'The Land of Infinite Variety: Stories and Other Prose' Now Indexed on ProQuest

July 19, 2020 -- The arrival of a first-class envelope at my doorstep here in Portland over the weekend took me back about 10 years. It bore the seal of the university I've attended as a doctoral student for much of that time, and in the corner, the words DIPLOMA—DO NOT BEND. Amid the uncertainties of the global pandemic, like so many other newly-minted scholars and professionals exiting graduate programs in 2020, I'd been waiting for this materialization, some real-world sign of the terminus of my studies. This was it, complete with tissue paper, faux leather, and the digitally-rendered signatures of various officials.

Forget about commencement. The impersonality of the white envelope and its carefully-wrapped contents carried me back, instead, to memories of the Peace Corps and my smoke-filled exit from southern Kyrgyzstan via the Manas Air Base outside Bishkek, which I've narrated in previous posts. (The writer Jia Tolentino, also from K-18, our doomed volunteer class of 2010, has chronicled parallel experiences and argued for agency reforms meant to prevent other kinds of violence.)

Months after the evacuations of many in K-18, an unmarked truck with a U.S. government plate deposited a similarly-shrouded parcel at my doorstep in Fort Collins, Colorado, where I had returned to complete a master's degree in English at Colorado State. Inside the package I found assorted dictionaries, notebooks, travel guides, novels, and dusty personal effects that had survived the looting of the Melon Revolution. In other words, the rhetorical artifacts of my tenure abroad as a university educator—some 100 days of living with host families, preparing to co-teach English with local instructors, and beginning the journey toward fluency in one of Central Asia's dozens of Turkic languages. It had all ended in waves of violence that swept through the Kyrgyz provinces in mid-June 2010, for reasons still not well understood, resulting in hundreds of thousands of families displaced. And some 2,000 deaths—including the reported killing of two fixers hired to ferry my own team of American volunteers out of the chaos of an ancient city in flames.

Writing and reflecting on the broader systems of violence and colonization in which I found myself implicated that summer—and on what it means to arrive "home" in the American West—has taken the better part of a decade. And that work of self-examination (personal, fictive, familial, rhetorical) is far from finished. But this summer, along with my doctoral diploma, I can point to another kind of materiality: the assemblage, in manuscript form, of a book of stories and other prose now available on ProQuest (metadata only, for the near future). Below I'm sharing the abstract and table of contents for The Land of Infinite Variety, and offering thanks to the many generous souls who have guided this work and its author thus far.

For another window into its composition, here is a brief excerpt from my dissertation's artist's statement, which draws in part on a critical review by Patrick Madden, "W. G. Sebald: Where Essay Meets Fiction":

For Madden, then, the essay as a form is not limited to conventional genres of fact. His thought experiment maintains that Sebald’s first three translated “novels” can actually be read as nonfiction, while the fourth, Austerlitz (The Modern Library, 2001) “performs the actions of an essay” (174). In response, I might propose that we place Sebald’s works along a spectrum of essaying as a mode of discourse, rather than unnecessarily divorcing The Emigrants, for example, from the canon of literary fiction by applying the “non” prefix. More generally, however, my work asserts support for Madden’s thesis. Sebald’s and similar volumes of under-recognized “essays”—ranging from Brian Kiteley’s “novel” Still Life with Insects (Graywolf, 1989) to emerging works perhaps best captured in the title essay of Alexander Chee’s How to Write an Autobiographical Novel (Houghton, 2018)—have been remarkably influential in composing certain stories at the heart of Infinite Variety. “The events of your life like an empty field . . . Invent something,” Chee muses, “that fits the shape of what you know,” then tell the story of this thing through “a character like you, but not you” (246). As of late, we find works fitting this mold in almost every kind of experimental fiction. From the lyrical fixations of Lydia Davis and Rita Bullwinkel to wartime cycles such as Phil Klay’s Redeployment (Penguin, 2014). From the New American anthologies of Ben Marcus to Ben Lerner’s The Topeka School (Farrar, 2019), with its chapters culled from essays, autoethnographic stories of therapy, fictionalized memories of high school forensics, and appearances of Duccio’s Madonna and Child, “a real painting,” in places that do not correspond with real time. Such anachronisms, explains Lerner in the back matter, work to signal his social novel’s “unstable mixture of fact and fiction” (285).

Turning to my own work, “A Fictional Essay On or About the 100th Meridian, Alphabetically Arranged,” for example, borrows its title and underlying structure from Dinty W. Moore’s enduring “Son of Mr. Green Jeans: An Essay on Fatherhood, Alphabetically Arranged,” which found its way from Crazyhorse to Harper’s. Moore, also a former journalist, catalogues some two dozen images of fathers (from classic television, the natural world, academia, genetics, and so on), beginning with “Allen, Tim,” then gradually intersecting with more personal entries such as “Vasectomies” (49-52). In my fictional essay’s examination of 26 scenes from a line of demarcation with “great significance” in the American West, an opening section titled “Adventure” introduces the cultural memory of “three fair-skinned, French tourists” paddling southward into the bowels of the high country. Their journey is followed by more personal “Echoes”:

It’s the same storied meridian many American families deserted—propelled less by adventure than desperation—in the year before the voyagers arrived to the land they called the Far-West. Might Antoine’s journal somehow call into question the writer’s own nostalgia for the late frontier—built on his grandfather’s late memories (1928-2013) of the Dakotas? . . . How many echoes, and how much dissonance? What of the parallels in these perpendicular lines of flight? (123)

. . . In this wayward manner, [my] work unfolds with parallels to what Sebald once described to a New Yorker interviewer: “Not even my Ph.D. research was done systematically. It was done in a random, haphazard fashion. The more I got on, the more I felt that, really, one can find something only in that way—in the same way in which, say, a dog runs through a field” (qtd. in Madden 170).

Remembering Osh (Updated)

Volunteers reach the safety of a helicopter in Osh (via "Exit Osh")

Another former Peace Corps volunteer recently based in southern Kyrgyzstan has contributed some thoughtful commentary in response to "Remembering Osh," last weekend's dispatch on the first anniversary of the Central Asian province's interthnic riots.

Along with several of RBM's colleagues whose service ended as a result of the fighting, Peter Andrew Clark went to work -- almost immediately and for months afterward -- on behalf of a Western aid organization operating on the ground in Kyrgyzstan. Clark signed up to coordinate temporary housing in Osh. He now lives in New York and writes, in part:

In June of 2010, the world was reminded of a simple, general reality: Kyrgyz and Uzbek people do not like each other. These woes arise from even more widespread malaise and grief -- both sides feel victimized. Rumors have always spread about economic suppression. Kyrgyz blame Uzbeks; Uzbeks blame Kyrgyz. Kyrgyz villagers blame the rich Uzbek businessmen in Osh city for dishonest business practices. Uzbek businessmen blame the rural, uneducated Kyrgyz farmers for spreading mendacious propaganda thereby ensuring more discord. Unfortunately, these vicious rumors have rooted themselves in the culture to the point where many observers now simply see it as racism.

And on the edges of this problem are most international organizations. There have been international non-governmental organizations (INGOs) in Kyrgyzstan since the fall of the Soviet Union. Some have advised economically. Some have tried to better the dietary habits in rural areas. Some have even worked in the South of the country to prevent ethnic disputes and conflicts. But none of these organizations have integrated quite like Peace Corps. Unique among them all, Peace Corps volunteers, however callow they may seem, work with idealism and hope. The volunteers learn the Kyrgyz language, and oftentimes the Uzbek language, and live with families. The volunteers learn the names of shop owners and shake the hands of every little boy in their village. And unlike most of the other INGOs that function out of the two largest cities of Bishkek and Osh, Peace Corps is inside of the conflicts, often in a very tangible way. And it is from these grassroots efforts that Peace Corps sets itself apart from all other organizations, and it is this freedom to inspire change from the disenfranchised and downtrodden that should rally more support for Peace Corps volunteers.

One of the many criticisms of Peace Corps have been its manipulative bureaucracy (easily traceable to Washington) and the horde of neophytes it brings into the world of international aid. Many reasonable critics have also denounced it as a political arm of the State Department and a vehicle for American interests abroad. One cannot deny the organization's potential for these insidious doings just as it cannot deny the organizations potential for peaceful, cheap and productive change. Ironically, Peace Corps does not handle conflict well. It was not designed to. Peace Corps volunteers seek protracted engagement, dreaming of generational changes, not immediate ones.

So in June of 2010, when conflict erupted in South of Kyrgyzstan, Peace Corps came out and INGOs went in. INGOs offer aid equitably; they document their activities for the world to see; they have plenty of money; and they respect the governments and people for whom they serve. Their efficacy, though, is based entirely on the willingness of the populations to embrace their programs. When providing food and shelter to monoethnic, non-conflict communities, aid provides relief. In a post-conflict situation where the aggravators still live in close proximity to the victims, relief to the victim provides further enmity for the aggravators. INGOs are stopgap solutions, not lasting ones ...

... Peace Corps reaches populations that other organizations would consider statistically irrelevant. INGOs spend a large amount of time writing reports and justifying their actions because their projects need ... maximum impact at all times in order to secure more funding. Peace Corps does not have this issue. In some cases, it will take generations of volunteers before results are produced. And ethnic divide is a waiting game that may require nothing more than perpetual involvement -- no one can really say for sure. And most Peace Corps volunteers work directly with the children that can influence the next generation, subtly asking them to question their role in the world.

The ethnic conflict that so many of these INGOs hope to prevent will take many years of intervention (the expected deployment for many of the large INGOs is one to two years). This violence will probably repeat ten years from now, and maybe ten years after that; but eventually, the children of these children might have peace longer -- maybe fifteen years -- and maybe if a little more time passes, they will start to forget the animosities that caused violence in the first place.

One year later, not much has changed in Kyrgyzstan, but only a fool would have expected otherwise. As many media outlets profess the democratic power of the new government, the country is still plagued by corruption and intolerance. There are dangers still, but there will always be dangers until the collective conscience of Kyrgyzstan reviles racism and all other social ills. This does not mean that the international community should sit on the edges until things get better; this is a call for help.

As with many problems, the answer to how the international community should be involved in Kyrgyzstan is multi-faceted. Should INGOs provide aid? [O]f course. Should Peace Corps keep doing grassroots work? [C]ertainly. Should donors keep sending money into the country, even if it is not always best spent? [Y]es. All of the forces above would benefit from drastic changes to their policies; but in the meantime, they should continue working. Disengagement is the easiest thing to recommend, especially in political and social climates that prefer isolationism and self-determination. But self-determination is not a morally defensible position when people are poor, homeless, and suffering. Different people can solve different problems, and there are enough problems to go around.

RBM: Thanks for writing, Peter. Putting aside the question of INGOs (I agree with most of your analysis there), perhaps our main difference resides in our views of Washington, which I consider Kyrgyzstan's most capable ally in terms of socioeconomic development. Departments of state are indeed -- almost by definition -- manipulative, and in their worst moments, insidious. But next to China, the U.S. is also the Kyrgyz ally with the deepest pockets and best interests at play (other neighboring states and Europe do compete, not always in the latter regard).

Secondly, the power of an individual volunteer is an amazing thing to witness, but in my experience a marooned and ill-equipped volunteer can't go very far toward achieving the kind of literacy and business-related advances that could stop another Osh 2010. And the death of that well-meaning but hastily trained volunteer in the same violence might well end U.S. assistance for political reasons, as we've seen in Somalia, Uzbekistan, and now Yemen, to cite just a few examples. That's basically why I've come to feel, in researching this story, that the Peace Corps as presently configured is the wrong vehicle for empowering communities in southern Kyrgyzstan (the North is perhaps a different story).

Let me be clear: I'm not advocating disengagement. And you're right in that [three fellow volunteers referenced offline, whom I won't name] did become praiseworthy agents of change. But while the deaths of a couple of Kyrgyzstanis acting as American proxies can be quietly dismissed, as I've tried to document here, I shudder to think what the killing of one American last June (much less a group of 10) would have meant for U.S.-Kyrgyzstan relations. Not to mention the Peace Corps worldwide. That said, and as my June 11 post suggests, this doesn't mean that the State Department and its most celebrated agency (I view them as one animal) can't themselves change to adapt to the needs of the country.

Given their fluency and interpersonal skills, and despite your well-founded qualms about economic assistance, I believe [our colleagues] could have been still more effective as volunteers. More effective, that is, if they had been provided the means to buy a dozen Beeline wireless modems for a local nonprofit interested in offering micro loans to farmers, for example. I'm pulling that scenario out of a hat but what I mean to say is that I want to see American aid workers in places like Osh better trained, better resourced and better connected. In two words, if I were speaking to the State Department directly: Think better.

Our aid workers should also be better protected from mayhem by our own military, which could have taken the lead in last June's evacuation. Case in point: a simple GPS unit issued to volunteers might do away with the daily "whereabouts" mess -- a status reporting system based on intermittent mobile service and hand-drawn maps -- that did little to keep the 10 Americans in question away from the epicenter of Osh's chaos.

I realize these priorities could upend the image of a volunteer living a subsistence life alongside her fellow villagers, which does have positive cross-cultural benefits. But again, I don't think that model is realistic in this age and in that province.

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Postscript (July 6, 2011) -- Peace Corps Kyrgyzstan has released a rousing slideshow on behalf of its volunteers, who I'm told combed through some 9,000 digital photos looking for just 20 that help "tell the story of what we do here." The photos will tour the provinces as posters with captions in three languages over the next several months.

Remembering Osh

Evacuation day: June 12, 2010

By R.B. Moreno

As Central Asia watchers the world over have been noting -- see the Associated Press, the BBC, and EurasiaNet, for example -- this weekend marks the first anniversary of a street war that pitted ethnic Kyrgyz (backed by officially unidentified forces supported in turn, perhaps, by a foreign party) against ethnic Uzbeks. The riots left many hundreds of residents of southern Kyrgyzstan dead or wounded.

The AP estimates that almost three-quarters of those killed were Uzbeks -- a minority population that fled en masse from the province of Osh to the Uzbekistan border amidst the violence, only to see several children trampled to death in the panic.

Another group that got the hell out town last June: the U.S. Peace Corps. As I wrote one year ago via NPR.org, I was among 10 American aid workers evacuated from Osh by way of hired cars, a maddeningly uncoordinated military convoy, and an Mi-8, the camouflaged gunship pictured above (the same photo has been previously published).

Two boys take cover from gunfire below my apartment window in Osh

It's hard to find words appropriate for this kind of anniversary. In reading other commemorations, what seems generally true is that an uneasy peace has settled on Osh. The fires that ravaged whole neighborhoods have been extinguished. The dead have been buried -- sometimes, again, en masse. Students have returned to scorched schoolyards. And farmers and shopkeepers have slowly reoccupied the city's vast, once-bustling bazaar.

But with the spring thaw, the foundation of trust that had finally begun to solidify two decades after 1990, the year that saw Osh's last interethnic slaughter, has dissolved.

"Many Uzbeks seem glumly resigned, focusing on rebuilding their homes and trying not to get drawn into arguments over who was to blame for the violence," observes the AP. "Speaking in her partly reconstructed house in one of the worst-hit Uzbek neighborhoods, 57-year old Mokhidil Ganyzhanova says things have quieted down. But she despairs at how little she feels the government is doing to restore people's livelihoods."

Meanwhile, and with irony fit for a Russian tragedy, "deputies are bogged down in heated debates over who [bears] responsibility -- Uzbek 'separatists,' Islamists, loyalists to former President Kurmanbek Bakiyev," reports EurasiaNet's Alisher Khamidov. In Bishkek, "few seem willing to look at the complexities of ethnic relations in southern Kyrgyzstan."

Those complexities were on full display last June as I waved goodbye to Ms. Jashyrova, my host, a woman about Ms. Ganyzhanova's age, and ducked into one of the cars the State Department hired to get its personnel to a safe house.

An English teacher with twinkling eyes and an indomitable telephone, Ms. Jashyrova (I'm using a pseudonym) had over the previous 24 hours received word of a Kyrgyz nephew dying in the fighting, and more chillingly, a mob of ethnic Uzbeks attacking a number of Kyrgyz girls at a dormitory. (That rumor was later proven false; instead, a fight between dueling gangs at a casino likely sparked the 2010 riots.)

"Why did they go out?" Ms. Jashyrova demanded of the rioters. "Teachers, farmers: we just want to work. Who suffers? Ordinary people!"

I've corresponded infrequently with Ms. Jashyrova over the past year. In the fall, a shipment of undisturbed books and papers arrived to my apartment in Colorado, having been turned over to the Peace Corps by the same woman who insisted on cataloging her every purchase at Osh's bazaar on my behalf (e.g. "2 kg potato; 0.5 kg tomato; 1 kg cucumber; 1 cabbage; 3 bunches of herbs; 2 types of noodles; 1 kg rice").

In her last letter, Ms. Jashyrova writes of moving to her family's village in the countryside -- not only to help with the harvest but to avoid further unrest, I imagine -- and of the brickwork shower that her husband has built in the cherry orchard.

"We tried hard to make its walls high taking into consideration your height," she explains, adding "we all hope that you will come one day."

I do intend to return to Osh one day. In the meantime, I've been searching for answers to the region's perennial violence. And I've been contemplating the role of the Peace Corps, as presently configured, in that environment. More concretely, this involves interviewing former Kyrgyzstan volunteers, writing essays, and researching a nonfiction manuscript about the months I spent there. (It's currently titled Zen and the Art of Conquest and based in part on Robert Pirsig's travelogue of a similar name.)

In sum, I'm asking questions about the value of young, inexperienced volunteers in an enchanting but volatile country -- one that's deposed three autocrats in two decades and trafficked countless tons of Afghan heroin to Russia and Europe. Neighboring Uzbekistan's Peace Corps program ended in 2005 under similarly violent circumstances (even as a pilot program in Mexico, a drug transit territory often compared to Kyrgyzstan, was launching).

In drafting this manuscript, apart from the bloodletting, which seems uncharacteristic of Kyrgyzstanis like Ms. Jashyrova, there's something very particular I have trouble reconciling. I'm just as perturbed, that is, by the deaths of two hired drivers that I described in "Exit Osh." By what twist of fate did American aid workers deserve to escape unharmed, I asked in that post, while others perished in the evacuation? I'm still not sure.

Secretary Rice addresses Colorado State University on April 19, 2011

I tried to put a similar query to former Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice in April, at a public lecture here in Fort Collins, Colo., that has in past years hosted the likes of Madeleine Albright, Mikhail Gorbachev, and Greg Mortenson. But Colorado State University, whose unique Master's International partnership sent me to Kyrgyzstan and whose professor emeritus Maurice Albertson helped found the Peace Corps, declined to put the question to the secretary.

The university invited questions via social networks

A staff member at the university's Department of Public Relations "does remember your question," one official told me in an e-mail, "and although it was a good question, it was determined there were others that had a more direct connection to Dr. Rice." More importantly, does Colorado State have a position on the role of Peace Corps volunteers serving in volatile countries such as Kyrgyzstan, I wanted to know? As to that question, "the university does not have an official position," the e-mail concludes, suggesting I contact Washington for comment.

Washington, by some accounts, wasn't pleased when "Exit Osh" was posted on June 15. Other, more politicized narratives about our evacuation were causing the most angst at the State Department and the Pentagon that Tuesday, but as my dual role as a volunteer and a journalist wouldn't conclude until July, I faced something of a dilemma. News outlets reading the post -- such as NPR, CNN, and the BBC -- wanted interviews; the Peace Corps, by contrast, suddenly told every volunteer in Kyrgyzstan to go dark. And going dark, our supervisors explained in a meeting at the NATO base outside Bishkek where we had relocated, meant pulling offline anything we had written about Osh.

Of course, as the Arab Spring demonstrates, that kind of blackout isn't feasible given today's Internet. I followed orders, as did other volunteers, but "Exit Osh" had already been republished by NPR, which sent a correspondent to southern Kyrgyzstan in the days following the riots, and I wasn't inclined to ask the network to take down its own post. (Full disclosure: I worked as a producer for NPR between 2004 and 2008.) Two weeks later, when I arrived home by way of Beijing and Seattle, I republished my own accounts of my experience in Osh.

It's easy to shower criticism on the Peace Corps, considering the circumstances I've described. But I'm trying in Zen and the Art of Conquest to avoid that gesture, because worldwide and in Central Asia, the agency gets it right more often that it gets it wrong. My colleague Jia Tolentino made that clear in a recent New York Times op-ed, and my Facebook friends' pictures of kids playing baseball in snowy Naryn Province, taking standardized tests in Talas, and learning to swim in Lake Issyk Kul tell an even better story.

Still -- and this isn't easy to say -- given Kyrgyzstan's geopolitics, the hired men killed last year, and the two carloads of panicked, mostly greenhorn Americans nearly gunned down amidst my evacuation, I'm not sure today's Peace Corps is right for Kyrgyzstan. It certainly doesn't belong in provinces like Osh and Jalal-Abad, where the agency will no doubt attempt to return in the coming years.

So what is American development work in Central Asia supposed to look like, skeptics will ask?

Although Rice's April lecture didn't address Kyrgyzstan, she did point toward policy options in this arena worth considering. In response to a question about military contractors, for example, the secretary praised the efforts of the U.S. military's Provincial Reconstruction Teams as well as the prospect of a "national civilian corps" whose expertise might help rebuild fragile states.

I'm heartened, too, by the poise and potential exhibited by veteran volunteers like Fritz and Ginger Morrison and Ted Trautman, now a journalist who returned to Osh this spring to assess conditions there. The challenge, assuming proper backing in Washington, would be to channel the expertise of this cohort into unarmed but more nimble, better trained, and highly equipped development teams that might have avoided the kind of debacle I witnessed last June.

Finding funding for such a venture shouldn't be difficult. The U.S. spent $20 million on last year's parliamentary contests in Kyrygyzstan. "In the run-up to the presidential elections that are going to take place this fall, we’re likely to do something very similar to support the actual process of the elections and the mechanics of democracy," newly installed Ambassador Pamela Spratlen told public radio last week. That ought to be a story the State Department won't want to darken.

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Postscript (June 19, 2011) -- Another former Peace Corps volunteer recently based in southern Kyrgyzstan has contributed comments on "Remembering Osh." My response, in part: "I realize these priorities could upend the image of a volunteer living a subsistence life alongside her fellow villagers, which does have positive cross-cultural benefits. But again, I don't think that model is realistic in this age and in that province."

Relief for Osh

Slideshow: Relief for Osh

Above: U.S. Peace Corps workers, tourists, journalists, security guards, and other volunteers at Manas International Airport load a Russian cargo plane with relief supplies bound for Osh, Kyrgyzstan, on June 19. In the hold, thanks to local and international donations: flour, rice, potatoes, sugar, cooking oil, and dishware.

Kyrgyzstan Analysis Roundup (Updated)

From Foreign Policy, on June 14, "Trouble Down South: Why did Kyrgyzstan suddenly erupt into violence?" An excerpt:

The Uzbek minority is largely excluded from Kyrgyzstan's political system, though they dominate the country's merchant class. Disputes over water and land use between the Uzbeks and Kyrgyz are common in the south. The Soviet Union spent decades trying unsuccessfully to suppress ethnic nationalism in the area and in 1990, when the Soviet military was unable to put a stop to a three-month-long inter-ethnic battle between Uzbeks and Kyrgyz in Osh that resulted in hundreds of deaths, it was taken as a sign of Moscow's diminished power over its regions.

From the Telegraph, on June 17, "Kyrgyzstan: Death, dictators and the Soviet legacy." An excerpt:

It would be wrong to characterise the violence in Kyrgyzstan as politically motivated. Ancient ethnic tensions and stereotypes have come to the fore, and poverty is the root cause. But at the same time it is broadly true that the Uzbeks of the south generally support Otunbayeva, while their southern Kyrgyz attackers do not. Bakiyev supporters have played some role in stirring up the violence.

From the Times, on June 18, "Diplomatic Memo: Value to Big Powers May Not Save Kyrgyzstan." An excerpt:

Now, Kyrgyzstan needs help building a stable government that knits together the north and the south. Dmitri V. Trenin, director of the Carnegie Moscow Center, suggested that NATO should be working with the members of the Collective Security Treaty Organization to develop a mechanism for collective action. The next time a Central Asian country is wobbling at the edge of a precipice, he said, someone must be prepared to accept responsibility.

From the Post, on June 21, "Both sides in Kyrgyzstan fault government for failing to prevent violence." An excerpt:

At the front of the crowd was Kadyrzhan Batyrov, a prominent Uzbek politician, businessman and university chief who argued that Bakiyev's ouster meant Uzbeks would finally get the political rights they deserved. After recapturing the building, the throng marched to the Bakiyev family compound in Jalal-Abad and burned it down.

Witnesses said Kyrgyz and Uzbeks stood side by side in the crowd. But Bakiyev's supporters framed the conflict in ethnic terms and painted Batyrov as a radical Uzbek nationalist, tapping into fears among local Kyrgyz that Uzbeks might gain too much power and attempt to secede.

From The Economist, on June 24, "Kyrgyzstan's humanitarian crisis: Sad homecoming." An excerpt:

[Ethnic-Uzbek] women are now trickling back to their husbands, fathers, and brothers, who stayed behind to protect their homes—or what is left of them. Many houses were burned down, sometimes with their residents still in them. Now they have to go back and attempt to pick up their lives again, side-by-side with their ethnic-Kyrgyz persecutors.

From The Nation, on June 25, "Kyrgyzstan on the Brink." An excerpt:

Unaddressed stereotypes have allowed tensions between Kyrgyz and Uzbeks to fester ever since the only previously reported conflict between the two groups, in 1990. These typecasts were a breeding ground for the surge of rumors—spread by Internet chat rooms, text messages and word of mouth—that helped provoke the attacks: “Uzbek men raped a group of Kyrgyz girls”; “young men brawled over a restaurant bill”; “Uzbeks, in their efforts to declare autonomy, had armed themselves.”

But frictions between the two groups aren’t the result of some ancient ethnic hatred. They have waxed and waned for only a generation, as local elites, manipulating economic grievances, vie for control of resources. In recent times, that has meant Afghan heroin. In place of a functioning state, southern Kyrgyzstan has become a network of trafficking routes controlled by narco-barons and their extended families.

From the Times, on June 26, "After Kyrgyz Unrest, a Question Lingers: Why?" An excerpt:

Last week the head of the country’s national security agency issued a statement saying that the younger son of Mr. Bakiyev, Maksim Bakiyev, had hired Islamic radicals from the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan, a group with ties to the Taliban, to infiltrate Uzbek neighborhoods and stoke conflict. The statement said the Islamic radicals fired rifles at civilians and then hid, only to reappear in other areas.

Reinforcing the message of external instigation, on Thursday an airplane flew over Bishkek dropping leaflets warning that “provocateurs” could foment ethnic violence in the capital, too, though the streets remained calm.

From RFE/RL, on June 30, "How Strong Is Kyrgyzstan's New Constitution?" An excerpt:

The challenge for Kyrgyzstan now will be to go far beyond simply writing a new constitution to developing the whole body of institutions and public expectations which assure a constitution is upheld and guides a society.

As Kyrgyzstan took its first step this week, Russian President Dmitry Medvedev gave it a dubious send-off. He told reporters at the G20 summit in Toronto that he did "not really understand how a parliamentary republic would look and work in Kyrgyzstan."

Medvedev asked, "Will this not lead to a chain of eternal problems -- to reshuffles in parliament, to the rise to power of this or that political group, to authority being passed constantly from one hand to another, and, finally will this not help those with extremist views to power?"

Put another way, the same question would be: Are not parliamentary systems, though a proven success in democratic countries, doomed to failure in the post-Soviet space?

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Update (July 7, 2010) -- From the Times, on July 2, "Uzbeks Accused of Inciting Violence in Kyrgyzstan." Two excerpts:

The arrests are based on a section of the Kyrgyz criminal code that bans inciting ethnic hatred, after the ethnic Uzbek leaders accused the police and army of instigating and in some cases participating in the original violence ... Azimzhan Askarov, an ethnic Uzbek and the director of a human rights group in the town of Bazar-Kurgan, was arrested on this charge, according to his lawyer, Nurbek Toktokunov, who said Mr. Askarov had bruises on his back suggesting he had been tortured in custody.

From RFE/RL, on July 2, "Kyrgyzstan: Anatomy Of A Conflict." An excerpt:

The latest round of fighting in Osh began in the predawn hours of June 10-11, when two youth gangs -- one Kyrgyz and one Uzbek -- were gambling in a local casino. Each accused the other of cheating and a scuffle broke out. The fighting spilled out onto the street as reinforcements on both sides -- alerted by text messages -- joined the brawl. Rumors quickly spread -- which were later debunked in a Human Rights Watch report -- that an Uzbek mob raped as many as 12 Kyrgyz girls and killed three at a nearby dormitory. The false reports stoked Kyrgyz anger as mobs took to the streets to exact revenge.

From NPR, on July 4, "Trust, And Answers, Elusive In Post-Riot Kyrgyzstan." An excerpt:

As a journalist covering a conflict, I'm supposed to offer more than stories of suffering. I'm supposed to get answers, and the truth. In Kyrgyzstan so far, that's been painfully impossible.

From EurasiaNet, on July 6, "In Osh, Easier to Dig Up Corpses Than Truth." Two excerpts:

Armed young men guarded that Cheremushki street corner, stopping and searching cars. They were a jumpy mix of military conscripts and police ... My colleague and I pleaded with them to give us access: “Officials [i.e. you] keep telling us [Western journalists] to report both sides of the story. Here is an opportunity. Please let us past.” Each recklessly gripped his Kalashnikov – “please stop pointing that at my belly” – and dithered, scared of his seniors, uncertain of his own place in the hazy chain of command.

Eventually, we flagged down a senior officer. He explained that Kyrgyz police had died in the conflict, too, and let us through.

And from RFE/RL, on July 7, "Rising Nationalism Threatens Kyrgyzstan." An excerpt:

Almazbek Atambaev doesn't want people to talk about that. In his sprawling office in parliament, the interim government's dapper deputy prime minister -- a top candidate to lead the country as a possible future prime minister -- criticizes Western journalists for reporting about the overwhelming number of Uzbek deaths.

"We won't allow divisions in our society," he replies when asked to clarify the figures.

Exit Osh (Updated)

Volunteers reach the safety of a helicopter in Osh

By R.B. Moreno

I came to Central Asia to teach English, live among local people, and tell their stories. So this life in a compound near Bishkek that offers Gatorade and cable TV feels a bit unnerving. For the second time in as many months, I find myself behind barbed wire, along with other U.S. Peace Corps volunteers evacuated from provinces rocked by what newspapers have called ethnic cleansing. Our exit from Osh, Kyrgyzstan’s jewel of the South, says something about what is happening there.

Over two days, ten aid workers gathered in safe houses on both sides of the conflict. When our food ran low, neighbors smuggled us bread and tea and refused to be compensated. But others sent rocks through our windows and demanded bribes. And all the while, bands of young, ethnic Kyrgyz, enraged by rumors of students having been raped, terrorized the streets around us. They ransacked Uzbek apartments. They torched markets and restaurants. They burned vehicles, piled them into barricades, and shot at those trying to escape the city. By night, gunfire and screaming mixed with thunderclaps.

At last two hired cars arrived to get us to an airfield. The drivers wore bandanas; one carried a hatchet, another a hunting rifle. But there was confusion about where to rendezvous with another convoy. And so for 20 long minutes we sat exposed on burning Lenin Street. Smoke and sirens hung in the air. Rioters sped past carrying metal pipes, even a bow and arrow. Most of our cell phones didn’t work. Every time I shifted my legs, the volunteer pinned beneath me became asphyxiated. Another suggested running headlong toward a city park.

Presently, a dark sedan cruised by, pulled a U-turn, and came back for another look. Inside were three masked men and a Kalashnikov. This is what the trigger man wanted to know: Were there Uzbeks behind our tinted glass? “If any of you are Uzbeks we will kill you all,” he cried. No, no, just Americans, said the man with the hatchet. Show me, said the trigger man. And so my door was yanked open, and the trigger man raised his gun. For a moment we locked eyes – his glittering, angry, undecided. “No Uzbeks!” I repeated in Kyrgyz, my voice catching. Then the sedan's engine roared, and they were gone.

Minutes later we boarded a bus and began to roll slowly, behind a tank, through neighborhoods whose destruction we had only glimpsed earlier. Some passengers gasped at the shells of nightclubs, warehouses, and other landmarks now reduced to ashes. But other foreign nationals sitting alongside us – from Denmark and France, among other places – looked ecstatic. As if by magic, we were quitting what had become, overnight, a godforsaken place.

It wasn’t over yet. At the entrance to the airfield, another face-off, this time with scores of men agitating for weapons and furious about our convoy. Shouted questions filled the air. Who’s aboard the bus? Are they taking pictures? Rocks and sticks began to pelt our windows.

“Just smile at them,” said one woman. Instead, we cowered on the floor. And then the unthinkable happened: guns snatched from nervous troops huddled aboard the tank.

This is it, I thought to myself. What will a bullet feel like?

“I love you,” said another woman next to me, to her friend. Both began to cry.

A long volley rang out. But we could feel no pain. By some miracle these were warning shots, aimed at the clouds. Again an engine roared. And we were through.

As two helicopters lifted us skyward and circled Sulayman Mountain, a barren rock ringed by a cemetery that juts skyward from the middle of Osh, the scene became apocalyptic. Towers of black smoke marked Uzbek neighborhoods engulfed in flames. Much of the Cheremushki district appeared to have vanished. Some buildings glowed orange; others collapsed as we passed over head. Pushing north, with the sun setting, Osh became a terrible blur on the horizon.

It’s been three days since our evacuation, and for some, a creeping sense of guilt has begun to build. It comes in the form of a question no counselor can satisfactorily answer: By what twist of fate did we deserve to escape such carnage, while others perished? Two of the drivers who ferried us between safe houses, I'm told, were shot or beaten to death. Some 100,000 refugees have streamed west to safety in Uzbekistan, only to have the border shut and some of their children trampled in a stampede.

Calls to friends in Osh tell of still more suffering: empty food stalls at the bazaar; snipers picking off Uzbeks from atop Sulayman Mountain; a mother seven months pregnant dying of thirst on a rooftop; a Pakistani student, mistaken for an Uzbek, shot and beaten to death in the street. Although the official death toll stands at 138, locals tell of hundreds already buried and more bodies yet to recover.

“I wish I could have pushed some magic button that would have saved everyone,” one volunteer told me yesterday. “I can take no pride in having been evacuated.”

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Postscript (July 1, 2010) -- After being removed temporarily at the request of the U.S. Peace Corps, this post has been republished. Excerpts are also available at NPR's blog.

Osh News Roundup (Updated)

From the Times, "Kyrgyz Rioting Spreads in Apparent Ethnic Violence." The story is currently leading Google News. An excerpt:

The official death toll from four days of clashes neared 100 people, though the unrest seemed so widespread that the figure is likely to go far higher. Reports from the region said bands of ethnic Kyrgyz were seeking out Uzbeks, setting fire to their homes and killing them.

Thousands of Uzbeks have fled to the nearby border with Uzbekistan, and the authorities were said to have lost control of Osh, Kyrgyzstan’s second largest city.

On Saturday, the fragile Kyrgyz provisional government asked neighboring Russia to send in peacekeeping troops, but Russia, which has a small military base in the north and has been a political patron of this former Soviet republic, said only that it would consider the request.

From the BBC, "Deadly ethnic unrest escalates in southern Kyrgyzstan." Excerpts:

Witnesses speak of armed Kyrgyz men shooting ethnic Uzbeks and setting property alight.

Thousands of ethnic Uzbeks have been fleeing the city of Osh, where a BBC correspondent reports hearing gunfire ... Kyrgyzstan's interim government extended a state of emergency to cover the entire southern Jalalabad region, as ethnic clashes spread there from neighbouring Osh.

President Kurmanbek Bakiyev, who was ousted in April and now lives in Belarus, has denied accusations from the government that he is involved in the unrest.

Without international assistance there are fears the interim authorities in Kyrgyzstan will struggle to contain the conflict.

Finally, from CNN, "Armed ethnic clashes rage in Kyrgyzstan." This story cites the highest death toll yet. An excerpt:

Armed groups are fighting each other for control of the main hospital in Jalal-Abad, Kyrgyzstan, Russia Today reported, as ethnic clashes continue in the strategically important central Asian country.

At least 80 people have been killed and more than 1,000 injured since Thursday, Kyrgyz and Russian news agencies reported, citing health ministry officials.

According to one report, the numbers were much higher. Local officials in Osh, the city worst affected by the violence, said at least 500 ethnic Uzbeks had been killed, according to Ferghana.ru, an independent news agency. CNN has not independently confirmed the number of dead.

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Update (10:45 AM, June 14, 2010) -- From Xinhua, "Russia sends troopers to Kyrgyzstan to protect Russian facilities: Interfax." An excerpt:

A battalion of Russian troopers have been sent to Kyrgyzstan to protect the Russian facilities in the Kant military base, Interfax news agency reported on Sunday.

Three Ilyushin Il-76 military cargo aircraft, carrying humanitarian aids and the paratroopers from the 31st landing brigade of the Russian Air-Borne Force, have landed at the Russian air base on Sunday afternoon, a military source told Interfax.

"The task of the battalion is to guard Russian military facilities and guarantee the security of Russian servicemen and their families," the source said.

The battalion was transferred to Kant air base due to the aggravation of the situation in south Kyrgyzstan, he added.

The paratroopers were armed with regular small arms and ammunition, and took the necessary food supplies, the source noted.

And from the WSJ, "Kyrgyzstan Violence Threatens Region." An excerpt:

Ethnic violence flared out of control in this strategically important Central Asian country on Sunday, threatening to destabilize what has been a conduit for troops and supplies for the U.S.-led war in Afghanistan.

Kyrgyzstan's government, for the first time since the country declared independence in 1991, appealed to Russia for help in restoring order. The Kremlin responded by saying it was sending 300 paratroopers—but only to protect its own military base near Bishkek, far from the fighting in the country's south. Russia otherwise appears wary of being drawn into the Kyrgyz conflict.

Kyrgyzstan's own security forces have failed to contain a rising tide of ethnic violence in the south, where more than 100 people have been killed since fighting began Thursday night, according to the country's health ministry. The officials say the death toll could be considerably higher, as the current count includes only the dead at hospitals and morgues.

Around 75,000 people have now fled fighting into neighboring Uzbekistan, Russia's official news agency said, citing the Uzbek government.

Ethnic clashes — mainly of Kyrgyz attacking Uzbek minorities — spread Sunday through Kyrgyzstan's second-largest province, Jalal-Abad, government officials said. Crowds were setting fire to Uzbek homes and businesses, according to local news reports.

The ferocity of the fighting heightens fears of wider havoc in Central Asia, whose hitherto peaceful former Soviet republics have been a base for resupply of the U.S.-led war in Afghanistan. The State Department Sunday called for a quick restoration of peace and order, and endorsed efforts by the United Nations and the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe to find a solution.

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Postscript (July 1, 2010) -- After being removed temporarily at the request of the U.S. Peace Corps, this post has been republished. According to Kyrgyzstan's president, the death toll from the violence in Osh likely exceeded 2,000. Please see current updates elsewhere on this blog.

Osh Riots, Day Two (Updated)

By R.B. Moreno

It's early afternoon and I've moved to a safe house in another part of Osh where a number of American aid workers have gathered. The drive here, in a word, was harrowing: gangs of men with clubs guarding road blocks fashioned from felled trees and torched cars; others trying to forcibly enter apartment complexes. It's unclear who is in charge of the city, but cannon fire can be heard from our vantage as well as helicopters patrolling overhead. An evacuation plan is being developed; I'll update with more as I can.

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Update (2:00 AM, June 13, 2010) -- With help from local security forces and a commendable coordination effort from headquarters staff, our group has evacuated from Osh. We are safe now in a compound near Bishkek, but our thoughts remain with our Kyrgyz and Uzbek colleagues in the South. Tonight these families cope with interethnic violence that at last count had claimed close to 80 lives and wounded nearly 1,000 (see updates below).

Inside our safe house, a barrier is erected to expel rocks and firebombs

As we made our way to a helicopter today our convoy was met repeatedly with vigilantes brandishing everything from bows and arrows to Kalashnikovs. Later, aerial views of neighborhoods in flames and a skyline blackened with smoke suggested the death toll will rise much higher.

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Postscript (July 1, 2010) -- After being removed temporarily at the request of the U.S. Peace Corps, this post has been republished.

The View from Osh

Out my window, a farmer pauses to listen to a firefight

By R.B. Moreno

It's been nearly a day since predawn text messages brought news that renewed fighting had broken out on Osh streets and in surrounding villages. The unrest quickly spread to neighborhoods including mine, whose location can't be named here for security reasons. Wire services report as many as 37 people killed and over 500 wounded, many from bullet wounds; already this is half the number who died in Bishkek in April. Local TV channels have aired pictures of students being evacuated from dormitories on buses, as well as interviews with officials from Kyrgyzstan's Health and Interior ministries, some of whom stated that the city is now back under control. That does not appear to be the case, at least locally.

As I write this post the popping and booming of gunfire and cannons can be heard through an open window, along with the rattle of Chinese firecrackers lit by teenagers looking to add to the mayhem. Few cars have taken to the streets today; those that do motor past at high speeds. Gas lines have been cut. Along one avenue a steady stream of pedestrians, mostly young men, could be seen moving downtown. Columns of smoke later rose from that direction, then dissipated. Shouts from mobs occasionally waft skyward. Still, for some Osh residents, including the neighbor pictured above, life carries on.

For another man close to the family I am staying with, life has ended. The jangle of a telephone, just minutes ago, brought word that a 27-year-old nephew of my host, whom I'll call Ms. Jashyrova, has died in the fighting. This news shook a woman whose stately features and ebony hair rarely lose composure. "I told my sister, keep your children at home!" she protested, raising her hands toward our dining room ceiling. I met this nephew's mother recently at a reunion that had both sisters chatting in whispers for hours on end. The victim's father passed away years ago, just before his birth, and so the son's Kyrgz name carried that fact. As the youngest child, he would have been expected to care for his mother, who now must lean on aging Ms. Jashyrova and other siblings. (At one time they numbered 15.)

As tonight's curfew descends and combat helicopters orbit the city, the reasons for this family's loss remain obscured. Wire reports mention a brawl breaking out Thursday evening on Osh's main thoroughfare and a number of damaged properties owned by ethnic Uzbeks. (Other property owners have also suffered losses.) But Ms. Jashyrova prefers to think today's events were coordinated by Uzbek enclaves themselves. Then again, maybe it was a reminder from God. Kyrgyzstan's people, she points out, were also rocked by an earthquake Thursday.

"Why did they go out?" she demands of the rioters, and again of the ceiling. "Teachers, farmers: we just want to work. Who suffers? Ordinary people!"

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Postscript (July 1, 2010) -- After being removed temporarily at the request of the U.S. Peace Corps, this post has been republished.

Kyrgyzstan News Roundup (Updated)

By R.B. Moreno

A series of gun battles have begun overnight here in Osh. I can hear periodic reports of different calibers, including automatic weaponry, coming from southern and western parts of the city. But the trilling of grasshoppers and a nearby lightening storm are making the clashes hard to distinguish from Mother Nature.

In other news, a moderate earthquake centered hundreds of miles to the southeast shook my apartment for a long minute Thursday morning. More now from the wires, which have not yet picked up the fighting.

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Postscript (July 1, 2010) -- After being removed temporarily at the request of the U.S. Peace Corps, this post has been republished. According to Kyrgyzstan's president, the death toll from the violence in Osh likely exceeded 2,000. Please see current updates elsewhere on this blog.

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From CNN, "Earthquake hits border region of China, Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan." Its report:

A moderate earthquake rattled far-western China on Thursday, near its border with Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan, the U.S. Geological Survey reported.

The magnitude 5.6 quake hit southern Xinjiang province and was centered about 120 kilometers, or 75 miles, west-northwest of Kashi.

There were no immediate reports of casualties or damage.

The Xinjiang region is seismically active. In March 2008, a powerful 7.2 magnitude quake hit a remote area of the region, followed by a series of moderate to light quakes.

And from UPI, "Bishkek disbands political police force." An excerpt:

The provisional Interior Ministry will no long monitor opposition groups in Kyrgyzstan, interim leaders said Thursday from Bishkek.

A statement from acting Interior Minister Bolot Sher said provisional leaders signed a measure to disband a political police force, Russia's state-run news agency RIA Novosti reports.

"From now on, the interior ministry will not monitor oppositional sentiment in connection with the analysis of the social-political situation," the statement said.

Bishkek had established an interior police force to monitor religious extremism and terrorist ideology in the country. RIA Novosti said the force was busy keeping tabs on "untrustworthy" politicians and opposition groups, however.

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Update (11:15 AM, June 11, 2010) -- From the AP, "Twelve killed in new wave of unrest in Kyrgyzstan." Excerpts:

Witnesses in Osh, the country's second-largest city, reported hearing sustained gunfire late Thursday. Local media also reported that gangs of young men armed with sticks and stones smashed shop windows and set cars alight in the center.

Health Ministry spokeswoman Yelena Bailinova said 12 people have been killed and more than 120 injured. Many of the injured were being treated for gunshot wounds, she said.

Interim authorities swiftly declared a state of emergency in the city and dispatched armored vehicles and troops to the city in a bid to pacify the situation.

But local residents said shooting continued into the morning and helicopters were flying low overhead. Several buildings across the city were on fire ... It is unclear what caused the latest round of unrest, but local Kyrgyz media have reported that a brawl broke out late Thursday evening on the city's main thoroughfare.

One Osh resident told The Associated Press that he heard a 10-minute-long burst of gunfire shortly past midnight. Local media said they received reports of firing throughout the night.

Osh, which lies on the fringes of the volatile Ferghana Valley, has a large Uzbek minority and a history of ethnic violence. There seemed to be no clear evidence that the violence was provoked by ethnic tensions, however.

Russian news agency Interfax reported that seven armored personnel vehicles carrying soldiers drove into the center early Friday.

The interim government has declared a state of emergency in Osh and surrounding districts that will remain in effect until June 20. A curfew has been imposed from 8 p.m to 6 a.m.

In an emotional televised address Friday, interim President Roza Otunbayeva called for a return to calm.

"I would like to appeal in particular to the women of Kyrgyzstan. Dear sisters, find the right words for your sons, husbands and brothers. In the current situation, it is unacceptable to indulge in feelings of revenge and anger," she said.

From RFE/RL, "12 Reported Dead In Kyrgyz Clashes." An excerpt:

The deaths were reported as the country's interim authorities declared a state of emergency in the city of Osh and sent in troops and armored vehicles to quell violence reportedly involving rival groups of youths.

A Health Ministry spokesman is quoted as saying 12 people have been killed and 126 hospitalized with injuries.

Reports say 1,000 or more people were involved in the violence, with groups of youths reported fighting, smashing windows, looting shops and setting fires to cars. Some reports have linked the violence to ethnic conflicts between Kyrgyz and Uzbeks in the region.

The interim government announced that the state of emergency was in force for Osh and three neighboring districts -- Karassu, Arava and Uzgen -- and would last until at least June 20.

Authorities have also imposed a nighttime curfew in the region.

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Update (4:00 PM, June 11, 2010) -- From the BBC, "Deadly clashes in Kyrgyzstan's southern city of Osh." Excerpts:

At least 17 people have been killed in clashes in Kyrgyzstan's second-largest city of Osh, health ministry officials say.

At least 200 people were also injured when hundreds of youths fought in the streets of the southern city.

Officials say a state of emergency has been declared and armoured vehicles have been sent to the city.

The interim government has been struggling to restore order after a violent uprising in April.

Since then, there have been fears of an upsurge in violence between Kyrgyz and ethnic Uzbeks in the south.

Osh is home to a large ethnic Uzbek community, and is the power-base of the ousted president, Kurmanbek Bakiyev.

According to local reports, fighting broke out between rival gangs and developed into gun battles.

Reports from Osh said that a number of buildings, including cafes, a local TV channel and a theatre were ablaze ... It is not clear who is behind the violence.

It appears that the majority of the properties belonged to ethnic Uzbeks.

Firefighters tried to put out the fires, but angry youths reportedly threw rocks to prevent them doing their job.

Residents say the shooting continued into Friday morning and that helicopters were flying low overhead.

However, an Interior Ministry spokesman said the shooting had stopped and that the city was now under the control of the security forces.

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Update (9:00 PM, June 11, 2010) -- From AFP, "Ethnic clashes in south Kyrgyzstan leave 37 dead." Its report:

Thirty-seven people have been killed and more than 500 wounded during ethnic violence in southern Kyrgyzstan, a health ministry spokesman told AFP on Friday.

"Thirty-seven people have now died," as a result of the ongoing violence in the southern city of Osh, a health ministry spokesman said.

Kyrgyzstan's provisional government led by Roza Otunbayeva has struggled to impose order on the volatile Central Asian state since seizing control during riots that ousted President Kurmanbek Bakiyev earlier this year.

Witnesses said brawls had broken out between ethnic Kyrgyz and ethnic Uzbek groups in Osh, once the stronghold of Bakiyev.

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Update (2:00 AM, June 13, 2010) -- From AFP, "Kyrgyzstan government authorises deadly force to stem unrest." An excerpt:

The decision was taken "in connection with the ongoing clashes of ethnic groups with the use of lethal weapons, and an increasing number of victims among the civilian population," the government said in a statement.

Lethal force will now be authorised in order to repel attacks against police and the military, stop the destruction of government and private property and to protect civilians, the decree said.

The clashes have left 77 dead and almost 1,000 wounded.

From the AP, "Russia won't immediately send troops to Kyrgyzstan." An excerpt:

The Kremlin says it won't immediately send Russian troops to Kyrgyzstan, which has asked Moscow for military assistance to help quell ethnic violence.

But Russian President Dmitry Medvedev's spokeswoman, Natalya Timakova, said Saturday that Russia would offer humanitarian assistance and help evacuate those wounded in rampages that swept Kyrgyzstan's second-largest city of Osh.

Photo of the Day

Some disquieting signage on Avia Traffic Company Flight 179 to Osh, Kyrgyzstan.