In the history of every nation, there come moments when not only state policy but the very honour and dignity of the nation itself are put to the test. For Tajikistan, such moments have arisen more than once. Yet one of the most painful and disgraceful days was when the dictator and usurper Rahmonov, with a smile and flowers in hand, welcomed the international criminal Vladimir Putin — a man wanted for war crimes.
While the entire world has turned its back on Putin, and even Russia’s former allies avoid his invitations, Rahmonov opens the doors of the country to him and smiles at the face of a man with the blood of hundreds of thousands on his hands. At that moment, the world understood: Rahmonov is merely a puppet of Putin, completely dependent on him.
Rahmonov’s government has signed the Rome Statute, an international treaty that obliges states to cooperate with the International Criminal Court and arrest individuals accused of war crimes. Yet the dictator Rahmonov ignored these obligations. He violated not only international law but also the principles of honour and human conscience.
When Putin arrived in Dushanbe, roads were closed, hospitals and businesses were brought to a standstill — all for the sake of a man who should be sitting in the dock, not being welcomed in our capital. This was not diplomacy; it was a symbol of fear and political servitude.
It is this very Putin, whom Rahmonov calls a “strategic friend”, who has sent hundreds of Tajik migrants to war. Over the past months, thousands of our citizens — some coerced, others deceived — have been recruited and sent to Ukraine. Many of them never returned. Only recently, Ukrainian media reported that more than 440 Tajik citizens had been killed. Every year, thousands of other coffins arrive from Russia — the bodies of migrants who died on construction sites and in factories. Yet Rahmonov remains silent. There are no condolences, no calls for investigation, no official response.
Why? Because for Rahmonov, the approval of his master — Putin — is more precious than the lives of his own citizens.
To understand the difference between a leader and a slave, one need only look at the example of Ilham Aliyev, the President of Azerbaijan. When Russia shot down an Azerbaijani aircraft and dozens of its citizens were killed, Putin stayed silent. But Aliyev did not. He firmly demanded that Russia take full responsibility for the incident. He declared that the lives of Azerbaijani citizens are sacred and that no power has the right to trample upon them. As a result, Putin was forced to apologise — head bowed — before the leader of a small but free nation.
This is the difference between a leader and a subordinate, between independence and humiliation.
Today, Tajikistan — a country rich in natural resources, water and vast land — lags far behind Azerbaijan in political, economic, and military strength. The reason is clear: dictatorship, corruption, and Rahmonov’s dependence on the Kremlin.
Aliyev can argue with Putin, can say “no”, can make demands. Rahmonov, however, can only stare silently into his eyes.
During Rahmonov’s decades in power, Tajikistan’s natural wealth — its gold, aluminium, coal, and hydroelectric resources — has fallen into the hands of Russians and Chinese. Every agreement signed serves their interests, not those of the Tajik people. Hydropower plants have been handed over to foreign companies for decades; mines have been sold under secret conditions. Inside the country reign poverty, unemployment, and mass migration. The government feeds the people with lies and hollow slogans every day, but the truth remains: under the dictatorship of Rahmonov, Tajikistan is not an independent state.
Tajikistan deserves to be a proud nation. We are a people with a thousand-year history, a poetic language, a rich culture, and sons of wisdom and courage. Yet today, we have been brought to a state where Rahmonov, instead of defending his people, serves a criminal. The man who should stand behind his nation has become a servant of the Kremlin.
When Tajik migrants are killed in Russia — he stays silent.
When our sons are sent to die in a foreign war — he stays silent.
When Putin comes to Dushanbe — he is greeted with flowers and lavish ceremonies at the state’s expense.
This silence is no longer neutrality — it is betrayal.
But every tyranny comes to an end. The people see, hear, and understand.
The young who die on foreign soil, the parents who lose their children — they all must realise: as long as this tyrant rules, Tajikistan will never be free.
The nation must understand: independence is not in offering flowers to a criminal.
He has chosen the path of disgrace.
We must choose the path of honour.
