Why
Turkmenistan made a good thriller location
The action of my new
novel, Corruption of Power (the second in the Leksin thriller series) takes
place in Russia and Central Asia, and most of it is set specifically in
Turkmenistan. This is a country I know well since, for five years, I ran the
day-to-day operations of an enterprise fund that had an office and investments
in Ashgabat, and each time I went there I felt that it would make the perfect
setting for a thriller. It is, after all, one of the world’s most sinister
countries where civilisation by western standards is no more than a façade. Let
me explain.
Geographically,
Turkmenistan represents the heart of Central Asia. Nestled on the eastern shores
of the Caspian Sea, it shares borders with Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan as well as
the more volatile Iran and Afghanistan. With average summer temperatures
between 40C and 50C, over three-quarters of its surface comprises the Karakum
Desert, dry, inhospitable and deadly. Communication is poor, roads are often
nearly unpassable, and locations are remote. Outside Ashgabat, itself
marble-clad and extravagant looking, the fabric of the country is crumbling
fast. All grist to the mill for a thriller writer.
For a century an integral
part of the Soviet empire, Turkmenistan obtained independence in 1990 when the
USSR dissolved. Although reputed to have the world's fourth largest reserves of
natural gas, the country’s economy has tanked on its own, ill-prepared for the
new free market conditions and too corrupt to make good use of its gas
revenues. This situation was exacerbated by the assumption of power by
Saparmyrat Niyazov, the region's former communist leader. A demagogue -
power-crazed, unbalanced, at times verging on lunacy - his first actions were to
change his own name to Turkmenbashi (literally, father of all Turkmen) and
declare himself President for life. The bulk of the nation's vast natural gas
revenues were siphoned off to a 'foreign exchange reserve account', reputedly
held at one of Germany's largest banks, the purpose and management of which
remains undisclosed.
Under Turkmenbashi,
Turkmenistan became a country where the incredible was all too often the truth.
To see what I mean, just look at a few examples of the man’s excesses. In a
country characterised by severe water shortages, he designed a vast lake to be
built in the Karakum Desert surrounded by cypress trees, a ski resort, and an
ice palace close to the capital, while simultaneously allowing the fabric of
the country to crumble. He banned opera, ballet and the circus for being, in
his words, 'decidedly unturkmen-like'. On another occasion he came out against
the use of gold teeth and caps. 'I watched young dogs when I was young,' he
pointed out. 'They were given bones to gnaw to strengthen their teeth. Those of
you whose teeth have fallen out did not chew on bones.' But health was clearly
not always such a priority. Inexplicably, he ordered the closure of all
hospitals outside the capital, sacking some 15,000 public health workers at a
stroke, insisting that in future the sick make their way across the desert to
the Capital for treatment!
Not surprisingly against
such a background, Turkmenbashi was forced to keep the press tightly controlled
– it was exceptionally risky for a journalist to speak out of turn. Like other
dissenting voices (including those holding government posts), they were regularly
persecuted, tortured and/or banished to
the desert. According to Russian intelligence sources, Turkmenbashi himself stage-managed
a bogus assassination attempt on his own life in order to afford himself an
excuse to clear out thousands of such dissidents and their families. Some were
exiled or imprisoned. A few were freed. Others were never
seen again
The KNB (the Turkmen
equivalent of the FSB) played (and continues to play) a key role in enabling
the President to maintain his iron grip on the country, and they have always
been much in evidence wherever you went. Once when I was wandering around
Ashgabat on a Sunday, I stopped to take a photo of a golden statue of
Turkmenbashi on a horse and immediately I found myself surrounded by armed
guards. What I hadn’t realised was that, in the background to my photo, was a
marble staircase leading up to the entrance of the KBN’s headquarters. My
camera was snatched away, though with some judicious use of my pigeon Russian I
managed to persuade them to give it back. However, I was followed for the rest
of the day wherever I went. It was only once I’d retired to my bedroom at the
Nissa Hotel for the night that my tail finally gave up and returned to HQ!
And even though
Turkmenbashi died of a heart attack in 2006, his successor has done little or
nothing to redress his abuses. Each year the State of the Nation address promises
reform and economic reconstruction, but these have proven empty promises and
people no longer even listen. Things continue very much as before, the cult of
the President (though, now the new President) continues, and the country’s
record on human rights remains one of the worst in the world. The KBN goes from
strength to strength, carrying out the President’s agenda unquestioningly while
keeping the population compliant and uncomplaining.
Independent troubleshooter, Alex Leksin, is recruited by Prime Minister
Saidov when the plan to reduce Russia’s reliance on an ever more hostile Europe
is put at risk. Hell bent on expansion, President Karpev’s strategy
is first to shift the markets for his country’s vast energy resources to the
East and Saidov has been charged with overseeing a planned pipeline for
Russia’s oil through Turkmenistan and Afghanistan to access these markets.
Failure could mean catastrophe, spreading the conflict raging in the Middle
East to Russia’s own borders.
Fearful that the pipeline deal might be
tilting off course, Leksin has only twelve days to report back before Karpev is
due to sign the pipeline contract with the Turkmen President in Ashgabat.
His investigation begins in Moscow at
the conglomerate responsible for planning and funding the pipeline. Once the
province of larger-than-life oligarch, Lev Usenko, the group is now run by his
daughter, Vika, the woman Leksin was once to marry. Trickier still is the
prospect of dealing with her embittered brother, Max.
Against a background of political
corruption, state-sponsored terrorism and increased Taliban insurgency, Leksin moves
on to Turkmenistan, one of the world's most sinister countries, right at the
heart of Central Asia. Initially his enquiries reveal nothing to cause alarm.
Other factors, though, suggest otherwise: wherever Leksin goes, someone tries
to kill him; people in a position to help him are assassinated; and information
turns out to be misinformation.
And when at last he discovers the truth,
he finds himself unsure of whom he can trust as the stakes get frighteningly
higher.
Buy links:
Author bio and links
George Eccles, writing as G W Eccles,
graduated from the London School of Economics with a law degree and subsequently became a partner in one of the major
international financial advisory firms.
In 1994, George left London to move to Russia and Central Asia during the tumultuous period that followed the breakup of
the Soviet Union . His work involved extensive travel throughout Russia , Kazakhstan , Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan - often to places with restricted access to
foreigners. During his time there, he advised a number of real-life oligarchs
how best to take advantage of the opportunities that became available as
regulation crumbled and government became increasingly corrupt. Against this
background, while his novels are fiction, many of the anecdotes and scenes are inspired
by actual events.
His first thriller: The
Oligarch, was awarded a Silver Medal both at the Global E-book Awards 2013 and
at the Independent Publishers Book Awards 2013, as well as being selected as IPPY
Book of the Day.
George is married and now
lives with his wife in a hilltop village not far from Cannes in the South of France.
LINKS TO AUTHOR:
Website: http://www.gweccles.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/gweccles
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