Lola Azimova
If you asked most analysts which country matters most for Uzbekistan’s transport future, few would answer Turkmenistan. They would point to China, Russia, or perhaps Kazakhstan. They would be wrong.
The biggest shift in Uzbekistan’s transport strategy is not the search for a new corridor. It is the effort to eliminate dependence on any single one. In that strategy, few partners matter more than Turkmenistan. Often dismissed as one of the world’s most isolated states, it has quietly become indispensable to Uzbekistan’s attempt to secure reliable access to global markets.
This is not a diplomatic success story. It is a geopolitical calculation. As one of only two doubly landlocked countries in the world, Uzbekistan cannot afford to depend on a single transit route. Recent years have exposed exactly why.
Sanctions disrupted northern logistics through Russia. Afghanistan remains an uncertain gateway to South Asia. Global supply chains have become increasingly vulnerable to political shocks. For Tashkent, transport diversification is no longer an economic ambition; it is a national resilience strategy. That reality changes the way Turkmenistan should be understood.
Its greatest strategic asset is not its politics. It is its geography. Sitting between Central Asia, the Caspian Sea, Iran and the Persian Gulf, Turkmenistan connects Uzbekistan to multiple markets without forcing it to rely exclusively on any single geopolitical direction. In an era when access matters as much as ownership, geography has become leverage.
This explains why cooperation between the two countries has accelerated despite Turkmenistan’s reputation for political isolation. Uzbekistan is not investing in Ashgabat because the partnership is politically convenient. It is investing because the alternatives are strategically riskier.
The evidence extends far beyond diplomatic statements. Uzbekistan has actively revitalized the Ashgabat Agreement, supported regional initiatives such as CASCA+, expanded block train operations through Turkmenistan, increased the use of the Turkmenbashi International Seaport, and worked with Ashgabat to simplify cross-border logistics. These are not isolated projects. Together, they form the architecture of a diversification strategy.
Perhaps the most important changes are also the least visible. Railways alone do not create competitive corridors. Institutions do. Electronic permits, harmonized railway tariffs, digital customs procedures, and the implementation of e-TIR rarely attract headlines, yet they often determine whether goods cross a border in hours or in days.
In logistics, administrative efficiency can matter as much as physical infrastructure. Uzbekistan appears to understand this well. Rather than focusing exclusively on building new routes, it is making existing ones faster, cheaper, and more predictable. That approach reflects a broader shift in how Tashkent views connectivity.
For years, transport policy across Eurasia was dominated by a simple question: Which corridor is the most important? Uzbekistan is asking a different one: How can dependence on any single corridor be reduced?
Countries that rely on one transit direction inevitably inherit its political and economic risks. Countries with multiple functioning alternatives enjoy greater flexibility when crises emerge. Uzbekistan is therefore not trying to replace one dominant route with another. It is building optionality. In today’s geopolitical environment, optionality is strategic power.
Seen from this perspective, Turkmenistan is no longer just a neighboring state. It is a critical piece of Uzbekistan’s economic security architecture. This partnership also challenges a common assumption about regional cooperation. Analysts often evaluate partnerships through political affinity or ideological alignment.
Uzbekistan’s approach suggests a more pragmatic logic. Strategic value is increasingly determined by whether a partner expands economic choices, not whether it attracts international attention. That may be the most overlooked development in Central Asia today.
While much of the world continues debating grand connectivity projects, Uzbekistan is quietly pursuing something less ambitious in appearance but potentially more consequential in practice: building a transport system that can withstand geopolitical uncertainty. Turkmenistan is central to that strategy not because it has become less isolated, but because its geography allows Uzbekistan to become less dependent.
That is the real story behind one of Central Asia’s fastest-growing strategic partnerships. It is not about getting closer to Turkmenistan. It is about giving Uzbekistan more ways to reach the world.
The author holds a Bachelor’s degree in International Relations from Webster University in Tashkent and completed a study-abroad semester at Webster Vienna Private University. Their research focuses on Central Asian geopolitics, regional cooperation, foreign policy, and international security.
