Saparmurat Niyazov: The Eccentric Despot Who Turned Turkmenistan into His Personal Playground
Saparmurat Niyazov, affectionately self-styled as Türkmenbaşy—or "Head of the Turkmen" if you're feeling formal—was the leader of Turkmenistan from 1985 until his rather sudden departure from the stage in 2006. Starting out as the First Secretary of the Communist Party in Turkmenistan, Niyazov originally cheered on the doomed 1991 Soviet coup attempt but smoothly pivoted to becoming the first president of independent Turkmenistan, a role he liked so much that in 1999 he graciously allowed himself the modest title of President for Life.
Cult of Personality: The Ruhnama and Calendar Reforms
Niyazov wasn't one for subtlety. Turkmen media always referred to him respectfully as "His Excellency Saparmurat Türkmenbaşy," a title he presumably gave himself after considerable deliberation. To ensure his legacy, he even penned an autobiography, the Ruhnama, and promptly elevated it to near-sacred status, making it mandatory reading for everyone—from schoolchildren to government workers, even those nervously attempting their driving tests. Clearly, knowing traffic rules paled in importance to absorbing Niyazov's philosophical musings.
Never one to shy away from whimsical edicts, he merrily renamed months and days of the week after personal favourites, historical figures, and naturally, himself. September became "Ruhnama," after his literary masterpiece, while October was dignified with the name "Garaşsyzlyk" (Independence)—just to remind everyone who was responsible for their newfound freedom.
Healthcare and Libraries: A Questionable Approach
Niyazov’s unconventional leadership saw him close all rural hospitals and libraries outside Ashgabat, famously reasoning,
"If people are ill, they can come to Ashgabat."
Evidently, geography wasn’t his strong suit, nor empathy his defining trait.
Economy: Promises versus Reality
Despite his ambitious plans to transition Turkmenistan from Soviet central planning to a vibrant market economy and democracy, things stubbornly remained totalitarian. Economic reform and political freedom took a back seat—actually, more like a permanent vacation. Still, with vast oil reserves under his control, Niyazov generously declared basic utilities such as water, gas, electricity, and even refined salt free, proving that you can occasionally buy popularity—at least temporarily.
Cultural Quirks: Melon Day and Ice Palaces
In cultural matters, Niyazov was equally enthusiastic. Not satisfied with the standard calendar, he introduced quirky new holidays like "Melon Day," a fruity celebration that surprisingly outlived its creator. He also banned decidedly "un-Turkmen" pursuits such as ballet, opera, circuses, and lip-syncing at concerts—apparently, authenticity was key, at least musically speaking. In perhaps his most eccentric decision, he ordered the construction of a "palace of ice" in the desert, presumably so citizens could gracefully skate while contemplating the wisdom of their leader’s policies.
Personal Regulations and Strange Health Advice
His edicts also veered into the personal: long hair, beards, and gold teeth were discouraged, the latter replaced with the suggestion to chew bones, canine-style, to keep teeth healthy. Doctors were even required to swear allegiance directly to him, replacing the venerable Hippocratic Oath with something distinctly more Türkmenbaşy-centric.
Here are some highlights of Niyazov's more bizarre edicts -
Lip-syncing? Not in my backyard! In 2005, Niyazov silenced playback singers, insisting live music was the only way forward—even at weddings. His rationale? Recorded music stunted the nation's artistic growth.
Neutrality, Turkmen-style: Declared Turkmenistan a "neutral state," politely declining any invitations to UN peacekeeping parties.
Canine eviction notice: Dogs were expelled from Ashgabat due to their "unappealing odour," while citizens faced strict pet quotas—only one cat or dog per household permitted.
Steering clear of confusion: Imported cars converted from right-hand to left-hand drive were banned to avoid unnecessary fender-benders.
Compulsory spiritual reading: Authored the Ruhnama ("book of the spirit"), then helpfully made it mandatory reading for students, bureaucrats, and even aspiring motorists. Niyazov even asked the Mufti to spice up sermons with extracts from his literary masterpiece.
National rebranding: Ordered all mountains and landmarks be named exclusively after Turkmen heroes, poets, and historical VIPs.
Calendar creativity: Decided the existing months and weekdays were outdated, promptly renaming them to better suit his vision.
Bread becomes maternal tribute: The Turkmen word for bread was abruptly swapped for "Gurbansoltan," honouring none other than Niyazov's mother.
Ice skating in the desert? Absolutely! Demanded a "palace of ice" be built near Ashgabat—because mastering triple salchows is crucial, even if surrounded by sand dunes. It opened in 2008.
No smoke, no chew: After quitting smoking himself in 1997, Niyazov banned smoking everywhere and later outlawed chewing tobacco, presumably to ensure collective suffering.
Arts? Too foreign! Opera, ballet, circuses, and orchestras got the axe in 2001 for being "decidedly unturkmen-like."
Fitness, army-style: Fired doctors and gym instructors in 2004, replacing them with military conscripts to whip citizens into shape.
Bookishness begone: Closed all libraries outside the capital because, he reasoned, ordinary Turkmens didn't read anyway.
Contagious silence: Banned any mention or reporting of diseases like AIDS or cholera—after all, ignorance is bliss.
Natural TV beauty: TV news presenters were forbidden from wearing makeup. Some say Niyazov preferred a natural look; others claimed he just couldn’t tell male anchors from female ones.
Watch your tongue: Ordered all broadcasts to begin with an oath that presenters' tongues would shrivel should they slander the president, flag, or country.
Car radios silenced: Deemed radios in cars utterly useless, swiftly banning them to encourage silent contemplation behind the wheel.
Dental advice from the top: Discouraged gold teeth, suggesting Turkmens chew bones regularly to toughen their teeth—because who needs dentists anyway?
Game over: In December 2005, declared video games "too violent" for young Turkmens, promptly banning them. In the same breath, ordered his oil minister to master English in six months or clear his desk.
Human Rights: An Abstract Concept
On human rights, Niyazov paradoxically abolished the death penalty early in his rule while simultaneously ensuring that human rights remained an abstract concept rather than a lived reality. Internet access was severely limited, hospitals outside Ashgabat disappeared overnight, and pensions were abruptly slashed—though his successor later restored them, perhaps in a rare moment of governmental embarrassment.
A Monument to Himself: The Golden Statue
Niyazov's grandiosity peaked with the installation of a golden, rotating statue of himself that continuously faced the sun. His omnipresent portrait adorned everything from streets to watches, embedding him deeply into daily life—arguably more firmly than the sun itself.
Saparmurat Niyazov's Sudden Exit and a Legacy of Absurdity
When Niyazov died unexpectedly of a heart attack in December 2006, speculation abounded about the exact timing and circumstances of his departure. Given his extraordinary life, anything less would’ve been disappointingly ordinary. He left behind a legacy of bewildering decrees, extravagant monuments, and a cautionary tale about what happens when unchecked power collides spectacularly with eccentricity.
