Yasiel Puig and Human Trafficking

Yasiel Puig and Human Trafficking

                The story that recently broke regarding the journey of Los Angeles Dodgers’ star Yasiel Puig from Cuba to the United States provides a rare insight into the reality of human smuggling.[1] While Puig had much bigger dreams in mind than most who seek out the help of smugglers, analyzing the process is useful. It is likely that very similar methods to those used to get past Cuban authorities are currently used to smuggle migrants within and out of Central Asia. Many victims of human trafficking at some point engage with smugglers to get them to their final destinations. This can range from unsuspecting targets attempting to get to Moscow to work for a trafficking ring posing as a modeling agency they found online to unwilling victims already in the grips of traffickers who are being moved or sold to another location.

                It is crucial to remember that for the smugglers, it is a business. Ultimately, expected returns must justify costs and potential risks. Certainly in Puig’s case, expected returns were justifiably very high. Over the past 5 years at least 20 defectors have been smuggled from Cuba who signed Major League Baseball contracts worth more than $300 million. Puig’s salary soared from $17 monthly in Cuba to over $150,000 per month for the Dodgers in 2013. The five men who drove the boat were in the employ of the infamous Mexican drug cartel, Los Zetas, who also controlled the landing spot on the Yucatan peninsula, Isla Mujeres. Similar to our understanding of likely behavior for human traffickers in Central Asia, this group moved any product that could produce a profit, from people to cocaine. Puig had already made several unsuccessful attempts to get out, and for this job the smugglers demanded $250,000 in return for smuggling Puig. He had a sponsor in the US, who initially offered to pay the fee in return for a contract with Puig that gave him 20 percent of all future earnings. When they arrived in Mexico, his smugglers demanded more from his sponsor, who refused to pay the full price. After a month of waiting for a deal, the sponsor sent in a “team of fixers” to deal with the smugglers and set Puig up with an agent. The leader of the smuggling group was later apparently executed after making repeated demands for payment.

                Smuggling people is much different from smuggling drugs. People cannot be squirreled away, and must be provided with food, water and reprieve. Unlike drugs, the easiest way to sneak people past authorities is in plain sight. While Puig was spirited out undercover from Cuba on a high-speed boat, after landing in Mexico and being released from his smugglers he was able to move about essentially as a legal immigrant. This required proper paperwork and typically the cooperation of corrupt officials. Smugglers must possess extensive knowledge of often highly intricate immigration regimes. In Puig’s case, given his eventual desire to play in the MLB, he was required by both league rules and US Treasury Department restrictions to establish residency in a third country. A mere formality, it forced his smugglers to take an alternate route (from the typical straight shot to Miami) to Isla Mujeres in the Yucatan, where their official contacts provided all the necessary documents and they were ensured no trouble by the local police.

Due to the nature of the black market, it is difficult to ascertain how comparable the costs of smuggling Puig out was to standard costs. An interesting website managed by ‘Havocscope’ attempts to give current prices on a variety of black market goods based on open-source information. While its reliability is dubious, it lists $10,000 as the going rate to smuggle someone from Cuba to the US.[2] Puig was certainly a unique case, given his need to transit via Mexico to meet MLB rules, and common knowledge of his future earnings potential.

                Puig’s account exemplifies the uncertainty and danger that are unavoidable throughout the smuggling process. Such situations are faced by smuggled migrants across the globe. At several points before finally succeeding, Puig was offered to be taken to the US by likely secret police trying to entrap him. When the money didn’t come through upon his arrival to Mexico, his smugglers threatened to maim and kill him. There is no guarantee for those arranging to be moved that they will not be exploited and harmed. One of the men who brought Puig across was being sought by US Homeland security for holding a migrant family captive until $40,000 was paid. To get to the escape point in Cuba, Puig hiked for 30 hours by night, hiding during the day, through backcountry and swampland to an unknown destination battling dehydration. At several points they were nearly intercepted by police, once having to wade out into the sea to escape. Upon finally arriving in the US, Cuban migrants face an uncertain situation, and turn to lawyers of Cuban descent for protection and guidance, often being extorted in the process. Even Puig has not fully escaped his past, as recent news reports say he faces continuing demands for payment by his smugglers, who even threatened his family still living in Cuba.  

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[1] http://www.lamag.com/features/2014/04/13/escape-from-cuba-yasiel-puigs-untold-journey-to-the-dodgers; http://espn.go.com/espn/feature/story/_/id/10781144/no-one-walks-island-los-angeles-dodgers-yasiel-puig-journey-cuba; http://www.usatoday.com/story/sports/mlb/2014/04/17/affidavit-smuggler-threats-follow-puig-from-cuba/7832677/

[2] http://www.havocscope.com/black-market-prices/human-smuggling-fees/

Anti-Trafficking Efforts in Kazakhstan

                The US State Department in the 2013 Trafficking in Persons Report rated Kazakhstan as a Tier 2 country. Astana has made efforts to meet the minimum established standards, but current policy still does not fully comply.[1] This is partially to the complexity of the problem in Kazakhstan. The country serves as not only a country of origin for trafficking victims destined for Russia or Europe, but also functions as a transit country for victims en route from other Central Asian states, and a destination country for victims from the poorer states of Central Asia such as Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, and Tajikistan.[2] However, equally important contributing factors has been the complicity of government officials in the trade, and an inadequate law enforcement response to the problem.

                The Kazakh government was initially slow to address the development of human trafficking during the 1990s, but growth of problems such as the spread of HIV/AIDS that accompanied the rise finally spurred action.[3] The government has made efforts to enact effective legislation. Trafficking in persons for both sexual exploitation and labor is banned by Articles 128, 133, 125(3b), 126(3b), 270, and 132-1 of the Kazakh penal code. The US State Department has rated the established penalties of up to 15 years’ imprisonment adequately severe. In 2012, the Kazakh Supreme Court further clarified how the judiciary should interpret human trafficking, and ruled that trafficking victims could not be prosecuted for crimes committed as result of being trafficked. Also in 2012, an Interagency Trafficking in Persons Working Group, chaired by the Minister of Justice, was established to coordinate national anti-trafficking efforts. Moreover, the order issued by the Ministry of Education and Science, which allowed the children of migrant workers to attend school alongside regular Kazakh citizens, has likely helped these children avoid being exploited through forced labor.[4] At the international level, Kazakhstan has focused on addressing the problem regionally through the Commonwealth of Independent States, and as member of the Budapest Process, a forum designed to develop comprehensive migration reform and counter-trafficking policies across Eurasia.[5]

                Astana has funneled funding into training courses to aid law enforcement in identifying, investigating and prosecuting human traffickers, and made efforts to improve international coordination with neighboring law enforcement agencies.  However, while the legislation, funding, and training illustrate an intent to combat the problem, a lack of results speaks to deeper issues. The investigation and prosecution of trafficking cases decreased from 2011 through 2012. Trafficking-focused NGO’s have continued to complain of antiquated tactics used by law enforcement that do not take a victim-centered approach.

Victim-centered approaches focus equally on the investigation and prosecution of the traffickers, as on finding and providing support to victims. Adequate social services should be provided to assisting in the recovery and stabilization of trafficking victims, not only for the health of the victim, but also to ensure the victim is ready and able to aid the prosecutors in the identification and successful prosecution of perpetrators. This requires a fundamental change in how law enforcement perceives the crime, which is too often addressed as petty, insignificant, and not worth their time.[6] This ingrained perception leads to trafficking victims often being ignored and discounted, investigations are carried out nonchalantly and yield few results, or victims being treated as criminals themselves and prosecuted for immigration violations and/or deported.

Inadequate law enforcement response has been further compounded by the role many government officials and members of law enforcement play in carrying out the trade. Official complicity often results in shielding traffickers from prosecution, further abusing trafficking victims, and physically engaging in the transport of victims. Police officers are in a unique position to establish connections between traffickers and employers seeking forced labor that is often misused.[7]

A lack of enforcement will continually hamper any attempt to enact effective rules and regulations. Given the likely levels of profit officials involved in the investigation and prosecution of trafficking reap from the trade, it will be difficult to comprehensively address the problem. At its core, this issue stems from the high levels of corruption across the Kazakh state. Transparency International’s Corruption Perceptions Index ranks Kazakhstan 140^th out of 177.[8] While much of the corruption is centered on profit skimmed from more legitimate industries, particularly energy and construction, the lack of rule of law and a bureaucracy that does not effectively punish and prevent offenders will encourage officials interested in making a quick profit to engage in more illicit industries such as human trafficking.

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[1] http://www.state.gov/j/tip/rls/tiprpt/2013/210548.htm

[2] http://www.eurasianet.org/node/66247

[3] http://www.protectionproject.org/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/kazakhstan.pdf

[4] http://kazakhstan.usembassy.gov/tip2013.html

[5] http://www.icmpd.org/Budapest-Process.1528.0.html

[6] https://www.dhs.gov/blue-campaign/victim-centered-approach

Goodey

[7] http://www.state.gov/j/tip/rls/tiprpt/2013/210548.htm

[8] http://www.transparency.org/country#KAZ

Organized Crime in Kazakhstan

                It has been well established that organized crime is one of the prime movers in the drug trade within Central Asia, and as I have discussed previously, it has been speculated that similar groups are responsible for the rise in human trafficking within the country. However, given their secretive nature, little is known about the character of these groups. I have pulled together what is readily available from academic and media sources, which gives a basic understanding of these groups in Kazakhstan.

                Van Dijk (2007) constructed the Composite Organize Crime Index, which combines the assessed perception of organized crime prevalence, state corruption, money-laundering, and the size of the black market, from data drawn from annual World Economic Forum surveys, the Merchant International Group’s investment risk assessments, World Bank Institute studies, and official crime statistics.[1] Within this index, as of 2007, Kazakhstan was rated at 100 on a 1-113 scale. Among former Soviet and communist states, Kazakhstan placed below Albania at 110, was on par with Russia and Ukraine, but was significantly higher than the Kyrgyz Republic at 80, and Uzbekistan and Belarus at 75. The index is now seven years old and the prevalence of organized crime in Kazakhstan may be contemporarily different. However, the lack of a significant national crackdown on organized crime and the continuing flow of narcotics from Afghanistan to Russia indicate that these criminal groups are likely still quite active.

                Recent analysis of organized crime in Kazakhstan is difficult to obtain; however, Curtis (2002) provides useful results from his field research into the ethnic composition of such criminal groups in the early 2000s. He conducted interviews with locals across the region who had either knowledge or personal experience with the drug trade. Interestingly, Chechens were reported to be the most common ethnic group involved in narcotics trafficking in Central Asia (and Russia and the Caucasus in general). While Russian criminal groups previously dominated these regions, in 1993 Chechen smugglers emerged and utilized the large Chechen diaspora (a result of Stalin’s deportations in the 1940s) to provide a cover for their trade. Strong relationships with locals were built over time, and the Russian mafia was pushed out of much of the drug trade in Central Asia. Curtis reports that the Russians moved more into the smuggling of “seafood, automobiles, and timber”, leaving narcotics to the Chechens. While some have proposed that the rise of the Chechen groups was an attempt to fund the ongoing conflict in Chechnya, Curtis claims individual profit has always been the primary motive. More recently, Kazakh, Kyrgyz and Uzbek criminal groups have moved into the rapidly expanding narcotics trade, and are likely more prominent now. The drop in the price of heroin in the early 2000s boosted the number of users, and the increase in Afghan production following the ousting of the Taliban has both increased supply and demand across the region over the past decade.[2]

                The decline of the original Russia-based criminal groups in drug trafficking was instigated by the collapse of the Soviet Union and the subsequent decline of the “symbiotic relationship” between the criminal groups and the government, which had provided tacit official acceptance and protection of the organizations in exchange for a degree of governmental control over certain activities. The privatization of the Soviet economy in the 1990s also opened the door to competition. A lack of regulation and rule of law allowed various criminal gangs to proliferate and profit from the black market, official corruption, and the establishment of protection payments on legitimate businesses, commonly referred to as the ‘roof’ or крыша, across the former Soviet Union. The considerable presence of Chechen businessmen across the FSU allowed them to organize and successfully push back against the extortion. However, their collective strength also allowed many to move into the protection racket themselves and further into organized crime. The prominent Chechen guerilla Ruslan Gelayev was reported to have emerged and progressed within Chechen protection rackets before establishing himself within the separatist movement.[3]

                The established Chechen criminal groups have faced additional competition in the drug trade from members of governmental agencies. Members of the Federal Security Service, the Ministry of the Interior’s security forces, and private security forces have used their authority and capabilities to establish their own protection rackets in both legitimate enterprises and on the criminal gangs themselves. The continued presence of Russian security forces across the FSU has allowed them to maintain a strong presence within the drug trade by providing protection in return for a share of the profits. Security officials may even be running several of the criminal organizations themselves.[4]

                Additional research indicates that these official rackets are more likely in Kazakhstan than traditional extortion by independent criminal groups. Roberts et al. (2003) conducted surveys of business owners and managers in Kazakhstan from 2000 - 2001. They found that when the “mafia” was mentioned, it generally referred to the “shadows of official state structures.” Official corruption ranged from tacitly ignoring narcotics trafficking to direct participation in the trade, and likely was prevalent into the highest offices. Moreover, businesses looking for a reliable ‘roof’ from harassment were more likely to make protection payments to government officials as opposed to gangsters. However, their research did find that this ‘bureaucratic extortion’ was less common in Kazakhstan than it was in Russia.[5]

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[1] Van Dijk, Jan. 2007. “Mafia Markers: Assessing Organized Crime and its Impact Upon Societies.” Trends in Organized Crime 10, 39-56  

[2] Curtis, Glenn E. 2002. “Involvement of Russian Organized Crime Syndicates, Criminal Elements in the Russian Military, and Regional Terrorist Groups in Narcotics Trafficking in Central Asia, the Caucasus, And Chechnya.” Narcotics Trafficking in Former Soviet Union -  Federal Research Division, Library of Congress Report.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Roberts, Ken and Jochen Tholen, Takir Balykbaev and Daulet Duisenbekov. 2003. “Post-Soviet Management: Evidence from Kazakhstan.” Journal for East European Management Studies 8(3), 319-331

The Zhuz in Kazakh Politics

                Previously, I have focused on analyzing Kazakh data strictly along provincial lines (fourteen oblasts and the two cities of Astana and Almaty). However, crossing provincial boundaries are regional ethnic ties that permeate Kazakh politics and are generally classified at their broadest levels as Hordes or zhuz (жүз). Often referred to as tribes, these confederations are divided into the Great (Ұлы жүз), Middle (Орта жүз), and Junior (Кiшi жүз). Each zhuz is sub-divided further into groups usually denoted as “clans”, with further sub-divisions down to individual lineages. The significance of these associations within the heavily clientelist politics of Kazakhstan could be influential in my analysis of human trafficking risk within the provinces. As I discussed in previous posts, individuals become more susceptible to human traffickers if they face a severe lack of opportunity in their home region. Particularly young people, with little social or employment prospects at home, are more likely to take risky jobs abroad that can ensnare them in foreign trafficking rings, or engage in other risky behavior domestically such as drug trafficking or prostitution. Patron-client networks in Kazakhstan may favor members of one zhuz over another based on access to officials in power, and if so this could have a considerable impact on available opportunities and resources to members of a zhuz without powerful patrons.

                Schatz (2000, 2005) provides an informative account of the resurgence of clan politics following independence in Kazakhstan, and the role the zhuz play today. Despite the professed push for erasing class distinctions in the Soviet Union, individual Kazakh identification with their historical zhuz was not eliminated. Instead, these identities became crucial in an era of scarcity under the Communist system. Individuals relied on familial networks to not only secure good positions, but also to obtain basic goods and services. Into modern times, the near universal possession of extensive individual genealogical knowledge created easily accessible, and manipulatable, identifiers for members to connect with one another. The average Kazakh is expected to accurately know and be able to orally trace their genealogical lineage going back to at least the seventh generation. Following the collapse of the Soviet Union, early elite efforts at nation-building utilized these ethnic identities to increase a societal sense of “Kazakhness” independent of their Soviet past, and to build their own individual power bases for political gain. Elites used their lineage connections to establish a link with as many supporters as possible, over time this became “a virtual bidding war” that pushed these ethnic markers to the forefront of Kazakh politics (Schatz, 2005). Despite early elite intentions to build a unifying Kazakh identity by encouraging Kazakhs to embrace their zhuz, the exploitation of these associations by elites heavily politicized these identifications and polarized society along zhuz and clan lines. As political elites ascended into power and maintained their positions based on these associations, they grew increasingly more salient as the spoils and rewards of office were increasingly limited to members of the zhuz in power.

                Post-independence, zhuz and clan distinctions have become intrinsically tied to power and goods distribution. To gain access to lucrative posts in state bureaucracy that provide access to rents from the extractive industries, elites continue to rely on their clan connections, and distribute the spoils to their key supporters in this patron-client system. Local elites push their kin-based connections to potential supporters, and emphasize the likely benefits to be received in reward for support, and the need for clan-based loyalty to protect members from the aspirations of competing clans. President Nazarbaev and his family are a prime example. At the center of power for the entirety of Kazakhstan’s independence, he has been in a prime position to privilege both family members and his fellow members of the Great zhuz. A pattern of political appointments and key contracts by him have tended to favor extended family and core members of his zhuz. However, Nazarbaev’s core concern of preventing any regionalist movements built on excluded clan loyalties that might challenge national integrity and his hold on power, led to a policy of clan balancing within the provinces that to a degree has worked to push the clan out of regional politics. Given the strength of their position, provincial governors have been rotated regularly to prevent any from building a rival power base. Few served longer than two years in office before being moved to other state posts.

               

                Despite Nazarbaev’s intentions, clan association is still a crucial political factor at the regional level. Governors are usually from whatever clan is dominant in the region. Schatz (2005) provides an example:

“Most found it hard to imagine a situation in which, for example, the governor of Atyrau region could be a non-Zhetiru or the governor of South Kazakhstan region could be a non-Dulat.”

Upon assuming power, governors often quickly moved to reward their supporters and fill the bureaucracy with loyalists (Schatz, 2005):

“For example, upon assuming office in 1995 the governor of Zhambyl region removed 140 employees, replacing 80% of them with members of the Zhanys subdivision of the Dulat division (Great zhuz clan). In Torghai region the new governor promoted the members of his clan Zhoghary-Shekty of the Arghyn division (Middle zhuz), at the expense of traditionally predominant Uzyn and Qulan-Qypshaq subdivisions (also Middle zhuz). In the South Kazakhstan region, local subethnic patronage networks ensnared members of the lucrative extractive industries, who had a stake in the region’s oil refinery.”

It was difficult for governors from non-local clans to succeed, as sub-par performance was instantly ascribed to their clan association, and support would vanish quickly.

                Schatz (2005) provides an analysis of the respective positions of the three zhuz both within the elite population and within state bureaucracy, and how these positions have evolved since independence. He only looks at rural-born elite as zhuz identification is the easiest to identify for Kazakhs from rural portions of the country, where zhuz membership is still geographically associated. His analysis has shown that over time, the Great zhuz has consistently been disproportionately represented in state bureaucracy compared to their demographic position, with the Junior zhuz continually relegated to the weakest position. The Junior zhuz has been historically excluded from powerful positions, which could be partially attributable to the physical distance between Junior power centers in the west of the country and the Soviet-era capital of Almaty (a map illustrating the general location of the zhuz and their clans is included at the bottom). Great and Middle zhuz members have also been generally better educated and trained since the Soviet period. Although initially excluded to some degree from power, the Middle zhuz has been pulled into an alliance with the Great zhuz, as illustrated by the relocation of the capital city from Almaty in Great zhuz territory, to Astana in Middle zhuz territory, and significant incorporation of Middle zhuz members into state power structures. The following graphs provided by Shatz (2005) illustrate the disproportionate representation of the Great and Middle zhuz in the Kazakh elite (Table 2), and the shift in zhuz representation after the alliance between the Great (also referred to as Elder) and Middle zhuz (Tables 3 and 4).

Schatz, Edward. 2000. “The Politics of Multiple Identities: Lineage and Ethnicity in Kazakhstan.” Europe-Asia Studies 52(3): 489-506

Schatz, Edward. 2005. “Reconceptualizing Clans: Kinship Networks and Statehood in Kazakhstan.” Nationalities Papers 33(2)

Using Drug Seizures as a Human Trafficking Indicator

I proposed in the previous blog to use drug seizure data from the UN Office on Drugs and Crimes (UNODC) to assist in measuring the level of state stability within each Kazakh province.[i] Drug trafficking flourishes in regions with low enforcement of the rule of law, and it is reasonable that human trafficking should also. Additionally, the human trafficking literature has suggested that drug traffickers have moved into moving humans alongside or instead of drugs, therefore anywhere we see a high incidence of drug trafficking, there could be a higher risk of the same agents engaging in human trafficking. To pursue the validity of this argument, I have gone through several articles on the subject, and I come away with preserved belief in the usefulness of drug trafficking as an indicator.

Shelley argues that drug trafficking often becomes entwined with human trafficking.[ii] Trafficked victims are often used as drug couriers went sent to foreign destinations, providing recipients with both the drugs and a victim to exploit. Aside from profiting on the sale, traffickers also utilize drugs throughout the entire trafficking process as a way to subdue the victim, increase endurance for longer work hours, and to discourage running way by facilitating victim addiction. Drug traffickers have been encouraged to move into the human trafficking market by increasing competition and danger within drug market, and low startup costs and risks in the human market. Traffickers generally seek a diversified source of profits, and human trafficking is extremely profitable.

The more recent expansion of the human trade has brought established drug organizations into human trafficking, rather than vice versa. These organizations already have considerable financial resources built up from the lucrative drug trade, and they are able to bring in logistical resources previously used for running drugs. These resources can be put to work moving both drugs and humans, creating more profitable economies of scale. Transport of humans is both more and less difficult than moving drugs. Moving people requires safe houses, adequate sustenance, and people are more difficult to hide. However, traffickers are often able to hide their victims in plain sight, within existing migration flows. Moreover, as discussed previously, trafficking victims are often lured willingly on false pretenses to their destinations before being seized by traffickers.

As important as the means of transport are, equally necessary are the facilitators working in the legitimate world. In both drug and human trafficking, criminal organizations must enlist the support of collaborators in border guards, law enforcement, immigration officials, lawyers, accountants, bankers, and real estate agents who provide the false travel documents, safe houses, laundering the profits, and turn a blind eye to successfully move their product. Shelley provides a persuasive argument for the likelihood of criminal involvement in both the drug and human trades simultaneously. High profits and lower risk should make human trafficking irresistible for such organizations. While different products, both require similar transport networks and official corruption that would allow established organizations to engage in both. Given the possibility of drug traffickers moving people along established drug routes, I have pursued further information regarding the drug trade in the region.

Townsend provides a detailed description of the drug trade in Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and Tajikistan that brings opiates from Afghanistan north.[iii] His examination of Kazakhstan reveals several relevant details. After conducting field research in the early years of the 2000s, he saw a growing professionalism within the drug organizations, with increasingly streamlined transportation networks and more sophisticated methods of concealment. These organizations have discovered the routes of least resistance, particularly along the porous Kyrgyz/Kazakh border. Traffickers can both walk across and bring large vehicles through, within the established networks of fuel smuggling from Kazakhstan.

The main crossings are to the north and west of Bishkek (see map at bottom), where they continue on to Almaty, taking advantage both of better roads and the large consumer market in the Almaty province. Opiates are stockpiled outside the city, and then broken down to supply low-level dealers. From Almaty, drugs are distributed further along the Almaty-Taldyqorghan-Georgievka and Almaty-Balkash-Astana roads. Almaty also provides access to rail networks, both northwest to Astana and north to Georgievka, each with links to Russia. Organizations both use established routes repeatedly and switch quickly between available options, as dictated by destination, geography, law enforcement, and the adaptability of their transport links. The geography of Kyrgyzstan requires that all traffic heading from Osh to Bishkek to use the same road for much of the route, whereas traffickers crossing the more open areas of Kazakhstan have more choices. Additionally, a trend that has likely increased since Townsend published in 2006 is the expansion of the drug trade to the Xinjiang province in western China, which has had a large and growing market. At the time of publication, heroin prices in Xinjiang were 4-5 times higher than in Central Asia, and the markets are much closer and more accessible than those in Western Russia or Europe. Townsend theorized that the crossings at Khorgos and Dostuk along the Kazakh/China border would be likely targets.

Townsend provides additional detail that is important to understanding the intricacies of the drug trade, and likely of the human trade, in Central Asia. However, he disagrees that drug organizations could easily move into human trafficking. “Human trafficking is quite a different business again and given the logistics of drug trafficking described here, it is difficult to believe that the same groups moving opiates would also be optimized for organizing illegal immigration.” Yet, he does agree that the same official facilitators are necessary to traffic both. Based on his conclusions, it is safe to say that while I cannot automatically assume that active drug traffickers in Kazakhstan are also likely engaged in human trafficking, I can conclude that the facilitating factors that enable the drug trade will also enable the human trade. Therefore, any province with a high incidence of drug trafficking will be at a higher risk of human trafficking due to the existence of these risk factors in the area.

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[i] http://drugsmonitoring.unodc-roca.org

[ii] Shelley, Louise. 2012. The Relationship of Drug and Human Trafficking: A Global Perspective. Dordrecht: Springer Science+Business Media B.V.

[iii] Townsend, Jacob. 2006. “The Logistics of Opiate Trafficking in Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan, and Kazakhstan.” China and Eurasia Forum Quarterly 4(1), 69-91

Breakdown of Global Slavery Index Methodology

                As I will be using the methodology of the Walk Free Foundation’s Global Slavery Index (GSI) as a guide to developing a human trafficking risk index at the provincial level for Kazakhstan, I will go through and explain the GSI methodology, and point out possible corollaries that I could use within my own methodology. Moreover, I will need to continually updating and revising it to reflect data availability and applicability. Part of the goal of this post is to obtain feedback on the usefulness/accuracy of suggested indicators, and to seek assistance in locating sources of relevant data that I have overlooked, so please comment with any suggestions.

                The GSI establishes a level of risk by country based on 33 quantitative indicators divided across five general dimensions: slavery policy, human rights, development, state stability, and women’s rights and discrimination. I will go through each and expand on their indicators, with an eye to how I could  apply the same or similar within my own methodology. Key to my ability to incorporate an indicator is the likelihood that it varies across the Kazakh provinces, national policies that generally affect each province equally is unlikely to provide any useful insight into the difference in risk between provinces. Additionally, I must be able to obtain data on that indicator at the provincial level, either through publicly available sources or through direct request from the Kazakh or local provincial governments.

                Slavery Policy is composed of the seven indicator variables: prevention, prosecution, protection, law enforcement training, migration regulation, monitoring of labor practices, and parallel legal system. Prosecution, protection and prevention are based on a scale developed in Cho, Dreher, & Neumeyer’s “The Determinants of Anti-trafficking Policies - Evidence from a New Index” (2012).[1] Prosecution measures “whether the country has legislative and other measures to establish criminal offences for trafficking in persons, in line with the definition provided by the (UN) Anti-trafficking Protocol; whether such legislative and other measures are appropriately and effectively enforced.” Protection measures “whether the country protects the human rights of victims of trafficking; identifies them; and provides for the physical, psychological and social recovery of victims of trafficking by legislative and other measures.” Prevention measures whether the country establishes and practices comprehensive policies, programs and other measures to prevent and combat trafficking in persons.” Kazakh provincial data replicating these measures is not readily available. However, through both qualitative research into the Kazakh legal system regarding human trafficking (of particular significance will be whether trafficking is prosecuted at the federal or provincial level, if at all), a simplified version may be adaptable to my methodology.

                The next three within Slavery Policy are law enforcement training, migration regulation to limit trafficking, and the monitoring of labor practices, which are based on the US Dept. of State’s “Trafficking in Persons Report 2013”.[2] Law enforcement training in human trafficking and the monitoring of labor practices may differ significantly between provinces, and could be obtainable by request through the provincial governments. While migration regulations specifically is more federal policy and unlikely to differ by province, information on the number of migrants by province could prove useful and also could be possible to obtain through request.

                The final variable within Slavery Policy is the existence of a parallel legal system that endangers the rights of minorities, based on the “World Factbook” published by the Central Intelligence Agency.[3] As with migration policy, the legal system is unlikely to differ significantly between provinces, but further research may reveal otherwise.

                Human Rights is composed of seven more indicators: access to legal and property rights, civil liberties, political rights, freedom of assembly, freedom of religion, freedom of speech, and worker’s rights. Access to legal and property rights is based on the “International Property Rights Index” published by the Property Rights Alliance.[4] The civil liberties and political rights variables are from the Freedom House rankings.[5] The three freedom and the worker’s rights variables vary based on the protection of each as measured by the “Human Rights Data Project” by CIRI.[6] All of these measures are generally federal in nature and while the enforcement of federal law may differ significantly across the provinces, it will be difficult to capture through publicly accessible data and unlikely to be monitored by the provinces. It could be possible through qualitative sources such as LexisNexis to get an idea on where violations of political and worker rights have occurred based on media reports.

                Development consists of nine indicators: access to financial services, cell phone users, credit information, international debt, internet activity, GDP per capita in terms of purchasing power parity (GDP-PPP), the Human Development Index (HDI), literacy, and social safety net. The first six are all based on World Bank measures.[7] The HDI comes from the dataset compiled by the UN Development Programme.[8] Literacy is a scale based on data from the CIA’s “World Factbook”. Finally, social safety net scores are measured by the International Labor Organization.[9] All of these variables differ between provinces in Kazakhstan, yet not all will likely be accessible. The Kazakh government provides both internet activity and literacy by province. GDP-PPP is not available, however basic income data is, which should be an adequate replacement. Access to financial services and cell phone users may be accessible via a request to the federal or provincial governments. Credit information and HDI would likely be difficult to accurately measure by province, and international debt and social safety net are federal measures that are unlikely to differ significantly by province.

                State Stability is composed of seven variables: corruption, governance, independence of judiciary, peace index, weapons access, political instability, and violent crime. Corruption varies from highly corrupt to clean based on Transparency International’s “Corruption Perceptions Index”.[10] Governance ranges from weak to strong based on the World Bank’s “Governance Indicators.”[11] Independence of judiciary scores are again from the “Human Rights Data Project” by CIRI. Provided by the Vision of Humanity’s “Global Peace Index”, both the peace index ranges from most to least peaceful, and weapons access from low to high access).[12] Political instability varies from no to high vulnerability as measured by The Economist Intelligence Unit’s “Political Instability Index”.[13] The last, violent crime, measures the homicide rate per 100,000 population as compiled by the UN Office on Drugs and Crimes (UNODC).[14] All of these indicators could provide important differentiation between provinces, yet only crime is readily available at the provincial level. Of the remaining six, independence of judiciary, the peace index, weapons access and political instability would probably be very difficult to obtain and may not differ significantly across provinces. Corruption and governance will also be difficult to obtain, but could be very valuable as they likely differ considerably across provinces and both have a strong influence on the prevalence of human trafficking. I will continue to look for additional sources of data for both. Additionally, the UNODC’s “Drugs Monitoring” platform provides information on drug trafficking seizures by province that could be a valuable indicator of state capability and reach.[15]

                The final dimension, Women’s Rights and Discrimination, contains the Gini coefficient, women’s economic rights, and women’s political rights. The Gini coefficient measures income inequality as reported by the World Bank.[16] Women’s economic and political rights are scored from no rights to nearly all, again from the “Human Rights Data Project” by CIRI. Of these three the Gini coefficient is readily available by province. Both measures of women’s rights would be valuable, but none of the data I have been able to find at the provincial level differentiates between men and women, but perhaps through a direct request to the Kazakh statistics agency.

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[1] http://www.economics-human-trafficking.org/data-and-reports.html

[2] http://www.state.gov/j/tip/rls/tiprpt/2013/

[3] https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/

[4] http://www.internationalpropertyrightsindex.org/

[5] http://www.freedomhouse.org/report/freedom-world/freedom-world-2013#.Uv0ZvtxdXIc

[6] http://www.humanrightsdata.org/

[7] http://siteresources.worldbank.org/INTFR/Resources/Cross_Country_Variation_In_Household_Access.pdf; http://data.worldbank.org/indicator/IT.CEL.SETS.P2; http://data.worldbank.org/indicator/IC.CRD.INFO.XQ; http://web.worldbank.org/WBSITE/EXTERNAL/TOPICS/EXTDEBTDEPT/0,,contentMDK:20260411~menuPK:528655~pagePK:64166689~piPK:64166646~theSitePK:469043,00.html; http://data.worldbank.org/indicator/NY.GDP.PCAP.PP http://data.worldbank.org/indicator/IT.NET.USER.P2;

[8] http://hdr.undp.org/en/statistics/hdi

[9] http://www.ilo.org/global/research/global-reports/world-social-security-report/lang--en/index.htm

[10] http://www.transparency.org/cpi2012/results#myAnchor1

[11] http://data.worldbank.org/data-catalog/worldwide-gove

[12] http://www.visionofhumanity.org/#/page/about-gpi

[13] http://viewswire.eiu.com/site_info.asp?info_name=social_unrest_table&page=noads

[14] http://www.unodc.org/unodc/en/data-and-analysis/homicide.html

[15] http://drugsmonitoring.unodc-roca.org/

[16] http://data.worldbank.org/indicator/SI.POV.GINI