Kazakhstan has long been criticized for its poor record on media freedom, especially in regard to political reporting. According to Reporters Without Borders’ 2025 World Press Freedom Index, Kazakhstan ranks 141th out of 180 countries.
When President Kassym-Jomart Tokayev cryptically alluded to “those who seek to destabilize Kazakhstan’s internal tranquility” at the 34th session of the Assembly of the People of Kazakhstan on April 24, activists and journalists interpreted the statement as yet another chilling signal.
The Assembly, established in 1995 to promote interethnic harmony, is officially presented as an advisory body. But some argue it serves as a top-down tool to manage ethnic relations and reinforce state messaging on unity and stability which is often the pretext for pressure on media.
A troubling pattern had already emerged before Tokayev’s remarks.
On the evening of April 10, police detained independent journalist Lukpan Akhmedyarov in Astana while he was filming near Triathlon Park. The 49-year-old journalist stated that his detention may be linked to his recent reporting on Kazakh citizens allegedly coerced into military contracts in Russia after traveling there for work. Akhmedyarov said relatives of some workers contacted him, and following his reports, Kazakhstan’s diplomatic mission reportedly repatriated at least one individual.
It was later confirmed that a criminal investigation had been opened under Article 274 of Kazakhstan’s criminal code, which refers to the “dissemination of knowingly false information.” Akhmedyarov was designated a “witness with the right to defense.” He claimed the police complaint that triggered the case was filed by a woman who had contacted him — and that she faced pressure from law enforcement to do so.
The next day, coincidentally, Temirlan Yensebek, a civil activist and creator of the satirical platform Qaznews24, was sentenced to five years restricted freedom and a severe ban on public activity following a conviction of “inciting interethnic discord through social media.” Almaty police had detained Yensebek on January 17. His trial was postponed multiple times before being settled in one day.
The charges reportedly stemmed from a satirical post referencing Tina Kandelaki, a well-known Russian propagandist under sanctions, accompanied by the song “Yo, Orystar” (Kazakh for “Yo, Russians”). The rap track, long popular in Kazakhstan, only recently became controversial enough to face suppression.
Notably, a prosecutor and a judge with the same names as those handling Yensebek’s case were also involved in 2017 proceedings against civil activist Olesya Khalabuzar.
Both Yensebek and Akhmedyarov have faced prior scrutiny. In 2021, Yensebek was questioned in a separate “false information” case, which was eventually dropped. He was also targeted by the Pegasus spyware, according to Apple and human rights groups. Akhmedyarov, meanwhile, has long faced pressure, from forced removal of campaign ads to previous arrests.
Following these cases, on April 22, Timur Nusimbekov, editor-in-chief of the Adamdar/CA website and a vocal pro-Ukraine figure, was summoned for questioning over a complaint filed against him.
These cases share a common thread: Russia.
Russian state media outlet TASS’s coverage of Yensebek’s case notably centered on claims that the Qaznews24 post “offended” Russians as an ethnicity.
Akhmedyarov’s reporting on Russian military recruitment may have crossed a political red line after some dismissed his claims as “fake.”
Nusimbekov’s troubles stemmed from a complaint filed by a woman who accused him of insulting Kazakhstan’s president under a pseudonym. The woman runs a Telegram channel frequently reposting content from anonymous accounts and the “Budanbay – Central Asia” channel. That channel is reportedly operated by Anton Budarov, pro-Russian Kazakh blogger. Budanov has pushed familiar Russian propaganda lines, including assertions about the rise of fascistic nationalism in Kazakhstan.
Complicating matters further, the arrest of Akhmedyarov and sentencing of Yensebek coincided with Russian Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov’s April 10 visit to Almaty. At the time, Lavrov publicly challenged Tokayev’s 2022 comments on Russia-occupied Ukrainian territories – an apparent effort to pressure Astana to recognize Moscow’s claims, especially amid the Trump administration’s seemingly open sympathies for Russia.
Kazakhstan’s domestic media space has become crowded with anonymous Telegram channels amplifying seemingly pro-government narratives. At the same time, familiar themes – Russophobia, anti-Western sentiment, Ukraine, and the Russian language – suggest an effort to steer public opinion in Moscow’s favor, particularly through tactics resembling Matryoshka operations.
“Matryoshka” refers to a Russian information warfare method that layers fake, anonymous, or seemingly independent media outlets and social media accounts – like nesting dolls – to push coordinated pro-Russian narratives. Local actors could still be outsourcing them as unreachable and untraceable instruments of pressure.
Although many of these channels push the boundaries of Kazakhstan’s laws against knowingly false information and defamation, they remain operational, with some often posting in coordinated waves. While authorities have acknowledged the need to address the issue, tangible progress has been minimal, underscoring their scale and persistence.
Recently, a disinformation campaign using deepfakes targeted Kazakhstan’s civil society and officials, falsely linking them to the Immortal Regiment, a major Russian commemorative march that typically occurs on May 9, the day the countries of the former Soviet Union marked the 1945 victory over Nazi Germany. AI-generated videos and fake online ads named independent journalists and regional officials as participants — later debunked as fabrications.
Despite weeks of official silence, Almaty announced an “Immortal Regiment March” under the Kazakh name “Tribute to the Heroes,” while Astana marked Victory Day with a military parade — although not on May 9. These events may reflect an effort to placate pro-Russian audiences amid attempts to maintain neutrality and rebrand them as domestic remembrances.
Similarly, Kazakh authorities may have seen an opportunity to silence prominent civil society figures — particularly Yensebek — while also signaling loyalty to Moscow. His QazNews platform is continuing operations. Yet even these moves may not have fully satisfied the Kremlin.
Astana remains acutely aware of the unofficial red lines it must navigate, despite occasional talk of recalibrating its approach to Russian soft power, evidenced by the abrupt removal of a deputy pushing for the Kazakh renaming of cities. Reports of a so-called blacklist naming prominent pro-Russian voices, including Kremlin ideologue Alexander Dugin, add to the complexity of this delicate balancing act.
Signals continue from both sides: Tokayev has publicly stressed in Russian that discrimination on the basis of language is unacceptable and reaffirmed that Russia remains Kazakhstan’s strategic partner. The country may also be grappling with internal pressure from more conservative factions, such as the Ministry of Internal Affairs, which pushed for an anti-LGBT “propaganda” law.
Kazakhstan could be facing a situation not dissimilar to Ukraine, where Russian agents and sympathizers purportedly infiltrated official bodies, muddying the waters between truly domestic sentiments and the products of foreign influence.
Recent false claims about “large brigades” being deployed near the Russian border forced Kazakhstan’s Defense Ministry to issue public denials.
The shadow of Moscow still looms large — and Kazakhstan’s balancing act is becoming ever more precarious, with civil society caught in the crossfire at a moment when its voice is needed most to counter Russian disinformation campaigns.