Behold the capital of Kazakhstan! This is Astana; a city as flat as can be, fierce winds blowing across the steppe and the wide, orderly roads. Wherever you look is a new building; sometimes multiple of the same building stacked right next to each other. Everything is polished, and everything is clean. In some ways, it feels like a LEGO city, carefully planned out under the watchful eye of Nursultan Nazarbayev in hopes that this city would be the legacy of his 30-year reign. And above it all, the futuristic architecture is meant to send one message: that Kazakhstan is looking into the future and hoping to impress the wider international community.
As always, I’ll begin this post by going into the brief history of Astana. It is a city known by many names, so many in fact that is currently holds the world record for most renamed city ever, having been renamed a total of six times. The original name, Akmolinsk, which means “white grave”. Not the happiest name, if you ask me, and it is often associated with both Russian imperial and Stalinist rule. For those who read my post on ALZHIR, you may recall that the “A” in ALZHIR stands for “Akmolinsk”, because this city is where the infamous gulag was located. After de-Stalinization, Nikita Khrushchev attempted to rebrand the city as Tselinograd (“Virgin Lands City”), and would be the base of operations for his ill-fated Virgin Lands Campaign. This name, too, became associated with Soviet rule, as Russian workers flocked to northern Kazakhstan to engage in an overly ambitious agriculture project that ended in poor harvests and the ousting of the leader. When Kazakhstan became independent in 1991, they decided to ditch the Tselinograd name in favor of the old one, but they also removed the Russian “-insk” suffix in favor of a more Kazakh-sounding city name, Akmola. But in 1997, the city was again renamed to Astana, which literally means “capital” in Kazakh, as President Nazarbayev launched his own ambitious project to completely overhaul the city into the country’s new capital. Astana was briefly renamed “Nur-Sultan” in 2019 to honor Nazarbayev after his resignation, but the name was changed back in early 2023 following massive anti-Nazarbayev protests.
So, what about Astana now? Personally, I think it’s an extremely interesting city, albeit a large and somewhat artificial one (though that’s to be expected, considering how new everything is). There were several highlights of our trip here, which included seeing the Independence Square, Hazrat Sultan Mosque, the Mega Silk Way shopping center, and the Nur Alem Future Energy Museum (which looks like a giant glass Death Star). Nazarbayev University, an English-speaking university that aims to catapult Astana to become an international hub of education, with an impressive dome and a really cool atrium. I enjoyed our tour there, but security at the campus also seems a lot tighter than KazNU as we had to pass through a security gate just to get to the entrance.
Many of these buildings in general are huge, glittering, post-modern, and sometimes even frightening. Our hostel was located right next to the Triumph of Astana, a neo-Stalinist 39-story apartment building which was covered in spikes. The Astana Opera, too, is gigantic, and we got to watch the ballet “Giselle” in there which was really cool. As a general trend, it seems the billions paid off in creating many impressive structures, so if you come here as a tourist, you will not have a shortage of things to see. Perhaps the most iconic structure of the city is the Baiterek Monument, which is a tower with a giant golden egg on top a symbol that comes from folklore around a mythological bird known as the Samruk. It reminded me of the Space Needle in Seattle, and similar to the Space Needle you can take an elevator to the top and see a view of the city. Also located at the top of Baiterek is a pedestal with Nazarbayev’s handprint on it, where people are allowed to take pictures.
As a final note with regards to the city, I’d like to leave you all with a poem by Kazakhstani poet Anuar Duisenbinov, titled “Mängilik Jel” (“The Eternal Wind”), which refers to the windy climate of Astana, where this poem takes place. Originally written in Russian and Kazakh, the Russian parts have been translated to English for your perusal. Have a look!
As a whole, this poem is primarily about Duisenbinov and his relationship to this city, Astana, which was built as a symbol of the “Great Kazakh Nation”. He walks through the wind, admires the vast sky, and considers his heritage (notably, in the Kazakh language), as well as the other pedestrians he sees who believe he is a “disgrace” to this nation. It should be noted that Duisenbinov’s identity as a member of the LGBT community means he must face stigma from a large part of Kazakhstani society. Duisenbinov also condemns the “useless wheelchair ramps” for being too steep, which highlights a lack of care by authorities and city planners to accommodate its civilians. Their well-being, as well as the natural beauty of the steppe, seems to have been ignored in favor of constructing grand, modern skyscrapers that line the Left Bank of the Esil River. The Left Bank, for those that don’t know, is where the majority of the “new city” has been constructed, while the Right Bank is associated with old historical and Soviet buildings. In any case, the relationship between Duisenbinov and the city, as well as the “Great Kazakh Nation” as a whole can be described as complicated at best, and he entertains the idea of being a “disgrace” to his nation with a sort of ironic amusement.
Anyway, I like this poem and I thought it was worth sharing.
And alas, my friends, this is where I must end this post. As our journey to Kazakhstan draws to a close, so too must our online journey, and I must bid you all farewell. I hope you all liked my silly little ramblings! And until next time, I hope you enjoy this little glimpse of Kazakhstan.
-Adrian
