As the international community scrutinizes human rights standards globally, Kazakhstan finds itself at a critical crossroads. During an October 6 review by the United Nations Committee on the Elimination of Discrimination against Women (CEDAW), the Kazakh government made a high-profile pledge: to enact new legislation that would classify domestic violence as a standalone criminal offense. While this commitment is a welcome acknowledgment of a systemic failure, human rights advocates and survivors alike argue that, in the face of escalating violence against women, words without immediate legislative action are not enough.
For years, the narrative in Astana has been one of incremental reform, yet the reality on the ground for thousands of women remains one of profound insecurity. The gap between the government’s stated commitment to "zero tolerance" and the lived experiences of survivors is wide, and for many, it is proving fatal.
The Human Cost: A Pattern of Negligence
The urgency of this legislative shift is underscored by a series of harrowing cases that have shocked the Kazakh public and drawn international condemnation.
On September 23, the tragic death of Zhazira Adauova, a mother of two, brought the systemic failures of the current legal framework into sharp relief. Adauova was brutally murdered in Astana, stabbed 16 times by her ex-husband. According to statements from her family, this was not an isolated outburst of violence; it was the culmination of a long, documented campaign of terror. Adauova had reportedly approached local law enforcement repeatedly, seeking protection from her ex-husband’s escalating threats. Despite these warnings, the protective mechanisms meant to save her life failed to act.
The failure was so profound that authorities have since launched an investigation into four former police officers, citing alleged negligence in the handling of her case. While the investigation into the officers is a step toward institutional accountability, it offers no solace to a family grieving a preventable death.
This pattern of administrative failure is mirrored in the case of Elvira Erkebayeva, a resident of western Kazakhstan. Her story illustrates a darker side of the judicial system: the criminalization of the victim. Having endured two decades of domestic violence—a trauma that included having boiling water thrown in her face—Erkebayeva found herself in the dock. In 2025, rather than protecting her from her abuser, the state prosecuted Erkebayeva for allegedly conspiring to murder her husband, citing her attempts to "find a firearm" as evidence of criminal intent.
These cases are not outliers; they are symptomatic of a system that prioritizes procedural bureaucracy over the safety of women. Frequently, perpetrators are only held accountable after they have successfully killed their partners, rendering the justice system a post-mortem exercise rather than a protective shield.
Legislative Gaps: From Repeal to Uncertainty
The legislative history of domestic violence protection in Kazakhstan is fraught with contradictions. Historically, the 2009 Law on the Prevention of Domestic Violence provided a specific, albeit imperfect, framework for intervention. However, that law was eventually repealed and replaced by the broader Law on the Prevention of Offences, which came into force in March.
Critics argue that this move effectively diluted the state’s focus on domestic violence. By burying the issue within a wider prevention framework, the government has created a legal environment where domestic abuse is often treated as a minor civil disturbance rather than a violent crime. The lack of a standalone criminal offense means that prosecutors and police often lack the legal tools necessary to intervene decisively before a situation turns lethal.
CEDAW Review: Official Rhetoric vs. International Standards
During the recent CEDAW review, the Kazakh delegation was adamant in its defense of the state’s progress. Representatives argued that "enforcing zero tolerance for violence" has become the cornerstone of their ongoing reforms. They pointed to legislative updates in 2024 as evidence that the state has "intensified legal accountability" for gender-based violence.
However, the committee experts were not easily swayed. The Rapporteur for Kazakhstan sharply questioned the efficacy of these measures, pointing out the elephant in the room: the continued absence of domestic violence as a standalone criminal offense.
Under the guidelines set forth in CEDAW and the Committee’s General Recommendation No. 35, the obligation of a state goes far beyond passing vague policies. Member states are required to proactively prevent, investigate, prosecute, and ensure meaningful accountability for gender-based violence. The current Kazakh framework fails these basic tests by placing the burden of proof on the victim and failing to provide police with the mandate to enforce protection orders effectively.
Chronology of Reform and Regression
- 2009: The Law on the Prevention of Domestic Violence is enacted, providing a dedicated, if limited, legal basis for intervention.
- 2017: Initial discussions begin regarding the decriminalization of certain domestic offenses, sparking debate on the adequacy of existing protection.
- March 2024: The Law on the Prevention of Offences enters into force, effectively repealing the 2009 legislation and subsuming domestic violence under a broader regulatory umbrella.
- April 2024: Human rights organizations express concern that new reforms, while marketed as improvements, remain incomplete and lack the teeth to protect women from systemic abuse.
- September 2025: The murder of Zhazira Adauova ignites public outcry, leading to the investigation of police officers for negligence.
- October 2025: During the CEDAW review, the government pledges to introduce new legislation to establish domestic violence as a standalone crime.
The Path Forward: What Needs to Change
For the government’s pledge at the UN to be more than a diplomatic maneuver, specific, actionable steps must be taken immediately.
1. Codification of Standalone Legislation
The most critical step is the drafting and adoption of a law that defines domestic violence as a distinct criminal offense. This would allow for mandatory arrest policies, specialized prosecution teams, and clearer sentencing guidelines that reflect the gravity of domestic abuse.
2. Strengthening Protection Orders
Current protection orders are frequently ignored or poorly enforced. The state must implement a rigorous monitoring system that tracks the status of these orders. Furthermore, a breach of a protection order should be treated as an automatic criminal escalation, triggering immediate law enforcement intervention.
3. Institutional Training and Accountability
The investigations into the officers involved in the Adauova case must serve as a catalyst for systemic change. Police forces require specialized training on the dynamics of domestic violence, trauma-informed interviewing, and the dangers of victim-blaming. There must be clear consequences for officers who fail to act on reports of abuse.
4. Support Services for Survivors
Legal reform is meaningless without adequate social infrastructure. Kazakhstan must invest in a network of accessible, government-funded shelters, legal aid, and psychological counseling. Survivors like Elvira Erkebayeva should not be forced into a position where they feel the only way to escape their abusers is to take the law into their own hands.
Conclusion: The Moral Imperative
The international community, including Kazakhstan’s key diplomatic and economic partners, must maintain pressure on the government to ensure that these promises are kept. Accountability after a woman is dead is no substitute for timely protection.
The government of Kazakhstan has stated that zero tolerance is its goal. To achieve that, it must move beyond the safety of rhetoric and into the difficult work of legislative reform. Every day of delay carries a high cost—one paid in the lives of women who, like Zhazira Adauova, simply asked for the protection the state was obligated to provide. The time for deliberation has passed; the time for a standalone criminal code is now. Without fundamental change, the cycle of violence will continue to claim victims, and the state’s promises will remain a testament to inaction.











