection – essentially most residents of Dushanbe – can engage in digital vigilantism and expose fellow citizens online. Unlike in comrade courts in the Soviet times, Dushanbe residents can enjoy the anonymity and ability to intensify and prolong retaliation offered by digital vigilantism.[15] But this can further harm citizen-to-citizen relations in the country where the social fabric is already strained by dire economic conditions, the local culture of shame, distrust of the government, and the memories of the recent civil war. Digital vigilantism can also create an environment where the presumption of innocence is replaced by a presumption of guilt, as academic Rashid Gabdulhakov points out[16] – a daunting development in the country that lacks an independent judicial system and where citizens are routinely deprived of their right for a fair trial.
Digital vigilantism versus the state
One area where its impacts are yet to be seen fully is so-called oblavas or raids – a local phenomenon of kidnappings of young men by state actors to force them into military service.
In Tajikistan, young men between the ages of 18 and 27 are obligated to serve 1 to 2 years in the country’s armed forces. The only ways to avoid or defer conscription is to obtain a medical exemption, be a university student, be a father to at least two children, or be the only son in the family. Some estimates put the number of young men eligible for military service at over 350 thousand, and yet each year, from April 1 to May 31 and from October 1 to November 30, the Ministry of Defense struggles to draft around 16 thousand eligible young men.[17]
Military service is highly unpopular in Tajikistan. Army conditions are poor, with dirty cold barracks and a shortage of food.[18] Hazing and bullying are widespread[19]: The Office of Civil Freedoms reports that between 2014 and 2017, at least 62 soldiers suffered from beatings and cruel treatment and at least another 12 incidents resulted in soldiers’ deaths.[20] Finally, the Tajik army doesn’t offer the perks and prestige the armed forces of other countries offer.
Each year, when the draft is announced, young men leave the country to find work abroad, sign up for education courses, or start moving from one district to another – all to avoid conscription. Facing the shortage of conscripts and pressure from civil society, the Tajik government is considering reforms to make military service more desirable. In the past, there were discussions of offering recently returned army veterans land leases and free driving courses.[21] Last February, the Ministry of Defense suggested that the maximum obligatory service term be cut from 24 months down to 18 months.[22]
But while these reforms are in the works, the state uses violent means to fulfill the annual conscription quota, from restricting its citizens’ freedom of movement[23] and cutting off electricity in entire districts[24] to engaging in oblavas. Ignoring detailed draft procedures established by law, people in plain clothes and unmarked vehicles with no visible affiliation with government agencies kidnap young men in public or from their homes and take them to conscription stations, where these men are forcibly registered and shipped out before their families can take any action. Nasimjon Kasimov, a resident of Rudaki district, was captured in November 2019 on the day of his 18th birthday, when strangers broke into the house and dragged him away amidst the protests from the family and neighbors.[25] Three days later, the staff of the Shakhrinav district conscription office broke into the house of a 25-year-old local resident, ignoring the fact that he had already served in the military.[26] And a month before that, Asia Plus reporter Abdullo Gurbati got on the bus on the way home from work to realize that he was trapped in a vehicle full of young men being taken to the army.[27]
These illegal raids were particularly common up until 2013. That year, two-fifth of interviewed soldiers admitted that they had been caught in round ups.[28] Under the pressure from civil society, the president of Tajikistan publicly criticized[29] the practice which resulted in a noticeable decrease in incidents of oblava. When the raids picked up again in 2018 – up to at least 400 complaints a year, according to Dilrabo Samadova, the head of the Office for Civil Liberties[30] – Internet and smartphone penetration was high enough in Dushanbe for local residents to start publicizing them online.
Each publicized raid attracts a lot of attention – an April 2019 YouTube video of an oblava in downtown Dushanbe, for example, has over 18 thousand views[31] – and generates enough condemnation to force the perpetrators to react appropriately. Some videos show perpetrators removing their vehicle license plates and retreating to avoid public exposure;
Abdullo Gurbati, the Asia Plus reporter mentioned earlier, was let go when he promised to not publish the video of his capture online. The public discourse around these videos has become active enough again – with some news reports amassing almost half a million views on YouTube alone[32] – for Sherali Mirzo, Tajikistan’ minister of defense, to address the heads of conscription stations by demanding they “avoid creating problems”[33] during the conscription period.
Yet the raids keep happening. For one, they are a “feeder for corruption,” as Dilrabo Samadova puts it[34]: Families of kidnapped are forced to pay the heads of conscription stations off to get these young men out. Another reason lies in the state’s satisfaction with the current dynamic: As the public discourse condemning oblavas picks up, the government punishes low-level officials and promises reforms to score quick approval points with the public without having to address the issue fundamentally. Finally, digital vigilantism surrounding the issue of oblavas hasn’t seen much success because it is not fellow citizens but the state itself that violates the law. Here, as Rashid Gabdulhakov points out, “the issues of power and immunity to exposure, afforded by certain privileges of the state, come into play.”[35]
Conclusion
A repressive state like Tajikistan’s has an advantage over other actors because it has a monopoly over legal mechanisms, mainstream media, and other tools of control, and cannot be held accountable in the court of public opinion. As long as Tajikistan does not have independent media and judicial system capable of holding the executive branch of the government accountable to the people, the impacts of digital vigilantism in the country will likely be limited to flagging minor traffic violations without fundamentally addressing the larger shortcomings of rule of law. Moreover, digital vigilantism in its current form benefits the state because it serves as a pressure valve that lets out the excess of sociopolitical frustration. These daunting observations are in line with the existing understanding of digital vigilantism around the world[36] and particularly with analysis of the digital vigilantism trends in Russia.[37]
This article was prepared as part of the Giving Voice, Driving Change – from the Borderland to the Steppes Project.
[1] Daniel Trottier, March 2017, “Digital Vigilantism as Weaponisation of Visibility”, Philosophy & Technology 30(1), https://www.researchgate.net/publication/299577820_Digital_Vigilantism_as_Weaponisation_of_Visibility
[2] OZY, September 13, 2018, “Dushanbe millennials are reconnecting a broken city – with the Internet”, https://www.ozy.com/around-the-world/dushanbes-millennials-are-reconnecting-a-broken-city-with-the-internet/89082/
[3] Megafon Tajikistan, https://megafon.tj/tarify-i-optsii/vse-tarify/alltariffs/
[4] https://www.facebook.com/groups/355096164617904
[5] https://www.facebook.com/groups/tajikistanians
[6] https://www.facebook.com/www.dushanbepolice.tj
[7] Rashid Gabdulhakov, October 2018, “Citizen-Led Justice in Post-Communist Russia: From Comrades’ Courts to Dotcomrade Vigilantism”, Surveillance & Society 16(3):314-331, https://www.researchgate.net/publication/328263842_Citizen-Led_Justice_in_Post-Communist_Russia_From_Comrades’_Courts_to_Dotcomrade_Vigilantism
[8] Department of Ministry of Internal Affairs in Dushanbe, http://dushanbepolice.tj/
[9] Department of Ministry of Internal Affairs in Dushanbe, November 19, 2020, “Таҳқиқи навор: Ҳабси ду нафар ҷавон барои майдаавбошӣ”, http://dushanbepolice.tj/2020/11/%d1%82%d0%b0%d2%b3%d2%9b%d0%b8%d2%9b%d0%b8-%d0%bd%d0%b0%d0%b2%d0%be%d1%80-5-%d1%88%d0%b0%d0%b1%d0%be%d0%bd%d0%b0%d1%80%d3%af%d0%b7%d3%a3-%d2%b3%d0%b0%d0%b1%d1%81%d0%b8-%d0%bc%d0%b0%d1%8a%d0%bc%d1%83/
[10] Department of Ministry of Internal Affairs in Dushanbe, October 1, 2020, “Боздошт: Таҳдиди 35 000 сомонӣ ҷарима нисбати 2 ронанда барои пойгаи ғайриқонунӣ”, http://dushanbepolice.tj/2020/10/%d0%b1%d0%be%d0%b7%d0%b4%d0%be%d1%88%d1%82-%d1%82%d0%b0%d2%b3%d0%b4%d0%b8%d0%b4%d0%b8-35-000-%d1%81%d0%be%d0%bc%d0%be%d0%bd%d3%a3-%d2%b7%d0%b0%d1%80%d0%b8%d0%bc%d0%b0-%d0%bd%d0%b8%d1%81%d0%b1%d0%b0/
[11] Department of Ministry of Internal Affairs in Dushanbe, August 20, 2018, “Боздошти ронандае, ки ҷавонзанеро дашномҳои қабеҳ додааст”, http://dushanbepolice.tj/2018/08/%d0%b1%d0%be%d0%b7%d0%b4%d0%be%d1%88%d1%82%d0%b8-%d1%80%d0%be%d0%bd%d0%b0%d0%bd%d0%b4%d0%b0%d0%b5-%d0%ba%d0%b8-%d2%b7%d0%b0%d0%b2%d0%be%d0%bd%d0%b7%d0%b0%d0%bd%d0%b5%d1%80%d0%be-%d0%b4%d0%b0%d1%88/
[12] https://www.instagram.com/p/BnlzmyHhIcc/
[13] Rashid Gabdulhakov, October 2018, “Citizen-Led Justice in Post-Communist Russia: From Comrades’ Courts to Dotcomrade Vigilantism”, Surveillance & Society 16(3):314-331, https://www.researchgate.net/publication/328263842_Citizen-Led_Justice_in_Post-Communist_Russia_From_Comrades’_Courts_to_Dotcomrade_Vigilantism
[14] Ibid
[15] Ibid
[16] Ibid
[17] CABAR, February 14, 2020, “The Practice of Raid in Tajikistan: What Should The Army in the XXI Century Look Like?”, https://cabar.asia/en/the-practice-of-raid-in-tajikistan-what-should-the-army-in-the-xxi-century-look-like
[18] CABAR, July 12, 2016, “Pressure Mounts on Tajik Army”, https://cabar.asia/en/pressure-mounts-on-tajik-army
[19] Institute for War and Peace Reporting, July 30, 2014, “Tajik Army Urged to Tackle Bullying”, https://iwpr.net/global-voices/tajik-army-urged-tackle-bullying
[20] CABAR, November 30, 2018, “Young Tajiks Fear to Soldier Due to Raids and Dedovschina”, https://cabar.asia/en/young-tajiks-fear-to-soldier-due-to-raids-and-dedovschina
[21] ASIA-Plus, March 11, 2020, “В Таджикистане добровольно ушедшим в армию парням обещают выдать водительские права”,
https://asiaplustj.info/ru/news/tajikistan/society/20200311/v-tadzhikistane-dobrovolno-ushedshim-v-armiyu-parnyam-obetshayut-vidat-voditelskie-prava
[22] ASIA-Plus, February 7, 2020, “В Таджикистане предложили сократить срок службы в армии до 1,5 лет”,
https://asiaplustj.info/ru/news/tajikistan/society/20200207/v-tadzhikistane-predlozhili-sokratit-srok-sluzhbi-v-armii-do-15-let
[23] ASIA-Plus, February 26, 2020, “На севере Таджикистана молодому парню не разрешили выехать за границу из-за призывного возраста”,
https://asiaplustj.info/ru/news/tajikistan/society/20200226/na-severe-tadzhikistana-molodomu-parnyu-ne-razreshili-viehat-za-granitsu-iz-za-prizivnogo-vozrasta
[24] BBC, November 23, 2018, “Tajik army faces criticism over draft campaign”, https://www.bbc.com/news/blogs-news-from-elsewhere-46315835
[25] Независимое Мнение, November 12, 2019, “18 мне уже: в Рудаки «облава» забрала парня, ворвавшись к нему домой на день рождения”, https://nm.tj/incident/54360-18-mne-uzhe-v-rudaki-oblava-zabrala-parnya-vorvavshis-k-nemu-domoy-na-den-rozhdeniya.html
[26] RFE/RL, November 12, 2019, “Облава” в Шахринаве: сотрудники военкомата увели с собой отслужившего парня. ВИДЕО”, https://rus.ozodi.org/a/30265605.html
[27] Akhbor, February 10, 2019, “ОПАСНЫЙ ПАРЕНЬ” АБДУЛЛОХИ ГУРБАТИ ОБ ОБЛОМЕ ”ОБЛАВЫ”: ЭТО ОЧЕНЬ СТРАШНО, УНИЗИТЕЛЬНО И ПОЗОРНО! (ВИДЕО)”, https://akhbor-rus.com/X-X-XX-p2967-161.htm
[28] CABAR, November 30, 2018, “Young Tajiks Fear to Soldier Due to Raids and Dedovschina”, https://cabar.asia/en/young-tajiks-fear-to-soldier-due-to-raids-and-dedovschina
[29] Interfax, February 27, 2014, “Президент Таджикистана запретил “облавы” на призывников”, http://interfax.az/view/601312
[30] CABAR, December 3, 2020, “5-Stan Podcast: «Облавы» – феномен Таджикистана?”, https://cabar.asia/ru/5-stan-podcast-oblavy-fenomen-tadzhikistana
[31] “Дахшат!!! “Облава” дар Душанбе-2019 ВИДЕО НОВОГО СЛУЧАЯ «ОБЛАВЫ» В ЦЕНТРЕ ДУШАНБЕ!!!!”, April 23, 2019, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ggs3ELlXgXM&feature=youtu.be
[32] “Сезон облав в Таджикистане”, October 11, 2019, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6f-edTx3ON8
[33] ASIA-Plus, September 25, 2020, “Министр обороны Таджикистана поручил не создавать «проблемы» при организации призыва в армию”, https://asiaplustj.info/ru/news/tajikistan/society/20200925/ministr-oboroni-tadzhikistana-poruchil-ne-sozdavat-problemi-pri-organizatsii-priziva-v-armiyu
[34] CABAR, December 3, 2020, “5-Stan Podcast: «Облавы» – феномен Таджикистана?”, https://cabar.asia/ru/5-stan-podcast-oblavy-fenomen-tadzhikistana
[35] Rashid Gabdulhakov, October 2018, “Citizen-Led Justice in Post-Communist Russia: From Comrades’ Courts to Dotcomrade Vigilantism”, Surveillance & Society 16(3):314-331, https://www.researchgate.net/publication/328263842_Citizen-Led_Justice_in_Post-Communist_Russia_From_Comrades’_Courts_to_Dotcomrade_Vigilantism
[36] Daniel Trottier, March 2017, “Digital Vigilantism as Weaponisation of Visibility”, Philosophy & Technology 30(1), https://www.researchgate.net/publication/299577820_Digital_Vigilantism_as_Weaponisation_of_Visibility
[37] Rashid Gabdulhakov, October 2018, “Citizen-Led Justice in Post-Communist Russia: From Comrades’ Courts to Dotcomrade Vigilantism”, Surveillance & Society 16(3):314-331, https://www.researchgate.net/publication/328263842_Citizen-Led_Justice_in_Post-Communist_Russia_From_Comrades’_Courts_to_Dotcomrade_Vigilantism