Juldyz: Kazakhstan’s guiding star in literature

For nearly a century Juldyz (“Star” in Kazakh) has been a beacon of Kazakh letters. First issued in 1928, it came out of the same ferment that produced earlier journals Sholpan (1922) and Tan (1924). Juldyz debuted as Жаңа әдебиет (“New Literature”) before wartime name-changes – to Әдебиет майданы (“Literary Front”) and then Әдебиет және өнер (“Literature and Art”) – finally settling on Juldyz in 1957. Published monthly in Almaty in the Kazakh language, it was created by the Soviet regime as the official lit-art and socio-political journal of the Kazakh Writers’ Union. 

In its pages readers encountered poetry and prose championing state themes (often socialist-realism), new genres and forms, and Kazakh history and culture – essentially “the process of development of Kazakh Soviet literature” in text. Indeed, as one contemporary source put it, Juldyz’s history “reflects the development of literature of Kazakhstan in the XX–XXI centuries”. Through the Soviet era it even earned high honors, being awarded the Order of Friendship of Peoples in 1978.

Editors and contributors: the voices behind the pages

From its inception Juldyz was guided by towering figures of Kazakh letters. Its first editor-in-chief was the celebrated poet-activist Saken Seifullin (in 1928). In later decades the masthead included writers who were themselves legendary: Gabit Musrepov (novelist and later head of the Writers’ Union), Zhakyp Kabdolov, Abdizhamil Nurpeisov (author of the renowned Blood and Sweat trilogy) and Sagadat Maulenov, to name a few. Nurpeisov even served briefly as editor in 1963–1964. In the 1970s–80s the magazine was led by Shakarim Murtaza, Baltash Tilegenov, and then Mukhtar Magauin (editor from 1988 to 2006). Today it is edited by Dauren Quat, connecting its Soviet legacy to independent Kazakhstan’s literary scene.

Under these editors Juldyz published scores of Kazakhstan’s finest writers. Essays, poetry and stories by Mukhtar Auezov, Gabit Musrepov and Sabit Mukanov appeared regularly, as part of the era’s nation-building literature. The journal also introduced new voices: historian-novelist Kogabay Sarsekeev’s novel The Troubles (about the Alash-era hero Amangeldy Imanov) was serialized in Juldyz in the late 1960s. In later decades readers found work by poets and journalists such as Olzhas Suleimenov, Abish Kekilbayev, and Dulata Isabekova, whose short stories, cultural essays and criticism helped define Kazakh literature’s post-Soviet generation. (As one media study notes, “in the republican journals Juldyz and Prostor appeared journalistic articles, essays by Kazakh writers… M. Auezov and others”.)

The Soviet years: between ideology and literature

Throughout the Soviet period Juldyz’s content was tightly intertwined with ideology. Branded a “literary-artistic and socio-political” magazine, it served as a channel for approved cultural narratives. During the Virgin Lands campaign and other state drives, for example, its pages brimmed with optimistic accounts of Kazakh herders and farmers taming the steppe. Editors and writers alike were tasked with portraying the “heroism of work” and building the new “Soviet man” – often through the familiar tropes of socialist realism. Writers did not hesitate: one party historian remarked that authors “did not spare their strength” to glorify communal plans, reflecting the Communist Party’s goals.

In practice, Juldyz balanced ideology with genuine literary ambition. Even as it carried propaganda, it also published significant Kazakh literary work. Poets celebrated Abai’s legacy and revolutionary heritage; novelists like Maulenov tackled historical dramas; short-story writers explored Uzbek, Russian, and Kazakh lives under socialism. Religion and language were rarely mentioned, but Juldyz helped foster a Kazakh literary identity (albeit within Soviet frames). Its pages launched or sustained many careers. For readers, the journal was a regular fixture – large, thick, and widely read. As writer Olzhas Suleimenov once recalled, “Even the thick literary magazine Juldyz had a monthly edition of 140,000 copies. Every family would have it” (because a typical issue was so thick, nearly a hundred pages, that “every shepherd kept Juldyz in his bosom”). At its peak, Juldyz’s circulation reportedly reached 180,000 in 1972, making it as ubiquitous in rural aul’s as Prostor were in the cities.

From Soviet organ to national forum: independence and beyond

The Soviet collapse brought editorial freedom – and new challenges. In the 1990s, Juldyz shed explicit communist doctrine and began to address national history and contemporary Kazakh life. But its readership fragmented. Once independent, “magazines lost a lot more” – literary journals lost their mass audience. Printing volumes plunged: from hundreds of thousands of copies in Soviet times, Juldyz now struggles at just 3–5 thousand per issue. Like many legacy magazines, Juldyz’s role shifted from wide national organ to niche cultural journal.

Still, it remains influential. Editorials and fiction in Juldyz today wrestle with identity, language reform, modern Kazakh society and art. It consistently showcases new Kazakh-language writers alongside analyses of past masters. To maintain relevance, the magazine has also embraced modern platforms: articles and essays are increasingly available online and in digital archives. In 2020 Juldyz’s efforts were formally recognized when it won the “Urker – 2020” National Award for “Magazine of the Year” in Kazakhstan. This honor signaled that the magazine still holds prestige in literary circles, even as it competes with television, Russian media, and the Internet.

Modern challenges in the digital age

Today’s Kazakh reader is very different from the Soviet one. A 2025 survey found just over 50% of readers prefer print books – meaning nearly half consume literature digitally. Smartphone reading is widespread: about 28% of Kazakh readers now use their phones to read books and articles. In this “paper vs. screen” landscape, even literary journals must adapt. Juldyz has launched web initiatives and social-media channels to attract younger audiences, though with limited resources. And like its counterparts worldwide, the magazine contends with shrinking attention spans and a crowded media market. Its plight mirrors the broader “new era of the Kazakh reader,” where traditional cultural publications coexist with e-books and online portals.

Yet despite these challenges, Juldyz endures. It remains a training ground for new writers and a custodian of literature: each issue still features poetry, short fiction, and literary criticism in Kazakh. Its continued survival – from the high-circulation Soviet heyday to the digital age – attests to its symbolic role. As a National Library exhibit observes, “the history of the magazine reflects the development of literature of Kazakhstan in the XX–XXI centuries”. In other words, Juldyz is not just a periodical but a living archive of Kazakh literary life. In its pages, one can trace the nation’s shifting ideology and culture – from Leninist origins through perestroika to today’s independent Kazakhstan.