Quick quiz.
How many non-profit, non-governmental organizations in Kazakhstan have ever been implicated in funding terrorism or laundering money for transnational narcotics trafficking?
As far as we know, none.
So why, many civil society actors in Kazakhstan and neighboring countries in Central Asia ask themselves, are they being regulated as if they had?
This is not hyperbole.
To understand what is going on here, we need to grapple with one key acronym: FATF, which stands for Financial Action Task Force.
That international initiative was a brainchild of G7 nations, born in the late 1980s, in the teeth of the fight against a powerful and seemingly unstoppable international drug trade. Later, in the wake of 9/11, the same tools were deployed to complicate the activities of terrorist organizations.
At the heart of the FATF machine is a list of 40 global standards that countries adhering to the initiative are expected to implement. These cover issues like due diligence, financial transparency, sanctions, and cooperation between states.
To ensure standards are being upheld, regional bodies affiliated with the FATF, which has a permanent secretariat and staff hosted by the Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development in Paris, assess how well a country is implementing its obligations.
One of those 40 standards is Recommendation 8. This section deals specifically with non-profit organizations (NPOs). In short, the guidance is that governments ensure that NPOs are not misused for terrorist financing.
The language of the recommendation makes it obvious that the authors were intensely aware that certain governments might make ill-use of this standard. So they used clear and unambiguous terms.
“Countries should have in place focused, proportionate and risk-based measures, without unduly disrupting or discouraging legitimate NPO activities,” the recommendation reads.
In Kazakhstan, both the sense and the spirit of this language is flagrantly disregarded. And this is not mere clumsiness and ineptitude. It looks like a systematic effort to constrain independent voices under the guise of compliance.
The profound worry within the civil society community is that many international partners know this, but just shrug their shoulders, reluctant to create awkwardness and hassle.
Recommendation 8 states that only those NPOs identified as “at-risk” should be subject to enhanced measures. Kazakhstan instead treats the entire sector as suspicious by default. That is the very opposite approach from risk-based.
The government requires all nongovernmental organizations file multiple forms of detailed reports annually, regardless of size, risk profile, or activity. That is not proportionate and violates the principle of targeted regulation.
In 2016, the authorities introduced the obligation for organizations receiving foreign support to be listed on a public registry. The transparent intent here is to generate social and political stigma, and thereby undermine legitimate NPO activity.
There is an old proverb that renders the idea: give the dog a bad name to hang it.
As if Recommendation 8 was not clear enough, the ancillary interpretive note spells it out even more categorically: Actions taken to conform to the guidance “should, to the extent reasonably possible, minimize negative impact on innocent and legitimate beneficiaries of NPO activity.”
NGOs in Kazakhstan have at times reported being subjected to inspections, fines, and threats of suspension. Other times they have had bank accounts frozen without explanation. These punitive measures, when applied indiscriminately to the sector as they are, are the opposite of “focused” oversight. They create a climate of fear and coercion.
It would perhaps be understandable if any of the heavy-handedness had produced terrorism prosecutions or led to the capture of major drug lords. But we are aware of no such cases.
Even Kazakhstan’s own 2021 National Risk Assessment, produced by the government itself, acknowledges that NGOs have not been implicated in terrorist financing. In other words, the state’s own data confirms what civil society has long asserted: that the nonprofit sector poses no credible threat.
That makes the rationale for sweeping restrictions not just heavy-handed, but utterly incoherent; a policy architecture built on the absence of evidence.
The irony is hard to miss. Rather than reducing risk, Kazakhstan’s approach may be manufacturing it.
By forcing NGOs to navigate an overwhelming thicket of red tape, or face punitive sanctions, the government is nudging some organizations into a legal grey zone, where they must choose between suspending their work or operating informally, and therefore at legal risk.
This doctrine corrodes legal certainty more broadly. It sends the signal that rules can be arbitrarily applied, changed, or ignored. That undermines investor confidence and, as a result, damages Kazakhstan’s economic resilience.
Civil society is not blind to the real threats posed by terrorism and transnational crime. But addressing those dangers properly requires a more rigorous and evidence-based way of diagnosing risk.
This is precisely the logic behind FATF’s Recommendation 8, which calls on governments to adopt a risk-based approach.
That means assessing threats based on verifiable evidence, not assumptions. Targeting regulatory measures only at those non-profit organizations genuinely vulnerable to abuse. Ensuring that regulation does not obstruct the legitimate activities of the wider sector. And, very importantly, openly and constructively engaging civil society in shaping those policies.
At its core, a risk-based approach is about smart selectivity: concentrating oversight where there is demonstrable risk, rather than resorting to indiscriminate control.
Kazakhstan is doing much of this wrong. Risk assessments are superficial and not publicly shared, NGOs are excluded from consultation, one-size-fits-all regulations persist, and there is no appeal mechanism for restrictions imposed.
Implementing policies that claim to uphold international standards, but instead enable the suppression of civil society, is not a misunderstanding. It is a deliberate abuse.
Civil society in Kazakhstan is going through a rough spot right now, to put it mildly. Money is short, and pressure is intense.
It cannot take all this lying down, however.
Work needs to be done on scrutinizing developing legislation and documenting abuses.
It is true, FATF in practice provides pretexts and tools for repression. At the same time, it also delivers a platform for accountability.
During evaluation rounds, independent experts and NGOs can submit shadow reports to offer alternative evidence. These reports matter. They help shape how Kazakhstan’s compliance is judged. And they give the international community a chance (if it is willing) to hold governments accountable not only for ticking boxes, but for respecting rights.
By working with international bodies like the United Nations, the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe, and the Global NPO Coalition on FATF, civil society actors can perform an invaluable service.
And it should hopefully go without saying that the help needs to go both ways. Struggling, under-pressure independent advocates for fairness, justice and transparency need all the support they can get from Kazakhstan’s international partners.
That includes public solidarity, and yes, resources. Without adequate support, even the most principled organizations cannot withstand prolonged pressure.
Civil society cannot defend democratic space on moral clarity alone.
Aida Aidarkulova is the executive director of CAPS Unlock and a human rights lawyer with over 20 years of experience in the civil society sector.
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