A soyuz rocket sits on a pedastool in downtown Baikonur. Photo by Flickr user alexpgp (CC-usage)

Editor’s note: This is the first part in “Astrostan”, a series of posts on the historical and social importance of the Space Program in Kazakhstan.

Deep inside Kazakhstan’s seemingly endless steppe sits a well-kept secret: the largest and oldest operational space center.  While technically no longer a secret, it is almost unknown outside the former Soviet Union.  The former secrecy of this site owes much to Soviet policy and military sensitivity.  While admittedly not the most advanced, photogenic, or accessible of space centers, it arguably remains the busiest.  This is even more amazing when one considers how little maintenance and upkeep the center receives when compared with other space facilities.  Baikonur has an impressive history, being absolutely central to the Soviet Space Program, and home to a laundry list of amazing achievements and space “firsts.”

Shrouded in Secrecy

One of the reasons the site remains unknown and unvisited is the confusion surrounding its name and its location.  The names used by the Soviet Union were designed to confuse Western intelligence.  There are three sites that are confused: first is the cosmodrome, second the small city that houses staff and scientists near the cosmodrome, and the third is the larger city with rail connection to Russia.

In reality, the town with rail connection was named Төретам (Tjuratam/Tyuratam).  It predated the Space Race, though it was its rail spur to a Gulag-era mine that inspired its selection as the perfect missile test site.  After the successful flight of Gagarin and the dawn of manned space flight, the Soviet Union was required to name the launch site by the International Aviation Federation in order to claim the world record.  The USSR registered the report in July of 1961, saying that Gagarin’s rocket Vostok launched from a “cosmodrome” near Baikonur.  Baikonur happened to be the next town that was in the path of rockets leaving the atmosphere.  However, Baikonur was, and remains, about 200 miles to the northeast, effectively hiding the actual location of the cosmodrome.

Google Maps - showing both Baikonurs

The small army of military, scientific, and service personnel involved were also kept in the dark, and letters to them had to be sent to PO boxes in Moscow and Leningrad, similar to other closed cities.  The name of the railway station remained Tyuratam, but the town that grew around it became known locally as Leninsk.  Adding to the confusion, following the end of the Soviet Union and Russia’s leasing of the cosmodrome from Kazakhstan, Yeltsin renamed Leninsk to Baikonur, as if to make the past deception disappear.

The name “Baikonur” is itself a bit of a mystery to me.  It seems simply enough – Байқоңыр in Kazakh is a combination of two simple words: бай and қоныр.  The problem is that these words are both adjectives and nouns.  Бай can mean wealthy, rich, powerful – or a person that has those characteristics.  Қоңыр is the color brown, which seems simple enough.  Following are translations that I have seen for Baikonur: Wealthy brown, Master with the light brown hair, Place of fertile plains, etc.  Which was originally intended is unknown to me, and there does not seem to be a definitive answer available on the internet.

Another reason the site remains so illusive is that, while being wholly inside the independent republic of Kazakhstan, it is leased to and administered by the Russian Federation.  The lease will continue until 2050, though there has been speculation that Russia wants to develop other launch sites inside its own territory.  Baikonur lies 1,300 miles southeast of Moscow – about a three hour flight.  Though far south of Moscow, the site is at a similar latitude to the northern states of the USA, lying at about 45 degrees  north, 63 degrees east.  The annual temperature averages 55 degrees Fahrenheit, but ranges from minus 25 degrees Celsius in winter to a scorching 50 degrees Celsius the summer.

Baikonur began as a missile test site, and while it housed the Soviet Space Program, there were also several ICBM launch sites.  Upper atmosphere nuclear tests were also launched from Baikonur.  The Soviet government claimed until its final days that all large payload and manned flights launched at 47.3 N/65.6 E, which was observably false.  These are coordinates for a stretch of empty steppe between the two Baikonurs.

Russian identified launch pad - 47.3N 65.5 E

Gargarin's Start, at 45.5 N, 63.2 E

The Town of Baikonur

After independence, Kazakhstan found itself the owner and administrator of the Baikonur Cosmodrome. The town of Baikonur quickly fell into disrepair. This was not unique to Baikonur in Kazakhstan, nor was Kazakhstan alone during these times of trouble. Indeed, throughout the former Soviet Union infrastructure began to fall apart, and whole districts in certain cities became abandoned. Fires were started that could not be stopped, and water-supplies failed, sometimes catastrophically. Local residents petitioned for their “release,” hoping to leave Kazakhstan for their homes in Russia. As most of the population was either military or scientific, with strong ties to Moscow, they now found themselves in a foreign country, far away from home.  An unknown percentage of the town left during the first half of the 1990s, and entire apartment blocks were deserted.

This limbo lasted until 1995, when Russia agreed to pay Kazakhstan an estimated $115 million dollars every year until the contract’s end in 2050. Following the signing, Baikonur came under Russian administration, and was officially renamed “Baikonur.” Up to that point, the town was still referred to locally as Leninsk.  By 1996 Baikonur had re-entered the ruble zone, and the starved town was allocated over 700 billion rubles for repairs and development. Though less than half of that was actually provided, the city was able to struggle on. By the end of the 1990s, thanks to incoming cash flow from commercial launches, basic repairs began to be met. By the time Internet access came to Baikonur, it resembled other reborn cities in the former Soviet Union: maybe a little worse for wear, but definitely still operational. With the birth of space tourism, a Western-style luxury hotel opened up, also bringing its own brand of “firsts” to Baikonur, like lawns with sprinkler systems and central air conditioning.

As to what the future holds for Baikonur, I’ll leave that to another post.

Next up: Baikonur: Past and Future – Part II
Disasters of the Soviet Space Program