Behind the beautiful façade of the family of Uzbekistan’s leader, Shavkat Mirziyoyev, a greedy struggle for the presidential seat continues. Behind the deliberate smiles of daughters and sons-in-law lies a fierce battle in which everyone is ready to betray the other for the sake of power. And the more brutal the confrontation within this narrow circle becomes, the higher the price paid by society. It is not President Mirziyoyev’s relatives who pay for their ambitions, but ordinary citizens, whose lives and destinies become bargaining chips.

In order to eliminate one of the main political competitors, Otabek Umarov, the husband of her younger sister, Saida Mirziyoyeva and her team organized a staged assassination attempt on Komil Allamjonov. Saida Mirziyoyeva, who considers herself an “Uzbek princess,” has been officially divorced from her husband since 2024, while Komil Allamjonov has long been her boyfriend.

To turn the planned lie into a nationwide high-profile event, the organizers of the fake assassination attempt chose the date on the eve of parliamentary elections in the country.

On October 26, 2024, false information spread in Uzbekistan’s media space claiming that a Range Rover belonging to Komil Allamjonov was shot at several times by two unidentified individuals near Tashkent. According to these reports, no one was injured during the incident.

Saida Mirziyoyeva, having significant influence over Western media outlets that cover events in Uzbekistan, actively used them to spread her disinformation.

One of the first disseminators of the fake news was the pseudo–human rights activist and freelance journalist for the Uzbek service of Radio Liberty, Abdurakhman Tashanov. He spread this lie through a Western radio station and then, several hours later, reposted it on his Facebook page,

thereby ensuring the wide circulation of Saida Mirziyoyeva’s disinformation.

However, the next day, October 27, 2024, the “survivor of the assassination attempt,” Komil Allamjonov, casually published a photo from a polling station on social media, demonstrating that he was alive and well.

At the same time, neither he nor the authorities provided a photo of the allegedly shot-up vehicle or any other evidence that could confirm the fact of an attempt on the president’s daughter’s boyfriend.

After the first wave of disinformation failed to achieve the desired result, Saida Mirziyoyeva expanded the scope of her lies, accusing the head of the Chechen Republic, Ramzan Kadyrov, of involvement in the attempt on Komil Allamjonov, as well as on another important figure—Dmitry Li, head of the National Agency for Prospective Projects under the President.

Media outlets controlled by Saida Mirziyoyeva deliberately continued the political provocation and manipulation of public opinion, claiming, for example, that the attackers possessed three types of weapons—two Makarov pistols and one Kalashnikov assault rifle—and that Ramzan Kadyrov had promised the criminals a reward of 1.5 million US dollars for killing Allamjonov and Li.

Meanwhile, in a politically biased and paid-for article by the British publication Financial Times, the president’s daughter’s boyfriend, commenting on the fabricated attempt on his life, stated:

“Four bullets hit the car. The attacker’s weapon—an old Kalashnikov assault rifle—jammed; that’s the best explanation for why I survived.” This contradicts the fake publication by the Uzbek service of Radio Liberty dated November 4, 2024, which claimed that eight shots were fired at Allamjonov’s car.

The absurdity of Komil Allamjonov’s words is striking. Any reasonable person understands that if a contract killing reward amounted to an impressive 1.5 million US dollars, the killers’ weapons would have functioned properly, and the target would have been eliminated with 100% certainty.

As a result of the fabricated criminal case, dozens of innocent people were sent to prison for long terms. The case was heard behind closed doors by the Military Court of Uzbekistan, and all materials were classified—not for security reasons, but simply to conceal the truth.

The so-called victim, Komil Allamjonov, did not participate in the court hearings. He gave no testimony, answered no questions, and did not look the defendants in the eye. His testimony as a victim was merely read aloud to provide legal justification for a show trial in which the verdict was predetermined and the court played the role of executor of a political order.

Particular attention should be paid to the figure of Shukhrat Rasulov, former head of the State Security Service for the protection of the President of Uzbekistan.

He was declared the organizer of the “assassination attempt” on Allamjonov and Dmitry Li and sentenced to 23 years in prison.

For background: after the unconstitutional seizure of power in Uzbekistan in the autumn of 2016, it was critically important for Shavkat Mirziyoyev to remove the heads of several law enforcement agencies—Shukhrat Gulyamov, Rashid Kadyrov, Ikhtiyor Abdullayev, Otabek Murodov, and others—who possessed evidence of serious crimes committed during Mirziyoyev’s tenure as head of the executive branch. Each of them faced criminal prosecution and received lengthy prison sentences, while the former First Deputy Chairman of Uzbekistan’s National Security Service, Shukhrat Gulyamov, was sentenced to life imprisonment.

The paradox of Shukhrat Rasulov’s situation is that, having for years participated in fabricating criminal cases against former high-ranking officials of Uzbekistan’s security apparatus, he ultimately became a victim of the very same repressive machine.
The former head of President Mirziyoyev’s security was arrested on November 26, 2024, in the Tashkent office of Kamo Vladimirovich Tumasov, a citizen of Russia and Moldova, in the presence of Dmitry Li, director of the National Agency for Prospective Projects, whom Rasulov, according to the investigation, was supposed to kill along with Allamjonov.

The 23-year prison sentence handed down to Shukhrat Rasulov should serve as a clear warning to all government officials in Uzbekistan who consider themselves “indispensable” and “close to power.” In Mirziyoyev’s regime, there are no loyal insiders—only temporarily useful people. When political expediency is exhausted, yesterday’s executors are without hesitation turned into “criminals,” “conspirators,” and “enemies of the state.”

Saida Mirziyoyeva, undoubtedly inspired by ancient palace intrigues, demonstrated her cunning and managed to demote her prominent competitor—Otabek Umarov, her sister’s husband. Like her, he had recently laid claim to supreme power in the country, and although he avoided a prison sentence, he ended up among the service staff.

Mirziyoyeva and her boyfriend confidently assumed control of Uzbekistan’s presidential administration. Both sincerely believe that their crimes will go unpunished and their scheme will go unnoticed.

But they are mistaken. They are trying to deceive us, but in reality they are deceiving only themselves. History does not forgive those who sell their country for personal gain.