TW: Kidnapping, suicide, domestic violence
In rural Kyrgyzstan and parts of southern Kazakhstan, when a young man decides he wishes to marry, his parents scour to find the perfect bride. After a suitable bride is picked out, the prospective groom and some of his male friends or family members kidnap the girl and forcefully bring her back to his family home. Then, the family attempts to convince her to accept the marriage and threatens her if she declines. If necessary, the girl is held captive for several days or until she consents to the terms of the marriage. Her protests may be audible, but they go unheard. Her consent is disregarded. By the time her family finds her—if they were even searching—she is already married, and it is too late.
This practice, known as bride kidnapping or ala kachuu (literally “catch her and run”), is particularly widespread in Kyrgyzstan, although it remains somewhat prevalent elsewhere. While bride kidnapping may sound like an outdated custom, today, as many as one in three marriages in rural Kyrgyzstan begin with the practice. Although bride kidnapping is often narrated as an “ancient” Kyrgyz tradition, this is merely a fiction of ethnonational identity that covertly perpetuates oppression against women. Thus, interrogating whether bride kidnapping can truly be labeled an ancient tradition both exposes how such fictitious narratives can normalize coercion and creates space to dismantle the practice in its entirety.
In Kyrgyzstan, the labeling of bride kidnapping as an ancient tradition legitimizes the practice by making it appear to be historically mandated. Grandmothers tell mothers, who then tell their daughters, that getting kidnapped into a marriage is simply a rite of passage. However, historians and researchers debate the exact origins and contexts of the practice in Kyrgyzstan. Some believe that nonconsensual bride kidnapping has been around for centuries, while others cannot find any trace of bride kidnapping prior to the 20th century and instead argue that the practice became more prevalent following the collapse of the Soviet Union to promote a uniquely Kyrgyz national identity. Regardless of its true temporal origins, there has been an unprecedented rise in the occurrence of bride kidnapping in the post-Soviet era, indicating that, even if the practice occurred in ancient times, its true place in Kyrgyz history is decidedly contemporary.
Justifying bride kidnapping as “tradition” has served to hide other practical, socioeconomic motives that have little or nothing to do with culture. The practice is most common in rural Kyrgyzstan, which encompasses some of the country’s most impoverished communities. Men who come from poorer families are more likely to engage in this practice, and, as poverty and unemployment have been widespread in post-Soviet Kyrgyzstan, the prevalence of marriages that begin with kidnapping has risen. These men may engage in kidnapping a bride as the quickest path to marriage, or to avoid paying the kalym—the “bride price”—required in a traditional Kyrgyz marriage, which often includes as much as $4,000 in cash and livestock paid to the bride’s family. Additionally, a kidnapped bride’s family may choose not to seek her return for economic reasons, since the bride’s living and education expenses become covered by the man’s family. It is therefore evident that the construction of bride kidnapping as a tradition often only serves as a facade for other, more practical interests.
Regardless of the motive, there are lasting consequences of nonconsensual bride kidnapping. In some cases, women may commit suicide in protest of or to escape the marriage. Others become victims of domestic violence. In fact, the Sezim Crisis Center, a Kyrgyz NGO that runs a domestic violence hotline, estimates that roughly 15 percent of calls they receive come from individuals in relationships that started with a bride kidnapping. Women who stay in these marriages are also adversely affected in their chances of obtaining employment and economic security when compared to Kyrgyz women in consensual or arranged marriages. Often, this is because they are wed into families who do not support their education or employment, forcing them to abandon it. In turn, girls born into kidnapping-based marriages are more likely to emigrate to “escape” Kyrgyzstan, further draining the country’s economy.
Perhaps counterintuitively, although bride kidnapping has been on the rise in Kyrgyzstan since the fall of the Soviet Union, it has also subsequently faced increased legislative backlash. Bride kidnapping was officially de-legalized in 1994, shortly after Kyrgyzstan’s independence, and in 2013, the Kyrgyz government passed a law increasing the penalty for perpetrators of bride kidnapping from three to seven years in prison. Later, in 2016, the government enacted a new law specifically written to punish perpetrators of underage or forced marriages and their accomplices.
However, legislative measures alone are far from enough to end the practice, especially when they do not reach their intended audience. In this case, more than half (58.1 percent) of Kyrgyzs in rural areas are unaware that kidnapping is even a crime. As such, women in Kyrgyzstan are increasingly taking matters into their own hands and fighting against this practice by refusing to be coerced into their kidnappers’ marriage arrangements. Collectively, women are protesting, creating support groups, and migrating to bigger cities to resist the practice. Preventative measures taken by both the United Nations and several NGOs have somewhat decreased cases of bride kidnapping, as have collaborative public education campaigns between the Kyrgyz government and the United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF). However, despite legislative action, justice for bride kidnapping victims has been difficult to obtain. In the past few years, 93 percent of bride kidnapping court cases were dropped “for lack of evidence,” and there is no telling how many more were never filed. While public opinion on bride kidnapping has declined across Kyrgyzstan, a concerning portion of the population would still tolerate the kidnapping of a relative (20.8 percent) or believes that bride kidnapping is entirely normal (5 percent). It is no wonder that girls continue to flee the country, since it is evident that existing preventative measures fail to adequately protect them from the practice.
As long as a significant part of the Kyrgyz population and local officials continue to believe in the narratives that prescribe bride kidnapping, no law or severity of punishment alone can defeat it. Instead, ending the practice should begin with removing the ability to justify its continuation under the guise of “tradition.” Questioning the “ancient” nature of bride kidnapping removes its sense of historicity and uncovers the not-so-cultural motives behind its prevalence—only then can we open the door to finally banishing its existence.