It is almost beyond belief that Mongolia’s railway sector, after all these decades, has failed to find the resources to repair, upgrade, and properly maintain its handful of passenger train—or, at the very least, to install basic air-conditioning. Yet, as the Criminal Police have revealed, the public is well aware that the so-called “little bosses” of the sector have billions of tugrugs quietly stashed away in their own homes. The long-repeated refrain from Ulaanbaatar Railway’s leadership—that the railways have operated like a loss-making charitable organization—has worn thin, and passengers no longer buy into it.
For years, the demands of the public have been neither ambitious nor unreasonable: renew the passenger train, improve the quality of service, and replace the beds, bedding, and fixtures that have been faded and frayed for 60 or 70 years.
Just days ago, Mongolia marked the 87th anniversary of the birth of its railway system and the 76th anniversary of the Mongolia–Russia joint venture Ulaanbaatar Railway (UBTZ). As tradition dictates, railway employees celebrated in grand style at Khuliin Gol and Khonkhor Station, complete with wrestling tournaments—an event still vivid in the minds of readers. Over the years, this celebration has become a “kingdom within the state”, holding its own separate national-style festival.
Each year, renowned wrestlers with national and provincial titles are invited to compete, lavish prizes are distributed, and Khonkhor Station becomes a hub of exuberant revelry. This year, for example, Ulsiin Arslan (runner-up in the final round of the Naadam Festival) B.Orkhonbayar claimed victory, while Ulsiin Avarga (winner of the final round of the Naadam Festival) O.Khangai took second place. Adding to the spectacle, famous singers, dancers, musical groups, and high-priced celebrity hosts were brought in to entertain. Yet, while hundreds of millions—and in some cases, billions—of tugrugs are poured into these festivities, the company has gone all these years without installing even an electric fan in its passenger coaches, let alone replacing broken utensils or torn curtains. This contradiction did not escape the public’s notice, and in recent anniversary celebrations, criticism was sharp.
UBTZ operates a 1,520 mm-gauge line stretching 1,815 kilometers, which as of 2024 makes up over 90 percent of Mongolia’s entire rail network. With around 17,000 employees and more than 330 passenger trains, the company completed 2,625 trips last year and plans to increase that to 3,125 this year. According to the Ministry of Road and Transportation, 37.5 million passengers traveled by train in just the first quarter of 2025. Yet dissatisfaction among passengers has reached new heights. Many say they only reach their destinations after enduring great frustration, discomfort, and, at times, outright misery.
Citizen A stated that “The leadership of Ulaanbaatar Railway must take immediate action to equip passenger trains with modern air-conditioning systems. Every single day, thousands of foreign and domestic travelers, including tourists, use Mongolia’s railways. Recently, I traveled on the Ulaanbaatar–Erlian–Ulaanbaatar international carriage, paying nearly 600,000 MNT each way—more expensive than flying to Erlian, Hohhot, or even Beijing—yet the service was appalling. The ticket price did not even include a single cup of tea or coffee. Instant noodles cost 6,000 MNT, and even a tiny packet of instant coffee came at a ridiculous price.”
“Worst of all, passengers are forced to travel in conditions so stifling that they are practically marinating in their own sweat and odors. These ancient, crumbling trains are endured not only by travelers but also by small traders and the railway staff themselves—conductors, attendants, and other workers—under shockingly harsh conditions. In winter, passengers risk carbon monoxide poisoning from coal stoves; in summer, they suffer unbearable, suffocating heat. If this is the reality in a private compartment, one can only imagine the ordeal faced by those packed into open-plan or general-seating coaches,” said the citizen. 
Moreover, Citizen B also said “In the past 80 years, it seems the only things that have grown in the railway sector are the egos of its leaders and the bulge of their wallets. The few white-colored ‘international’ trains have air-conditioning systems, but the green passenger trains used by ordinary citizens don’t even have fans. I remember traveling in these exact same trains back in the 1990s when I was doing small-scale cross-border trade. The stale, damp stench of the toilets is still the same, and the bedding and mattresses are as filthy and outdated as ever. It’s a complete disaster—what century are we living in? If the leadership had even the slightest sense of shame, now would be the time to put it to use.”
According to Citizen V, “In Russia, even their regular regional trains—not international, not VIP—are equipped with air-conditioning, showers, fully functional toilets, and automatic doors. They’re genuinely comfortable. Meanwhile, our trains are unbearably hot, and before long, both children and adults are flushed red from the heat. For passengers with high blood pressure or heart conditions, the situation is extremely dangerous. At stations, people resort to leaning their heads out of the carriage doors just to get a breath of fresh air. Even traveling in a private compartment feels like a punishment. And yet, they claim ticket prices have barely changed. In reality, in 2019, a ticket from Ulaanbaatar to Irkutsk on the Ulaanbaatar–Moscow train cost 125,000 MNT; by 2022 it was 203,000 MNT, and now it’s 435,000 MNT. Compare the service and environment on that route with the Russian side—it’s day and night.”
Citizen G said, “Trains that have reached the end of their service life and are beyond repair should be retired and replaced in phases. Instead, these worn-out, dilapidated wagons have been kept running until they’re practically falling apart. It’s exhausting dealing with leaders whose greed knows no bounds. Inside, children cry from the lack of air, and even the tea and coffee sold are of the lowest quality imaginable. We may be the only country left in the world whose trains still dump human waste directly onto the tracks. Even regional passenger buses in Mongolia now have Starlink internet, but on our trains, charging your phone, using Wi-Fi, or watching television is still a far-off dream. No wonder the saying has emerged, If you ever feel like ending your life, try traveling by train in the summer”.
Passengers are forced to endure these punishing conditions, while railway employees carry the full weight of the system on their shoulders under equally harsh circumstances. Recently, social media was abuzz with a post claiming, “The train is on fire while moving.” In reality, no carriage or train had caught fire—the train simply looked that way, as railway officials later explained.  
The truth is that Ulaanbaatar Railway—jointly owned in equal shares by Mongolia and Russia—has gone decades without modernization, pays not a single tugrug in taxes to the Mongolian state, and continues to operate with locomotives so old they could be displayed in a museum. It’s even said that South Korean filmmakers, when producing a movie about North Korea, came to Mongolia to shoot footage of our outdated carriages for authenticity.  
For a landlocked country, railways are a vital sector. After the collapse of socialism and the breakup of the Soviet Union, most countries took ownership of their rail networks—yet Mongolia remains dependent to this day. Industry experts stress the need to amend the joint venture agreement so that UBTZ pays taxes to the state. But our government shows no sign of even considering it.  
On the occasion of UBTZ’s 75th anniversary, the company was even awarded the title of Hero of Labour of Mongolia. When it comes to receiving awards, bonuses, and celebrating with lavish feasts, the executives move as swiftly as a lasso horse at full gallop; but when it comes to repairs or modernization, they remain as immovable as a stone cliff.  
While the rest of the world races to produce faster trains—competing in kilometers per hour—we seem content with a service that takes 15 hours to cover 700 kilometers, and our executives appear equally satisfied. Take China, for example: its high-speed rail network is expanding at a staggering pace. As of today, it has built the world’s longest high-speed rail system, stretching 48,000 kilometers—two-thirds of the global total—and has put into service the most advanced, fastest passenger trains in the world. This network carries 16 million passengers daily and sells an average of 26 million tickets per day. By the end of last year, China’s entire railway network had reached 162,000 kilometers in length.  
In February, Mongolia’s Minister of Road and Transportation B.Delgersaikhan announced plans to work with China and Russia to modernize passenger carriages. Yet industry insiders admit this is currently impossible. When asked about recent repairs, upgrades, and planned projects for passenger trains, UBTZ representatives responded, “We have no funds to renew the passenger fleet. For decades, UBTZ has been transporting passengers and cargo at a loss as part of its social responsibility. The government has also kept transport tariffs artificially low for many years. This is the main reason for the sector’s stagnation. However, after increasing passenger fares by 50 percent in 2023, we’ve been able to reduce losses. Where we used to face an average annual deficit of 60 billion MNT, we’ve now managed to cut that by half.”

Published Date:2025-08-17