It’s a puzzling reality, but one that’s become increasingly undeniable in recent months—Russia, despite acute labour shortages that even threaten to undermine its “war economy” factories, is driving away the valuable resource that is Central Asian migrants.

A watershed moment came with the Crocus City Hall Islamist terrorist atrocity in March that was allegedly committed by four Tajik gunmen. After that, reason appeared to go out the window as a wave of xenophobia took over.

Even before Crocus—as indicated by a Bruce Pannier piece for bne IntelliNews published in February telling how Russia was losing out to the wider world of migrant work opening up to Uzbek citizens—the appeal of Russia as a work destination was dissolving for many Central Asians, several million of whom traditionally play an important role in the Russian economy year after year through seasonal work or in full-time roles.

Galiya Ibragimova, an Uzbekistan-born journalist and researcher, on August 1 observed in an analysis for the Carnegie Russia Eurasia Center in Berlin that “just a few years ago it would have been impossible to imagine hundreds of thousands of Central Asians seeking work in Asia, or tens of thousands going to Europe [as is happening now]. Russia is unmistakably losing its allure for Central Asian migrants: yet another unexpected consequence of the war in Ukraine”.

Since April, noted Ibragimova, the number of job seekers from Tajikistan in St Petersburg has fallen 60%, while the number from Uzbekistan dropped 40%. Moreover, she added, more than a dozen Russian regions have tightened labour restrictions.

“As a consequence,” reported Ibragimova, “the Krasnodar region, a leading producer of wheat, corn, sunflowers, and rice in Russia, is experiencing a shortage of agricultural workers. In the Ural Mountains, the same is true for factories, including those producing military equipment. In Yakutia in Russia’s far north, migrants have been banned from driving taxis and other transportation jobs. In Dagestan, there are not enough workers to dispose of the region’s waste.”

The observer might ask why the Kremlin, no doubt aware of the importance of Central Asian migrant workers to Russia, especially during a time beset by economic stresses related to the regearing of the economy to support the war effort, does not move decisively to stop the draining away of migrants.

“As a rule,” assessed Ibragimova, “the impetus for imposing restrictions on migrants comes from regional officials. They claim migrants have taken jobs from Russian citizens and depressed wages. In fact, the reverse is true: the economy faces such an acute shortage of workers that wages are rising rapidly. The war on migrants goes on, however, having clearly been accepted by the authorities as an expression of patriotism.

“Should the pressure continue, Russia’s labor shortage will only worsen. According to the Russian Academy of Sciences’ Institute of Economics, the country lacks about 4.8 million workers, with deficits particularly affecting industry, agriculture, trade, construction, and utilities: sectors that are generally staffed largely by migrants.

“But the appeal of Russia’s job market was already diminished prior to these restrictions. Now, Central Asian migrants are looking for job opportunities in other countries, including in Europe.”

The complaints from Tajikistan, Uzbekistan and Kyrgyzstan, in particular, about the post-Crocus crackdown that their work migrants are enduring in Russia and at the Russian border have grown steadily louder. After all, this is an important economic issue for these countries too—remittances provide up to 40% of Tajikistan’s GDP, and more than 20% of Uzbekistan and Kyrgyzstan’s. In 2023, remittances to Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, and Tajikistan fell by 42%, 12% and 8%, respectively, pointed out Ibragimova.

Central Asian migrants now “faced constant document checks, workplace raids, firings, flight delays, and hours-long lines at the border with Kazakhstan. If they were detained by law enforcement officials, they could be subjected to torture, or given a choice between conscription and deportation,” she added.

Yet, as summed up by veteran Russia expert Mark Galeotti in the wake of the Crocus attack: “At the moment, Russia cannot afford to alienate and drive out these Central Asian workers—it needs them. It needs them to do the work that frankly, there aren't Russians to do, or that Russians don't want to do.

“[…] there is a labour crisis: Between the impact of the war and the need to have the defence factories running at full pelt, there is actually a shortage of labour. So, to actually exacerbate that by risking driving Central Asians out of the country—that would directly impact his [Russian President Vladimir Putin’s Ukraine] war effort and also have diplomatic implications with his relationships with the Central Asian countries, which are feeling much, much less intimidated by Moscow now, and which Moscow needs because these are crucial routes for sanctions-busting smuggling into Russia of all kinds of spare parts, materials, microchips, whatever, that the war effort needs.”