In Bichkek, the animated streets intertwine around places lined with trees and buildings inherited from the Soviet era. Among them, the Russian Orthodox Church stands with discreet elegance. Erected in 1941, the cathedral is a religious and cultural symbol harmoniously combining the Orthodox architecture and the motifs of Central Asia. Its facade, decorated with arches and warhead windows, evokes the minarets, while its golden domes with Saint-Lazare cross and its pyramid bell tower recall the orthodox tradition. The interior frescoes and icons, produced by Evgeniya Postavnicheva, give it a sacred and aesthetic dimension. More than a place of worship, the cathedral houses a Sunday school, a gymnasium, a library, a conference room and a museum.
Inside, the smell of incense floats in the air and the faithful, often elderly women with colorful scarves, bow before the icons of the Virgin Mary and Christ. Slavic liturgical songs resonate, carried by a choir whose serious voices fill the space. Not far from there, in a more discreet district, is the small Catholic church of Saint-Michel-Archange. Less imposing, it is distinguished by its simplicity: a white facade, a modest bell tower and a discreet cross at the top. A Polish priest in his fifty years, in the face marked by the years, celebrates mass in Russian, sometimes in Kyrgyz. “Here in Bichkek, we can practice our faith without too much fear,” he says, ” A prudent smile on the lips. But you have to know how to remain discreet. Some neighbors do not like to see a Catholic church in their neighborhood. »»
Secretly pray
About 400 kilometers east of Bichkek, Karakol, a city nestled at the foot of the Tian Shan mountains, offers another face of Kirghize Christianity. The Church of Holy Trinity, an architectural jewel, is a symbol of the Christian presence in this remote region. Rebuilt in 1895 by Russian settlers, this wooden church, painted in pale green, seems straight out of a Slavic tale. Its five bulb -shaped domes, surmounted by orthodox cross, stand out in the blue sky. The wood, patinated by time, gives the building a warm look.
For the inhabitants of Karakol, the Church of Holy Trinity is a spiritual and cultural refuge. “This church is our story”explains Natalia, a woman in sixty years, whose Russian grandparents settled here after the 1917 revolution. “During the Soviet era, it was transformed into a warehouse, but we, the Christians, came to pray in secret. Today, she is again ours ”she testifies, with her gray hair knotted in a bun and a lively look. However, she admits that the Christian community of Karakol, although tolerated, remains cautious. “We don’t have proselytism. It could attract us from trouble. »»
Kyrgyzstan is often described as the most tolerant country in Central Asia, notably thanks to its secular constitution and a history of coexistence between Muslims, Orthodox, Catholics, Lutheran and even Buddhist and Jewish. On the religious level, this country has 85 % of Sunni Muslims and 15 % of Christians. Among these, the Orthodox are around 400,000, the Protestants 100,000 and the small Catholic community has 500 faithful. In major cities, this tolerance is palpable. In Bichkek, mosques and churches coexist without apparent clashes, and mixed marriages between Christians and Muslims are not rare.
However, this solidarity is crumbling in rural areas, where Sunni Islam, often influenced by conservative imams, imposes a more rigorous practice. In these isolated villages, Christians, especially those of Muslim origin, live their faith in the shadows. According to the NGO Open Portes, Kyrgyz converts are undergoing intense pressures, ranging from social exclusion to physical violence. Since February 1, 2025, a new law on religions has complicated the lives of Kyrgyz Christians even more. It indeed requires that any religious community obtains the prior authorization of the authorities and brings together 500 signatures of adult members residing in the same region to be legally recognized. An almost impossible requirement to be fulfilled, especially for small evangelical churches or Catholic communities. This law, which contradicts the international commitments of Kyrgyzstan in matters of religious freedom, risks pushing numerous churches in clandestine.
“How to get 500 signatures when we are barely 50 Christians?” »»
A coercive law
In Bichkek, the impact of the new legislation is still limited. Large Orthodox churches benefit from historical recognition and relative protection. But in remote regions, small evangelical communities, which often meet in houses, fear police descents. “We have already been warned by local authorities”says Sergei, a Christian of Russian origin from the province of OCH in the south of the country. “But how do you get 500 signatures when we are barely 50?” »» he wonders, referring to this coercive law.
In addition, this measure establishes strict sanctions against unauthorized religious activities. Although the prison is not yet systematic, except in the event of an open criticism of the regime, high fines are applied. An individual practicing in an unrecognized place risks a fine of 20,000 SOMS, equivalent to approximately three weeks of salary. For an entire community, the fine is multiplied by more than three. Testimonies also reported the indifference of local justice when Christians came to file a complaint. Stuck between legal constraints and a certain social hostility, Kyrgyz Christians are in a delicate situation.
