“A woman is not a horse”: writing about Kazakhstan’s pensions protests 

The pensions story ran right through the first half of 2013. It started as a straight economic story, as the pensions system was being overhauled. But it didn’t end there. As the winter turned into spring a rare movement of mass public discontent started gathering pace as first hundreds then thousands of Kazakhstanis mobilised against the government’s plans. 

Their main grievance was the announcement that the retirement age for women would be raised from 58 to 63. Labour and Social Protection Minister Serik Abdenov, a boyish-looking 36 year old, became a figure of fun after failing to defend the plans at a public meeting in the industrial town of Temirtau near Karaganda. 

Because, because…

“You have to work and work… because, esteemed fellow countrymen, because, because…” Abdenov said in response to a question as to why the retirement age was being raised, apparently unable to think of a reason. 

A video from the meeting vent viral on YouTube and opponents of the pension plans launched an online campaign with women posting photos of themselves on Facebook carrying signs saying “I must work and work until 63 years… Pa-ta-mu-chto, Pa-ta-mu-chto” – a misspelling of “because, because” in Russian. I first picked up on the campaign when my female Kazakhstani friends started posting their own photos under the Pa-ta-mu-chto, Pa-ta-mu-chto capital. 

Then women in several cities started collecting signatures for a petition calling for a public hearing on the reforms. I saw information on a planned demonstration in Astana on the Pa-ta-mu-chto, Pa-ta-mu-chto Facebook page and headed for the pedestrianised area in the centre of Nurzhol Prospect – the very heart of Astana, next to the Baiterek and in sight of the presidential palace. 

When I arrived there on a chilly day at the end of April, I saw a group of just five women watched closely by two young policemen sheltering under the awning of the Keruen shopping centre. 

Astana demonstration

I went over and introduced myself, and one of the women – Aliya – said they had gathered around 60 signatures in Astana, but several thousand in other parts of the country, with most coming from the industrial cities. In Astana, where most people are employed by the government or provide services to government workers, there is a vested interest in the status quo and dissent is rare. 

“Life expectancy is not so high in Kazakhstan. Our standard of living is not so good. Many women already die before they reach retirement age,” Aliya explained. 

“A woman is not a horse,” added one of her fellow activists. 

Minister egged

Later, there was a more direct attack on Abdenov – he was pelted with eggs at a press conference in Almaty. People were irate about the pension reforms in a way I hadn’t seen before in Kazakhstan, about any issue. I was a bit perplexed about why there was so much resistance to raising the retirement age for women – after all, women lived over 11 years more than men on average. I put it down to the confusing mixture of Kazakhstan’s communist heritage and old fashioned attitudes to gender relations. 

In any case, the government was rattled. Unlike neighbouring Kyrgyzstan, which had been shaken by two revolutions in the last decade, Kazakhstan has little history of mass activism. Now the pensions scandal had come on the heels of the Zhanaozen tragedy at the end of 2012. 

Not long afterwards, Abdenov was sacked and the President Nazarbayev sent the draft law back to the parliament to revise. In a televised address, the president said the reforms were economically sound but criticised the “clumsy” handling of the issue by government officials. 

“Because, because… you’re sacked” read the title to my follow-up story.