Abstract
During Islam Karimov’s presidency in Uzbekistan, between 1991 and 2016, the government had a complex, repressive, and paradoxical relationship with Islam. Widespread persecution, fabricated crimes, and unfair treatment of Muslims were common. Therefore, investigating the relationship between the state and Islam involves significant political risk, which has an intimidating effect on both gatekeepers and participants. Based on the field research I conducted, this paper offers insights about what to expect when conducting research in strictly controlled states like Uzbekistan. Identifying the right gatekeepers who can grant or deny access to research sites, obtaining qualifying permissions, and negotiating and collaborating with gatekeepers are important to gain access to and remain in the relevant research sites for the study. This paper contributes to the literature on conducting qualitative research in authoritarian states. The researcher positionality and their role as an insider or outsider are important parts of such research; however, they also present challenges for researchers. The discussions of reflexivity and the reflexivity of discomfort can guide researchers who face similar challenges in the field. This paper also contributes to the understanding of the importance of considering gatekeeping structures in an effort to advance qualitative research methods and research ethics.
Keywords
Introduction
Gatekeepers are the watchdogs or protectors of settings, people, or institutions who are in the position to grant or deny access to a research setting (Berg, 2004) and they often “hold pivotal positions in the hierarchy of the group or organization” (Berg, 2004, p. 185). Without gatekeepers providing access to places or people, much sociological field research would remain undone. This paper reports on the international field study undertaken by the author in 2019 and 2020 studying the relationship between Islam and the secular state in Uzbekistan. Over seventy-five interviews were conducted with three different participant groups, including: a) officials such as religious authorities, government officials, and professors of the Islamic Academy of Uzbekistan; b) currently and previously imprisoned individuals who were charged with crimes concerning Islamic radicalism, extremism, and terrorism and the family members of those individuals; and c) religious exiles from Uzbekistan currently living outside the country. The main focus of this paper is to understand the gatekeeping in the authoritative system in Uzbekistan and the challenges it poses to conducting qualitative research.
In this paper, I talk about two types of gatekeepers: governmental and non-governmental. Governmental gatekeepers are the officials to whom the legal and political systems give the authority to monitor and enforce the law and to maintain order, such as prosecutors, the National Security Services (NSS), National Guard, the Ministry of Internal Affairs, and the inspectorates of tax, safety, and economic exchanges. They hold ranked positions at both the central and local levels in the organizations they serve, which Hughes (2019) refers to as the macro- and micro-levels, respectively.
Other enterprises such as banks, hospitals, firms, religious enterprises, and businesses have the power to regulate affairs within their respective domains. They are non-governmental gatekeepers. Although every organization has their own hierarchy of gatekeepers, they also follow the guidelines and seek the permissions of the governmental gatekeepers. The macro-level governmental gatekeepers review proposals for research, issue permissions, and allow entrance and access to research sites; however, micro-level governmental and non-governmental gatekeepers are also “essential for the success of the research” (Hughes, 2019) by allowing access to participants and research sites.
First, I will discuss the importance of conducting this research in Uzbekistan to help the reader understand the existing political and social conditions in the field. Second, I will provide an overview of the gatekeeping structure in Uzbekistan. Third, the research objectives and the processes of negotiating and cooperating with gatekeepers will be deliberated upon to help the reader obtain a full understanding of the processes. The field notes from this on-site study will be used to analyze the role of gatekeepers in the process of conducting this research and also to help the reader to envision the research conditions. Finally, I will reflect on my experience to discuss the lessons learned and offer suggestions for future research. This paper highlights the importance of being well-informed about how the research topic is regarded in the authoritarian context, identifying the main gatekeepers, recognizing the significance of flexibility to undertake effective negotiations, and making use of researcher positionality, adaptability, and reflexivity to conduct research in authoritarian research sites.
Identifying and Accessing Gatekeepers
This research was a learning process that taught me that accessing research sites does not end with obtaining permissions from the macro-level, governmental gatekeepers; it is a process of cooperating, negotiating, and re-negotiating with both governmental and non-governmental gatekeepers at the macro- and micro-levels throughout the research endeavor (Burgess, 1991b: 43; Hughes, 2019, p. 7).
After sending a letter to the Academy of the Sciences of the Republic of Uzbekistan requesting permission for research, it became obvious that authorities within Uzbekistan were unclear about which institution provides permissions for external research. The Academy is a non-governmental body that unites all the researchers in Uzbekistan and, according their website, they cooperate with researchers outside the country (http://www.academy.uz/en). After several phone conversations, it became apparent that the Academy issues permissions only for the researchers who were registered at their institution. Then I contacted the Committee on Religious Affairs under the Cabinet of Ministers; however, the authorities in this organization claimed that giving permissions for any kind of research was not part of their responsibilities. Finally, I sent the letter requesting permission to conduct research in Uzbekistan to the Ministry of Justice and the National Security Services (NSS). After about a month, I was informed that my request had been forwarded to the Supreme Attestation Commission of the Cabinet of Ministers of the Republic of Uzbekistan. The research proposal was reviewed by the Research Institute for Legal Policy within the Ministry of Justice.
After several interviews and informal conversations, providing the required documentation in both English and Uzbek, and obtaining permission from the Supreme Attestation Commission of the Cabinet of Ministers, I traveled to Uzbekistan. Additional written or verbal permissions from various organizations and gatekeepers were required throughout the field study; however, often these subsequent requests for and grants of permission were made covertly between the gatekeepers and there was a long wait while different levels of gatekeepers communicated and corresponded. The permission to conduct interviews in prisons was only granted 6 months after I received the first permission from the Ministry of Internal Affairs to conduct research in Uzbekistan, which included interviewing political and religious authorities, previously imprisoned individuals and their families.
Identifying the micro-level gatekeepers and the function they perform with regard to the research to be conducted is the starting point. Sometimes, recruiting participants and seeking consent for participating in research reveals who the gatekeepers are. The participants identify whose permission they need for them to participate in the research, particularly within the micro-level gatekeeping structures.
Many of the participants in this research were the victims of structural uncertainties, human rights abuses, and political or legal cruelties committed by government institutions in which gatekeepers operated. People who were previously jailed and those who were on probation after being released from jail were continuously watched by the micro-level governmental and non-governmental gatekeepers in their communities and workplaces. If there is a belief in the political system that there are facts or occurrences that should be intentionally kept hidden from the outside world, accessing information or interviewing participants presents an extra challenge for researchers (Bogdan & Biklen, 1998; Burgess, 1991a; Glens, 1999; Patton, 2002; Taylor & Bogdan, 1998). Obtaining permissions and negotiating with the hierarchy of gatekeepers are often time-consuming and inefficient, because the gatekeepers need approval from the gatekeeping body immediately above them to avoid responsibility for their decisions, should those decisions later be questioned.
It is important to understand that permissions for such research and access to research sites can be easily denied as “inappropriate” or channeled in a direction that benefits the interests of the gatekeepers, which ultimately serves the interests of the government. The stronger the gatekeeping mechanism at the research site, the more ways gatekeepers can influence the direction of research by limiting entry to research sites or access to participants and information. Gatekeepers can also affect research outcomes by allowing access to certain participants while limiting access to others (Broadhead & Rist, 1976). Wall and Overton (2006, p. 66) observed that the approval mechanism for conducting research in Uzbekistan is counterproductive, may encourage obfuscation, and may “discourage some research from taking place at all.” Unsuccessful negotiations and failed cooperation with the gatekeepers can lead to a deadlock where continuing the fieldwork becomes impossible, potentially exposing both researchers and participants to unforeseen risks.
Researcher Positionality
Understanding the researcher’s role as part of the social world being investigated is one of the most important elements in qualitative research (Berg, 2007). For Harding (1987), it is knowing the researcher’s position that makes research comprehensible. The research questions that guided this project emerged based on many years of my own personal experiences. I was born in Uzbekistan. Fifteen years prior to this research, I was told by Uzbek government officials to leave the country that night, due to my involvement in social and political activism. According to the officials, I was an opponent of constitutional order in Uzbekistan. Therefore, I am aware of the structural qualities and the randomness of political and legal decisions in Uzbekistan.
In 2015, after numerous interviews with personnel from the NSS, the case against me was dropped and my file was closed. In the process, interviews with macro-level authorities allowed them to get to know me well and build a professional relationship. I served as a mediator between government officials and exiled people, helping them to safely return to Uzbekistan. In the process of seeking permission to conduct research, after unsuccessful attempts to obtain permission through research institutions, I directly contacted these same authorities. In Uzbekistan, who you know often matters more than anything else. The NSS is a very reputable organization and an important gatekeeping body in Uzbekistan. Applying to the NSS, perhaps, was one of the reasons the application was successful.
As an insider (Mercer, 2007), my familiarity with the region, political system, culture, and Islamic traditions, as well as my fluency in local languages, eliminated many barriers that might otherwise have obstructed this research. Given my experiences, my partnership with human rights organizations and government officials, and my active participation in the analysis of socio-political issues in Uzbekistan over the past 20 years, I was uniquely positioned to undertake this research. However, as a Canadian scholar, I continually negotiated my positionality as an insider-outsider throughout the fieldwork (Hesse-Biber & Piatelli, 2007). My role as an insider-outsider fluctuated, produced challenges, and created moments of discomfort, confusion, and fear during this research. As an insider, I developed a strong rapport with the participants in my research (Mercer, 2007); however, I could sufficiently distance myself and have an outsider perspective when it was required (Kim, 2012). Reflexivity—understanding and questioning my positions and acknowledging my biases while being conscious of cultural, political, religious, and linguistic realities—was a necessary practice (Patton, 2002; Shwandt, 1997).
Reflexivity of discomfort, Hamdan (2009) argues, emerges from the researcher’s understanding of his or her positionality as an insider-outsider and the awareness that rises from “revealing negative side of one’s own cultural group,” often pushing researchers beyond their discomfort (p. 377). Being aware of one’s own values and prejudices (Gadamer, 1975) and situating oneself in the research field by considering both social space and one’s relation to the research topic (Hamdan, 2009, p. 378) are crucial elements of reflexivity for researchers conducting research within their own social group.
Accessing research sites with specific cultural or religious implications often requires adaptability and fluidity from the researcher. Hamzeh and Oliver (2010) explore some of the challenges in building and maintaining relationships with gatekeepers, as well as fluidity and flexibility as conditions to gain entrance and maintain access to Muslim communities. Numerous times during my field study, I was asked to dress as a practicing Muslim woman and to bring a mahram—a male family member—to meet a religious authority for an interview, which “has exposed aspects of my identity that I did not reveal in my research endeavor” (Hamdan, 2009, p. 378). For example, it was clear to me from a message exchange with a participant prior to our interview that I had to bring a mahram to the interview, but I did not travel with a family member during my field work. Traveling without a mahram would automatically disqualify me as an ethical Muslim woman, according to the beliefs and values of my participant. Bringing a total stranger to the interview and pretending that he was a mahram to me was dishonest and allowing the breach of the participant’s privacy and the confidentiality of the interview content would have been deemed doubly unethical. The importance of this interview and the participant’s request to have mahram, despite the concerns about ethical uncertainty, privacy, and administrative compliance, outweighed the discomfort I have experienced as a researcher; however, I questioned what the probability of being asked to wear full “head-to-toe” Muslim attire and bring a mahram would be had I not been an insider-outsider researcher. In another case, a participant asked if I was Muslim. When I replied that I was, he suggested that I should have said “alhamdulillah”—praising Allah—first, before confirming that I was a Muslim. As an insider-outsider researcher, the level of my “Muslimness” was often examined and was “directly reliant on negotiating the positions of difference” (Hamzeh & Oliver, 2010, p. 165).
Reflexivity was a critical analytical tool for reflecting on my own subjectivities while engaging in social research processes and was a guiding philosophy in working with different groups of people to ensure their safety and well-being while being relatable and qualified to conduct this research. Reflexivity is not an act of “looking harder or more closely, but of seeing what frames our seeing” (Lather, 1993, p. 675). It is the researcher’s “internal dialogue that repeatedly examines what the researcher knows and how the researcher came to know this” (Berg, 2007, p. 179). The main purpose of reflexivity, therefore, is “improving the quality and validity of the research and recognizing the limitations of the knowledge that is produced” (Guillemin & Gillam, 2004, p. 275).
Brief Background of the Research Area
During more than seven decades of Soviet rule in Uzbekistan, Islamic learning centers and religious texts were destroyed, religious practices suspended, the Islamic legal system abolished, and many Muslim authorities and reformers persecuted by the Soviet regime (Deweese, 2002; Jones, 2017; Khalid, 2007). After independence on August 31, 1991, socialism’s overtly prejudicial hostility toward Islam was replaced by paradoxical models of religious governance in Uzbekistan.
Islam, on the one hand, was recognized as central to national identity by the government of former President Karimov and was embraced by the majority of Uzbeks (Khalid, 2007). The government started to fund Islamic education, the preservation of Islamic historic sites, and the main Islamic organizations. On the other hand, the transition away from socialism coincided with the revival of Islam, growing anxieties about emerging political Islamic associations, and the establishment of an anti-Islamic authoritarian regime (Jones, 2017; Khalid, 2007).
The formation of underground Islam-inspired political associations in the Ferghana Valley started in the 1980s, led by unofficial Islamic clerics like Tohir Yo’ldosh and Juma Namongoniy (Akbarzadeh, 2003; Khalid, 2007). One such group, the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan (IMU), later formed an alliance with the Taliban, joined forces with al-Qaeda, and participated in and condoned its members’ involvement in active terrorism (Mann, 2002; Steinberg, 2013). Outside Islamic doctrines, such as Hisb-ut Tahrir, Wahabism, and Tablighi Jamaat, and locally-emerging new Islamic waves such as Akromia were prohibited by law, with known members of these groups detained. The government of Uzbekistan persecuted Muslims for distributing leaflets, preaching, teaching privately, and possessing restricted literature. Many Muslim leaders and activists were detained, killed, or disappeared for promoting the political ideals of Islam (Collins, 2007; Khalid, 2007). Supporting certain creeds of Islam and restricting others led to the paradoxical governance of religion in Uzbekistan.
Many scholars agree that the former President of Uzbekistan, Islam Karimov, led a highly authoritarian regime in Uzbekistan between 1991 and 2016 (Edel & Josua, 2018; Hanks, 2004; March, 2003). Harsh repression of Islamic authorities and independent Muslims as well as human rights abuses committed during Karimov’s rule (Hanks, 2004, p. 324) marked all research on Islam, politics, and human rights as “sensitive.” Karimov’s death in 2016 initiated some change; however, the legacy he left behind remained deeply rooted in the system. Therefore, studying the relationship between the state and Islam from inside the country and interviewing the victims of the system could be unsafe if the researcher does not cooperate and negotiate with gatekeepers.
The Hierarchy of Gatekeepers in Uzbekistan
To illustrate how the gatekeeping structure works, I will provide a precise “top-to-bottom” overview of the hierarchy of governmental gatekeepers (Figure 1). This section will articulate how the centralized system of gatekeepers watches society at an individual level, making it necessary to collaborate with gatekeepers in order to conduct any type of research. Responsible gatekeepers in certain organizations like the Muslim Board of Uzbekistan and its local branches are examples of non-governmental gatekeepers, as explained in the introduction.
Hierarchy of governmental gatekeepers in Uzbekistan that partake in research. Pink indicates the organizations that the researcher had direct interactions with to obtain permissions from to conduct research and to access participants.
The NSS and its hierarchal gatekeepers were granted a definitive power in Uzbekistan during the Karimov presidency (March, 2003). They were labeled a “secret police” by both Amnesty International and the Institute for War and Peace Reporting 1 for carrying out most of the regime’s “dirty work” and committing human rights abuses in the country. After the death of Islam Karimov in 2016, President Shavkat Mirziyoev became the country’s second president and changed the structure and authority of the gatekeepers. The National Guard was removed from the military and was assigned some of the responsibilities of the NSS. 2 According to the National Guard’s website, they were given responsibility to provide “assistance in ensuring the protection of public order and security in cities and towns.” However, the NSS still remains as one of the main governmental gatekeepers in the country. The Committee for State Border Protection, also part of the NSS, which allows the organization to scrutinize the entrance of foreign citizens and scholars to the country.
The office of the President is the highest authority in both the administrative and political systems, which are divided between central (macro-level gatekeepers) and local (micro-level gatekeepers) governments. The local governments consist of regional, district, and municipal levels and are headed by a Chairman (hokim in Uzbek; Figure 1). The highest level of local government is the regional government (hokimiyat), which governs all district governments (tuman hokimiyati) and municipal governments (shaxar hokimiyati).
A Mahalla Committee 3 (Mahalla kengashi) is the lowest level of local self-government, where the distinction between the governmental and non-governmental gatekeepers is often blurred. On one hand, they are respectable members of the community who work with families in communities; on the other hand, the Mahalla Committee answers directly to the district council (Bektemirov & Rahimov, 2001). Following the independence of Uzbekistan in 1991, the Karimov government re-established the traditional Mahalla branches: self-governing, community-based entities which were common before Uzbekistan became a Republic of the former Soviet Union in 1924. The size of Mahallas can vary from 150 to 1500 families and the district and municipal authorities can establish, abolish, merge, and modify the borders of Mahallas (Bektemirov & Rahimov, 2001). The Mahalla Committee Chair (Oqsoqol) is appointed by and reports to the district council. The district government reports to the regional governors (Hokim) and the regional government reports to the central government. Therefore, all gatekeepers at the local level are linked to the central power through a hierarchal structure.
Mahallas have a very significant role in this study for two reasons. First, in 1993, Mahalla Law, or the Law on Intuitions of Self-Government of Citizens, was passed, establishing about ten thousand Mahalla Committees in Uzbekistan (JICL Spring 2002, 95; RFE/RL 24 Feb. 2003). This resulted in the integration of community gatekeepers into the government hierarchy of gatekeepers by having them report to the district gatekeepers in the local government. After the Tashkent bombings in 1999, the role of the Mahalla was elevated. Mahalla-based police forces or neighborhood guards (Posbon) were established. They report directly to the local branches of the Ministry of Internal Affairs. Mahalla became a system of surveillance in communities and the privacy of families and individuals was diminished in the name of “security and stability.” Mahalla kengashi started to make note of Muslims who prayed or attended mosque for prayers. They were responsible for identifying unregistered religious groups and even participated in the process of detaining such individuals (HRW, Sept. 2000, 9). Through the chain of gatekeepers, the central government actively participates in the lives of individuals in every Mahalla in Uzbekistan. Individual and family life is under perpetual surveillance because of the construction of the Mahalla system in Uzbekistan.
When considering Uzbekistan as a field research site, the researcher must get permission from the macro-level governmental gatekeepers and then be prepared to pass through the micro-level governmental and non-governmental gatekeepers. In my case, many interview subjects had been previously persecuted for religion-related crimes, such as involvement in radical Islamic groups and Islamic extremism. When potential participants are already under surveillance or continual scrutiny, research requires negotiation and cooperation with all involved gatekeepers.
While seeking access to interview local imams and Otinoyis—female spiritual guides—negotiation with non-governmental gatekeepers became important. It was evident that if the employees of certain non-governmental organizations are participants in research, both governmental and non-governmental gatekeeping hierarchies will be aware of the details of the research, which raises confidentiality and privacy issues according to the common standards of ethical research in Western universities.
Interaction With Gatekeepers: Permissions
Western standards for ethical research encourage transparency in accessing data and require open and consensual negotiations with gatekeepers (Broadhead & Rist, 1976). Upon my arrival in Uzbekistan, it was obvious that research from outside the country was treated differently than research from inside the country. The negotiation was based on continual cooperation and keeping everything transparent; however, the privacy of participants and the protection of data were also discussed. The lengthy processes for obtaining permissions and negotiating and collaborating with gatekeepers throughout the fieldwork required taking local situations into account and applying ethical research principles to those contexts (Wal & Overton, 2006).
Finally, a formal letter of “Permission to Conduct Research in Uzbekistan” was granted by the Supreme Attestation Commission of the Cabinet of the Ministers of the Republic of Uzbekistan—one of the highest gatekeeping bodies in the country. The letter also stated that “[t]he Research Institute for Legal Policy under the Ministry of Justice of the Republic of Uzbekistan intends to ensure the research conducted in the territory of Uzbekistan complies with laws and regulations of the Republic of Uzbekistan regarding Human Subject Research and Data Protection Law of the Republic of Uzbekistan, and that these requirements are followed in the conduct of this research,” openly acknowledging that cooperation was an important part of this negotiation.
The process of obtaining permissions shows that the researcher should be aware that research takes time (Bryman, 2015), that one cannot expect bureaucracies elsewhere to follow protocols like they do in Western countries. Challenges in obtaining permission from authorities were experienced by a Canadian scholar, Goli (2013), while he conducted research on gender in Iran. After several months of struggle and repeated interviews, “it was decided that no further questions about permission should be asked because it would place more attention on [his] research; instead, other venues as research sites were to be explored” (Goli, 2013). Although it was discouraging and time-consuming, conducting this research without permission, or exploring other venues would jeopardize both the researcher’s and participants’ safety in Uzbekistan.
Continual Negotiation and Cooperation With Gatekeepers
Reflexivity played a significant role while conducting observations in mosques and shrines in the city of Bukhara at the beginning of the field study. The observations did not require any formal permission or attract any attention from either formal or informal gatekeepers; however, this changed when I met the first potential participant, one of the local imams, 4 for an interview. When the research focus involves uncovering the realities of the relationship between the government and Islam, getting past the micro-level non-governmental gatekeepers is nearly impossible without the proper permissions from the macro-level governmental gatekeepers. For example, during my recruitment of imams to participate in my research in Bukhara city, it was apparent that while the imams did not personally care about the requirement for permission, they nonetheless had to get permission from the district imam, the non-governmental gatekeeper above them. All imams in Uzbekistan are registered and certified by the Muslim Board of Uzbekistan, which is governed by the Committee on Religious Affairs under the Cabinet of Ministers. Unregistered religious organizations are prohibited by the Religion Law of 1998. The hierarchy of non-governmental gatekeepers intersects with the governmental gatekeepers at some point, which shows that the whole gatekeeping system is interconnected and centralized in Uzbekistan.
It is important to understand that micro-level gatekeepers feel significant uncertainty on research related matters. On one hand, they cannot refuse the research outright; on the other hand, they have to check with the gatekeeper above them to avoid making serious mistakes. Their awareness of the sensitivity of the research topic was apparent. Often, local authorities took a picture or made a copy of the permission letter, probably to show their superior, and booked a meeting with the researcher a couple days later to discuss the matter. This is an example of the interdependence in the gatekeeping structure for one of the research sites in this field study.
To conduct interviews in any Mahalla in Uzbekistan, the researcher has to negotiate with gatekeepers in the Mahalla Committee. Most of the Mahalla authorities insisted that the interviews had to take place in the Mahalla Committee buildings. I suspected that hidden cameras or audio recording systems built into the offices might be the reason for such a request. As most of the participants were victims of the relationship between the state and Islam in Uzbekistan, the interviews were on politically sensitive experiences. Determining how to safeguard the privacy of the participants and the confidentiality of the data, therefore, became a concern.
Conscious of the continual undemocratic treatment of and fabricated evidence against innocent Muslims, the safety and security of participants were my priority as a researcher. In such situations, I had to make the conscious decision to not ask certain questions and to avoid specific discussions about their experiences that might put the participants’ safety at risk. At the end of the interview, I asked participants if they were open to follow-up interviews over the phone and asked the best way to reach out to them. Because of the pre-determined premises, I had to conduct follow-up phone interviews with the participants to fulfill the purpose of my research.
Uncertainty and the balance between risk and safety while researching in authoritarian states can require extra time and effort from researchers. Perhaps, if research ethics prohibited using premises pre-determined by gatekeepers, it might serve as a shelter to allow researchers to refuse such demands. While privacy and confidentiality concerns are taken very seriously, research ethics in Western universities often overlook such details about conducting research in strictly-controlled societies and therefore do not equip researchers to deal with these situations. The work on research methodology also rarely discusses such complex situations where ethical standards conflict with the negotiated measures.
Negotiations often force the researcher to make quick decisions to secure access to certain organizations and groups of individuals. For example, both the Muslim Board of Uzbekistan and the International Islamic Academy have security checkpoints that are not much different from those in airports. Even with the proper written permissions, it was not possible to get into these sites and meet potential participants without the verbal permission of the macro-level authorities. Often, the macro-level governmental gatekeepers reach out to the macro-level non-governmental authorities and the permission is passed down the hierarchy. In some cases, they simply tell the responsible gatekeepers at the micro-level to allow the researcher in and to arrange for the researcher to see certain participants. Although the micro-level gatekeepers recognize the authority of the institution that granted the permission, they insist upon verbal authorization from those whose orders they follow.
As part of my research plan, I recruited numerous Otinoyis in Uzbekistan. They were willing to participate in this research if I could get permission from their director. I share here my field notes describing the process of getting permission from their supervisor: Oliya Otinoyi
5
was a well-spoken, sophisticated, knowledgeable and confident woman in her early sixties. After viewing the permissions issued by the Highest Attestations Commission at the Cabinet of Ministers, she called her male counterpart whom she said she has to check with first. She read every word on the permission document to the person on the other end of the phone. After the phone conversation, I learned that the imam she called also wanted to check with the Muslim Board, the macro-level non-governmental gatekeeper in this organization. About 3 hours passed. Finally, I called the phone number provided to me upon receiving the permission to conduct this research, which I was told to contact if I had any issues during my field study. I had a feeling that the politics of allowing me to conduct this research included helping me to getting through the hierarchy of gatekeepers. Less than 10 minutes after the phone conversation, I was called into Oliya Otinoyi’s office to conduct the interview and received the already printed and signed permission to conduct interviews with the other Otinoyis.
Feelings of caution, fear, and anxiety were often observable during the interviews. Some of the most unfairly punished participants thanked the government during their interviews and tried to justify the unfair institutional conduct against them. It was obvious that instilling trust between researchers and participants in authoritarian regimes is more difficult. Often, the researcher is viewed as part of the government or someone who is cooperating with officials because of the permissions to conduct research granted by authorities. In the worst cases, the interviews were treated like a trap by participants, such as the participant who repeatedly thanked the government for being thrown into jail “by mistake.” He said that the “safety of the society as a whole is more important than the 7 years I spent in prison. I understand that it is difficult to differentiate radical Islamists from ordinary Muslims like me.” 6
Such interviews, although not very helpful in terms of the information received, were priceless in terms of observing “docile bodies” (Foucault, 1977) created by the system. To increase the validity and reliability of the research, I recruited religious exiles who left Uzbekistan because of religious oppression. Gathering data from both inside and outside the country helped me to recognize gatekeeper influence during data analysis. In some cases, participants showed an increased willingness to share more information after my audio recording device was turned off. Regardless of privacy and confidentiality statements in the consent form, they feared the audio recordings being shared with government officials but were willing to share some experiences if they weren’t recorded. I jotted down those conversations in my field notes right after the interviews were completed.
Although it took almost a year to obtain permission, I was also allowed to conduct interviews with religious convicts in prison. However, the informed consent of imprisoned individuals is not the same as the consent of people who have at least partial freedom from political influences and constraints. One of the religious leaders I interviewed in jail was Ruhiddin Fakhruddinov,
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who continued the work of one of the well-known religious authorities, Obidkhon Qori Nazarov, after he was exiled from Uzbekistan.
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My field notes say much about my experience conducting interviews in prison. This was my second time in Uzbekistan within 6 months. I could not obtain permission to conduct research with imprisoned religious leaders during the first trip; however, this time I had a better knowledge of the field and how to negotiate with the gatekeepers. My interview with one of the leaders of a “radical” Islamic group, Ruhiddin Fakhruddinov, was scheduled at the prison—UYA 64. I talked to a military personnel member through the small opening in the thick window. His rather rude attitude changed upon reviewing my permissions. He took the copies of the permissions, asked me to fill out the application to see Ruhiddin Fakhruddinov. I waited another couple of hours. Finally, the man who spoke to me earlier came out to say that his boss wanted to meet me. After a security screening, he led me inside. There was no sign of inmates in this part of the prison. In the hallway of the second floor, a middle-aged man in casual clothing said “hello” with a nice smile on his face. My mind was preoccupied with the upcoming meeting and responded without paying much attention. Later, I learned that this was Ruhiddin Fakhruddinov, my potential participant. He was already waiting in the building for the interview. Perhaps last few hours I waited outside the prison were spent to prepare him for the interview. The meeting with the boss lasted less than 20 min. He wanted to know whom I knew in the higher government and how I could obtain such “powerful” permission. He also asked questions about what I was going to do with the data and my opinion about “radical” Muslims. After the interview, he led me to a room around the corner; however, before we entered, he pointed to the department head and said that “he will sit in the room for your security, but he will not interrupt the conversation.” I told him that it would be against ethical standards. He said, “okay, then he will remain around here.” I realized that I can use the term “ethical standards” to refuse their demands, perhaps even better if it is written in the consent form. The interview lasted for almost 3 hr. Ruhiddin Fakhruddinov was an Islamic scholar with a great knowledge of Islam and the politics surrounding Islam. Everything about Ruhiddin Fakhruddinov went against the mainstream image and description of a “radical Islamist” or “extremist.” I caught the participant looking at about 8-in. long air freshener that was placed on the top of the bookshelf in a way that could take perfect video of the whole office. I wondered if that was a hidden video recorder.
As discussed earlier, uncertainty about the privacy of the participants and confidentiality of the gathered data was always present. Difficulties with obtaining permissions and navigating the hierarchy of gatekeepers mounted over the course of my efforts to reach research participants, showing the importance of qualitative research in uncovering the truth about the complex and multifaceted relationship between Islam and the secular state in Uzbekistan. The government’s involvement in every aspect of society and people’s lives makes it difficult to conduct ethical research.
Conclusion
The lengthy process of obtaining permissions, lack of clarity about the institutions that grant permissions to conduct social research, and necessity for continual cooperation and negotiation with gatekeepers show the importance of qualitative research in identifying and examining underground socio-political issues. The gatekeeping structure in Uzbekistan is constructed in such a way that the centralized government can be aware of everything, if it so desires, about an individual’s life. Conducting interviews with individuals who are monitored by the government, such as currently incarcerated individuals, people on probation after being released from jail, members of certain religious or political associations, or employees of certain organizations, requires formal permission from the qualifying gatekeepers. These permissions, however, have a different role in the system. They qualify the researcher to be taken seriously enough that micro-level gatekeepers will check in with their superiors to see if they should allow this research to take place.
Participants unaffiliated with any other non-governmental gatekeeping system use Mahalla Committees as a gatekeeping body, seeking to get permission from them for their own safety. Interviewing incarcerated individuals or people on probation who have to come to Mahalla Committee buildings for interviews presents another level of ethical challenges. In such interviews, the identity of the participant is exposed, and it is possible that the premises provided by the officials could be equipped with hidden cameras or audio recording devices. The ethical boards in Western universities are primarily concerned about taking data across borders and recommending cloud-based drives to secure data so that it does not have to be stored on physical computers; however, dealing with the gatekeepers in authoritarian governments seeking to access research data is rarely discussed either in the process of obtaining ethics permission or qualitative research methods literature. The concepts of informed consent, voluntary participation, and participant privacy in research, based on Western standards, lose their core meaning when the research site is in a system where the level of basic democratic freedoms is questionable.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
