Smart Cities and Branding or The Importance of Being ‘Nursultan’

While a universally acceptable definition of a smart city is yet to emerge it is conventional to argue that it is a city that is able to manage its resources in an urban scape that is both sustainable and cost effective thereby enriching the lives of its residents and the environment. The smart city of the future will be a complex interconnected network of autonomous vehicles, smart buildings and data driven infrastructure bringing the ‘internet of things’ to life at an impressive scale. New York is ranked as the ‘smartest’ city globally with plans to mitigate the digital divide and provide all residents with internet access. Others include San Francisco (smart parking, internet speed and business ecosystem) London (smart transport, international outreach) Paris (innovation, greenery) Stockholm(citizen participation) Tokyo (zero carbon emission)Amsterdam (urban planning) Boston (governance and public management) Vienna(traffic management, smart building) and Seoul (healthcare facilities for the elderly and disabled).

Smart cities are the ‘cities of the future’ and aspiration for smart city status has encouraged cities across the globe to implement innovations not just through digitization but also through a search for the synergy of the potential of citizens and their initiatives to meet specific conditions. The search for sustainable urban development in what was till recently the city of Astana, now renamed Nursultan (after former President Nusultan Nazarbaev) included the goals of improving the quality of life and public safety but also modernization of infrastructure. ‘Smart Astana’ as a brand was inspired by the success of other medium size cities and included smart economy, smart management, smart life, smart mobility, smart people and smart environment. The goal, however, was not just sustainable governance but also recognition of the changing image of the Kazakh state from a combination of vast steppes, yurts, apples, and the Aral Sea to being represented by a city comparable to modern cities of the oil rich states of the UAE. Eclectic in design and cosmopolitan in form, Astana became symbolic of the inclusiveness that the Kazakh state portrayed as its essential image.

The success of any brand is determined by its ability to convince people of the viability of the brand. In terms of the state, this would be interpreted as the ability of the state to convince international audience about its viability. But the state’s image also needs to work for its own economy and its citizens. The relationship between politics and cultural symbols/ ‘images’, became particularly relevant for states that emerged in the wake of the disintegration of the Soviet Union in Central Asia. These were essentially states that had not seen the development of an independent movement prior to the implosion at the centre, and were states where an ‘externally imposed collapse led to internally invented signs of certainty’. Their emergence raised questions about the legitimacy of the state/nation not just from within the state but also from the global arena. How the ‘new’ states legitimized their existence as separate entities and redefined themselves in a new form, both internally and externally, therefore assumed importance. In the course of this redefinition competing images were articulated and new discourses were generated. Nation building and nationalist rhetoric, therefore, was intended as much for the international public as the domestic audience whether it was the projection of Kazakhstan as the ‘Heart of Eurasia’ or Kyrgyzstan as the ‘Island of Democracy’.The success of any brand is determined by its ability to convince people of the viability of the brand. In terms of the state, this would be interpreted as the ability of the state to convince international audience about its viability. But the state’s image also needs to work for its own economy and its citizens. The relationship between politics and cultural symbols/ ‘images’, became particularly relevant for states that emerged in the wake of the disintegration of the Soviet Union in Central Asia. These were essentially states that had not seen the development of an independent movement prior to the implosion at the centre, and were states where an ‘externally imposed collapse led to internally invented signs of certainty’. Their emergence raised questions about the legitimacy of the state/nation not just from within the state but also from the global arena. How the ‘new’ states legitimized their existence as separate entities and redefined themselves in a new form, both internally and externally, therefore assumed importance. In the course of this redefinition competing images were articulated and new discourses were generated. Nation building and nationalist rhetoric, therefore, was intended as much for the international public as the domestic audience whether it was the projection of Kazakhstan as the ‘Heart of Eurasia’ or Kyrgyzstan as the ‘Island of Democracy’.

History, of course, is replete with vignettes that are evocative of place branding. The French state has undergone regular re-branding exercises. Other examples include the remarkable transformation of the Ottoman Empire to Ataturk’s modern Turkey and of the USSR to the Russian Federation. After 1945 the collapse of the Great European colonial empires created a wave of nations. Many of these gave themselves new names. Ceylon became Sri Lanka, Gold Coast became Ghana, Southern Rhodesia became Zimbabwe and its capital Salisbury became Harare. The Dutch East Indies became Indonesia. Its capital Batavia became Jakarta and its multiplicity of languages was replaced by Bahasa Indonesian. The former Belgian Congo became Congo, then Zaire, and then Congo again. Entirely new countries like Pakistan and Bangladesh emerged from what had been the British Indian Empire. Bangladesh has had three names in just over half a century, first it was a part of India as East Bengal, then it became East Pakistan and then Bangladesh. All of these countries have sought to break away from their immediate colonial past. In doing this many of them, like their predecessors in the nineteenth century Europe uncovered or invented a pre-colonial heritage. Zimbabwe was a semi-mythical African empire located more or less where present day Zimbabwe is. The historical relationship between ancient Zimbabwe and contemporary Zimbabwe is negligible, though the emotional relationship is close.

On 6 February 2014, at a meeting with intellectuals during a trip to the western oil town of Atyrau, President Nursultan Nazarbayev suggested changing the name of Kazakhstan to Kazakh Eli (Kazakh nation). He noted that the suffix ‘stan’ was frightening off people and that foreigners show more interest in Mongolia whose population is just 2 million than in Kazakhstan. Apart from sparking debates among the state’s minorities the name change would be costly as significant amounts have been spent on establishing Kazakhstan as an international brand. As a country’s rebranding it is quite radical though not the first. In 1993 the capital Alma Ata became Almaty. Four years later the capital was moved to Akmola which was renamed Astana. However, it brought into question the ‘global’ Eurasianist perspective that was so central to Nazarbayev’s politics over the last two decades. Needless to say it gave rise to both questions and speculations until in June 2014, the Kazakh Foreign Minister stressed that Kazakhstan would not change its name. It also inevitably raised questions. Was this hint of a change in the Kazakh ‘brand’ image reflective of a transformation in foreign orientation of the state or is the idea of a national community changing? Was the state becoming more ‘Kazakh’ and was this a reflection of this fact? Has the state moved beyond the need for an emphasis on calling for harmony and accord to a state comfortable in its ‘Kazakh’ image? While speculation thrived with the President himself pointing to the need for further public discussion, it also brought back into focus discussions on the relevance of branding as a political phenomenon in politics.

In the Soviet era the idea of a ‘politicised landscape’ was reflected in numerous geographical names that were closely linked to the political system. Variations of the name Lenin, Kirov, Kuybyshev dotted the Soviet map and nowhere else in the world did the geographical nomenclature change so profoundly. Name changes were mostly purely political and had practically no relation to location. The city that was known as St Petersburg in imperial Russia was renamed Petrograd in 1914 at the start of World War I because authorities thought its original name sounded too German. In 1924, following the formation of the USSR and the death of Lenin, the name of the city was changed once again, this time to Leningrad. The city's name was reverted back to St Petersburg in 1991, following the collapse of the Soviet Union. Post -Soviet Central Asia was no exception.

In his book, The Kazakhstan Way, Nazarbayev wrote that the idea of the transfer and construction of a new capital came to him in 1992. On 6 July 1994, in a speech to plenary session of the Supreme Soviet of Kazakhstan, Nazarbayev formally put forward the idea of the transfer of capital. His arguments were based on the fact that Almaty no longer met the requirements of the capital of an independent state in either economic or geopolitical terms and a new state needed a new capital. Also because of Almaty’s high propensity for earthquakes, new construction cost more; in any case Almaty lacked the administrative buildings that were required of a sovereign state. But there was always the idea that ‘the capital should be in the centre of the country’

Various options had been considered, among them Zhezkazgan and Ulytau, since it was in Ulytau that the ‘Khans had once resided…and in by gone days, tribes from all over Kazakhstan used to gather here. It was here that the Kazakh nation became, as it were, cemented’. However, all such options, including cities like Karaganda and Aktiubinsk were found to be unsuitable. It was Akmola that was found to be most suitable. ‘Akmola was almost in
Kazakhstan’s geographical centre, close to important economic regions and at the crossroads of major transport networks….Akmola was the centre of the virgin lands which also indicated that it was suitable to have the status of capital city’. Known as Akmolinsk, in 1961 Astana was renamed Tselinograd (“city of virgins” in Russian). In 1991, when the country gained its independence, it assumed the name of Aqmola (“White sepulcher” in Kazakh). Finally in 1997, when the capital was moved from Almaty to Aqmola, the city took the name of Astana (“capital” in Kazakh).

Each capital projects its own distinct identity and for Astana it is architectural eclecticism. The construction of a new state capital and urban iconography was critical to the emerging Kazakh state. The emphasis on the Kazakhs as the titular nation was reflected in the implicit and explicit references to traditions of pastoralism and nomadism. Icons referring to nomadic traditions are ubiquitous in public spaces. The official state symbol includes a shanyrak, the round aperture at the top of the yurt, the nomad’s mobile home. Circles are also a common presence as they represent perfection, the course of time, natural cycles, the shape of the sun and infinity. The Baiterek, reflects this in its architectural style. According to legend, a bird called Samruk laid a golden egg in the magical tree Baiterek every year. The egg symbolized fertility and the continuation of the peoples. A dangerous dragon once tried to destroy the egg and therefore the whole Kazakh nation. However, it was defeated by the fearless warrior Jertostyk. The icon of the city therefore reflects a motif from ethnic Kazakh mythology translated into built environment. It also has a casting of the President’s hand as a metaphor of his role as ruler and creator. And it was as a reflection of this role that Nazarbaev’s resignation as Kazakh President after thirty years was closely followed by a change in the name of the capital.

Astana means ‘capital’ in Kazakh and it had always been assumed that the city would be renamed ‘Nursultan’ to honour the man who had a significant role in its designation as the capital city and its architectural style. The change came in almost immediately after President Nazarbaev suddenly resigned in on 19 March. On March 20, in his first address to the joint session of parliament as Kazakhstan’s new President, Kassym Tokayev devoted most of his speech to praising Nazarbayev and listing the ways in which his legacy will be celebrated, including renaming Kazakhstan’s capital from Astana to Nursultan, a third name change in the last sixty years that met with resistance from the inhabitants of the city.

Although renaming has been practised widely across the world, in many cases it has been socially and politically controversial. This is because renaming is a lot more than simply changing a word on a map or a street sign. Place names are an important element of a country’s cultural landscape, as they naturally document and reflect a locality's heritage and identity. Changing them is often seen as a re-writing of history. Renaming, therefore, is always a hotly debated issue.

Renaming of a place appears a lot more acceptable to the local population when it is done to erase remaining symbols of colonialism. However, when it is done solely to privilege one of the many available readings of a places history and identity, it becomes a divisive force, helping to accentuate political, social and historic divisions within a community. There have been no studies done to date to measure the impact of city name changes but that there are costs is beyond dispute. When cities re-brand, highway traffic signs out into neighbouring states have to be changed. Railway signage, systems and paperwork across the country have to be updated. Government and business stationery have to be destroyed and remade at a cost to the environment. The biggest cost may be in re-educating outsiders about the name change, an intangible line item whose true costs will never be known.

Anita Sengupta

05-04-2019