Canadians credit ‘Argo effect’ for flight home
Return from Turkmenistan
Turkmenistan is a country that tends to only make the news over here when something weird happens. The small former Soviet republic in central Asia is a closed police state that routinely appears near the bottom of lists of press freedom, and really just of freedom in general.
Jennifer Lopez got herself in trouble a few years back for performing for the president; she later apologized and said she didn’t know about the human- rights stuff. The previous dictator had a penchant for naming things after himself, and built a giant golden statue in the capital, which rotated to face the sun. Just last week, President Gurbanguly Berdimuhamedow, who has installed his own giant golden statues, reportedly banned the use of the word “coronavirus,” an edict that would be tough to enforce, as these things go.
Canada has no embassy there, which can be a problem if you happen to be Canadian and wish to leave amid a global pandemic.
This is the challenge that was facing Dr. Terry Burns and his wife, Heather. The pair were in their third year of teaching at an English-language school in Ashgabat, the capital, last month when rumours began circulating that the already- tight borders might be closed entirely. They booked a flight into Turkey two weeks ago, but showed up at the airport to find it cancelled. Another flight was scheduled for the following day. Turkmen citizens had been barred from leaving the country, so the only people at the airport were soldiers, workers and the 35 or so foreigners trying to leave.
“As the hours went by, we knew something was up,” says Terry Burns, 58. “There was a flight crew hanging around, but no lights on in the plane outside the departure lounge window.” After eight hours, they were told to go back to their homes. “We treated the locals to the first protest they had seen in a long, long time,” Burns says.
The next day, American officials began negotiations for an evacuation flight. The community of Western expats in Turkmenistan is tiny, so the Canadians had a bit of an in there. They also had hope to expect help from the Americans for an unusual reason, which Burns called “the Argo effect.”
Allan Mustard was the U.S. ambassador to Turkmenistan for about five years, ending last summer. He was a colleague and friend of one of the six diplomats who were rescued from Tehran during the U.s.-iran hostage crisis in 1980, with Canadian assistance. That CIA operation, in which spies faked the filming of a science-fiction movie while they scuttled the diplomats out of the country, was the basis for the Oscar- winning 2012 film Argo, starring Ben Affleck and Bryan Cranston.
Three years ago, Burns and another Canadian family — there is only a handful of Canadians in Turkmenistan — were among Mustard’s guests at the U. S. Embassy for a screening of Argo. Burns said the former ambassador told them that night that if Canadians ever showed up at the gate, they were to be treated “as one of us.”
Mustard’s successor, Matthew Klimow, thought likewise, and so U. S. Embassy staff made sure the Canadians — the Burnses and another family — were on the passenger list of the flight they began to arrange. Burns said the Americans “took amazing care of us.” ( Klimow spent a year as a visiting fellow at Queen’s University in Kingston, Ont.) The embassy in Ashgabat was in frequent contact with the Canadian and British embassies in Ankara, the Turkish capital, as the charter flight details with Turkmenistan authorities were arranged.
“Authorities” is absolutely the right word there, by the way. Turkmenistan is not generally open to tourism, and while theoretically a democracy, the president was re- elected in 2017 with more than 97 per cent of the vote. It’s known for gleaming white marble buildings of all shapes and sizes, and of uncertain purpose. Only white cars are allowed in Ashgabat, except those of top government officials, who drive black vehicles.
If the country decided to up and close its borders, it would not hesitate to do it.
The Burnses spent about a week waiting, with updates from diplomats, as U. S. officials dealt with the tricky task of getting a direct charter flight out of the country to the United States. It’s unclear if that has ever happened before. Word eventually came, after some tense days, that the flight was on. On March 28 the Burnses were part of a group that flew east from the capital to Turkmenabat, near the border with Uzbekistan. Local authorities were very welcoming, putting on a good show for the departing foreigners. From there an Azerbaijani Airlines jet picked them up and flew directly to Washington. What might have been a harrowing journey for the Canadians was comfortable, thanks to the Americans.
The drive home to Pembroke, Ont., north of Ottawa, was a strange one. Where Ashgabat had still been a busy city, now it was all empty roads and closed stores.
“We were overwhelmed by the atmospheric change,” Burns said. The limited news sources in Turkmenistan mostly talked about the coronavirus situation in Europe, and the Canadians were shocked by how much has happened here because of it. They are now isolating at home, as required.
Like just about everyone, their future plans are on hold, but Burns said he hopes this was not the end of their time in Central Asia.
“We love the people of Turkmenistan, and hope to be back before the end of the year to see our students graduate,” Burns said.
The Turkmenistan borders have since been closed.