This article investigates the politics of national identity implemented in Rijeka after World War II, when the city was integrated into socialist Yugoslavia. These national and political transitions posed various challenges to the consolidation of the Yugoslav Communists' power. The nationalities policy embedded in the slogan “Brotherhood and Unity” was the official answer to the national question, promoting collaboration among the Croatian majority, the Italian minority, and other national communities in the city. This article focuses on the definition of postwar Rijeka's image, investigating the relationship between Yugoslav socialism and national identities in everyday political practice. The negotiation of the representation of national identities in a socialist society led to ambivalences, contradictions, and contentions expressed in and through Rijeka's public spaces, highlighting the different orientations of cultural and political actors. The process of building socialist Yugoslavia in this specific borderland context reveals the balance and tension between the multinational framework and the integrative tendencies pertaining to the legitimization and consolidation of the socialist system.

“The history of Russia is the history of a nation that colonized itself.”

Russia's greatest historian has affirmed that the expansion of Russian rule, particularly its method, is of fundamental significance in understanding the course of Russian history, and the establishment of Russian power in the Caucasus has attracted as much scholarly attention as any other region where Russian imperialism spread in the last two centuries. Russia's finest literary figures, scholars of the most divergent bent, Russian participants in the conquest and, of course, native inhabitants themselves have examined geographic, political, military and economic, as well as cultural and other factors that would explain how the many non-Slavic peoples of this strategically critical region were incorporated into the tsarist empire. From such a literature a lengthy list of quite diverse tactics are testimony to the deep concern Russian leaders had about integrating its divergent societies in the Caucasus into the Russian empire. The tsarist ideal was stated in the simplest language when Nicholas I endorsed a report in 1833 that would force the native inhabitants of the Caucasus to “speak, think, and feel Russian.” Not surprisingly, one of the striking qualities of the tsarist, Soviet and, to a great degree, Western literature is that it often focuses, as does this essay, on the frustrations Great Russians experienced while attempting to conquer, pacify and assimilate the multi-ethnic peoples of the Caucasus within the Russian-dominated empire. In addition, while charting the demographic vagaries of the Caucasus most scholars have concentrated on the creeping in-migrations of Cossacks and others from the internal Russian provinces and on the relocation of mountain tribesmen (gortsy) from their inaccessible villages (auly) to valley floors where watchful Russians could “civilize” them. What is strikingly absent from such literature, part of what this essay attempts to provide, is an examination of the policy considerations that led to such decisions, particularly in the post-Crimean War period.

After the collapse of communism in Russia, which is the home of more than 14 million Muslims, there has been an Islamic revival that has been part of the process of political and intellectual liberalization of society. The major Islamic enclaves of the Russian Federation are located in the Volga-Urals, the North Caucasus, and central Russia. Russian Muslims are concentrated in the eight autonomous republics of Tatarstan, Bashkortostan, Adyghea, Kabardino-Balkaria, Karachay-Cherkessia, Ingushetia, Dagestan, and Chechnya. Most Muslims belong to the Hanafi madhhab (the juridical school) of Sunni Islam, although Dagestani and Chechen Muslims adhere to the Shafii madhhab of Sunni Islam. There is also a small Shia community in southern Dagestan. A large number of Dagestanis, as well as Chechens and Ingushes, profess Sufism—a mystical form of Islam, which is also known as parallel Islam.

As “music of commitment,” in the period from the late 1970s to the late 1980s rock music in Yugoslavia had an important purpose of providing a popular-cultural outlet for the unique forms of socio-cultural critique that engaged with the realities and problems of Yugoslav society. The three “music movements” that embodied the new rock'n'roll spirit – New Wave, New Primitives, and New Partisans – used rock music to critique the country's “new socialist culture,” with the purpose of helping to eliminate the disconnect between the ideal and the reality of socialist Yugoslavia. This paper examines the New Partisans as the most radical expression of music of commitment through the works of its most important rock bands: Bijelo dugme, Plavi orkestar, and Merlin. The paper's argument is that the New Partisans’ socio-cultural engagement, animated by advocacy of Yugoslavism, was a counter-logic to the nationalist dissolution of a distinctly Yugoslav fabric of a socialist community in crisis. Thus, the movement's revolutionary “spirit of reconstruction” permeating its “poetics of the patriotic” was a mechanism of socio-cultural resistance to political, cultural and moral-ethical de-Yugoslavization of Yugoslav society. Its ultimate objective was to make the case that the only way into the future – if there was to be any – rested on strategic reanimation of the Partisan revolutionary past as the only viable socio-cultural foundation of the Yugoslav socialist community.

The Romanian Academy (and much of the country's historical establishment) is packed with Holocaust deniers and trivializers, many of whom indulge in Holocaust obfuscation against the background of the post-Communist “competitive martyrdom” between the victims of the Holocaust and the Gulag. Quite a few of these deniers and trivializers are also former secret police informers. On closer examination, however, it turns out that explaining the reluctance to face the country's “dark past” as being the independent variable resultant of the post “Romanianization” of the Communist Party and its Securitate is a partial explanation at best. A substantially more convincing one might be provided by scrutinizing the phenomenon as the product of post-mnemonic cultural traumas.

Since the late 1980s, the interpretations of policy toward Hungary’s minorities—most notably the country’s 1993 minority law and the minority self-governments established as part of a system of nonterritorial autonomy (NTA)—have been the subject of debates in politics and academia in at least two critical respects. Aside from the declarative character of the law, foremost has been the question of Hungary’s kin-state activism toward Hungarians abroad and the implications this has carried for domestic minority issues. A second—and related—question has concerned the extent to which cultural autonomy and minority rights are in accordance with the needs of the Roma, by far the country’s largest ethnic minority group. A growing number of scholars have accepted the argument that the minority law was enacted because of concerns regarding Hungarian minorities living in the neighboring countries. In our view, it is more appropriate to ask instead how Hungary’s kin-state policies have influenced the opportunities for domestic groups, and, in particular, how Hungary fits into the broader context of post-Communist state- and nation-building projects. This is the approach we take in this article, which aims to unpack and reconcile the complex and seemingly contradictory findings on the Hungarian case. Our conclusions are drawn from a content analysis of parliamentary debates on the minority law—something that has never previously been undertaken. This is supplemented by semi-structured interviews with former and current politicians and minority activists.

In the second decade of the 21st century, the practices, discourses, and implications of nation branding have attracted growing interest from scholars in the humanities and social sciences seeking to understand the linkages between national identities, reputations, governance, and the phenomenon of nation branding. This strand of critical research, as opposed to instrumentalist approaches, is the focus of this review. In line with the scope of the journal, the review looks at nation branding research that relates to the countries of the former communist bloc. The analysis finds that the state of the field is fragmented due to its multi-disciplinary nature. It is also argued that the field may be suffering from methodological nationalism. The discussion identifies epistemological and theoretical approaches, pointing out gaps and limitations along the way. It is suggested that research in the field can be grouped into “identity studies” and “practice studies” as a way to better understand key theoretical influences. Finally, it is proposed that future research should look at nation branding both as a field of practice that merits critical examination in its own right and as a lens that can be used to investigate changes in the state of nationhood today.

Since the early 1980s, the study of political institutions has made a remarkable come-back within political science. After a long period of concentrating on the “outputs” of the political process, many political scientists have begun to give greater attention to the formal and informal structures that circumscribe political behavior: governmental departments, ministries, standard operating procedures, social norms, duties, obligations. Especially in its more inductive, interpretive forms, contemporary institutional analysis has focused less on political outcomes and more on the political process itself—the “how” questions of politics rather than the “why” questions addressed both by highly quantitative methods and by deductive, rational choice approaches. One legacy of the behavioral revolution has been a propensity for researchers to see the elucidation of why some groups win out over others in the political process as the chief end of political science. But by examining the strategic boundaries within which action takes place, modern institutional analysis—labelled the “new institutionalism” as early as 1984—seeks to remind political scientists that, quite simply, institutions matter.

The Koran and the Bible are God's grace Which is what all four holy Books embrace; To scorn and segregate this or that race Would be the darkest stains on one's face.
Aşik Veysel

Nationalist movements everywhere aim to create “territorially bounded political units (states) out of homogeneous cultural communities (nations).” Unfortunately, ethnic, linguistic, religious, political, and personal identities rarely coincide with geographical boundaries that enclose nation states. There are always groups within nation states whose identities are different from the majority. The leaders of nation states often see the presence of multiple ethnic communities within a single nation state as a sign of tension and instability, a threat to the integrity and indeed the very survival of a nation state. Consequently, they seek ways to culturally homogenize the nation so that the state and the nation come to coincide with one another.

Common religious, cultural, and ethnic bonds can hold communities together, while differences along these same lines often lead to calls for national independence, complicate nation building, and confound inter-communal peacemaking efforts. In particular, when religious differences exist between groups in conflict there is a marked tendency for such differences to become emphasized. This is not to say that religion is the root cause of all internecine and inter-communal conflict, which certainly is not the case. But conflicts become fundamentally altered as they rage on, and factors that were at the root cause of a conflict at its outset may no longer be the primary causes in later stages. That is, once conflicts have significantly evolved, the prior causes may no longer be the primary causes.

In the aftermath of the June 2010 violence in southern Kyrgyzstan, much scholarly attention has focused on its causes. However, observers have taken little notice of the fact that while such urban areas as Osh, Jalal-Abad, and Bazar-Korgon were caught up in violence, some towns in southern Kyrgyzstan that were close to the conflict sites and had considerable conflict potential had managed to avoid the violence. Thus, while the question, “What were the causes of the June 2010 violence?” is important, we have few answers to the question, “Why did the conflict break out in some places but not others with similar conflict potential?” Located in the theoretical literature on “the local turn” within peacekeeping studies, this article is based on extensive empirical fieldwork to explore the local and micro-level dimensions of peacekeeping. It seeks to understand why and how local leaders and residents in some places in southern Kyrgyzstan managed to prevent the deadly clashes associated with Osh, Jalal-Abad, and Bazar-Korgon. The main focus of the project is on Aravan, a town with a mixed ethnic population where residents managed to avert interethnic clashes during the June 2010 unrest. The answers to the question of why violence did not occur can yield important lessons for conflict management not only for southern Kyrgyzstan, but also for the entire Central Asian region.

This paper investigates the clash of (language) ideologies in Estonia in the post-Communist period. In an analysis of changing Western recommendations and Estonian responses during the transition of Estonia from Soviet Socialist Republic to independent state, we trace the development of the discourses on language and citizenship rights. Different conceptions of the nation-state and of how citizenship is acquired, together with different approaches to human rights, led to disagreement between Estonian political elites and the political actors attached to international institutions. In particular, the Soviet demographic legacy posed problems.

We use a context-sensitive approach that takes account of human agency, political intervention, power, and authority in the formation of (national) language ideologies and policies. We find that the complexities of cultural and contextual differences were often ignored and misunderstood by both parties and that in their exchanges the two sides appeared to subscribe to ideal philosophical positions. In the following two decades both sides repositioned themselves and appeared to accommodate to the opposing view. In deconstructing the role of political intervention pressing for social and political inclusion and in documenting the profound feeling of victimhood that remained as a legacy from the Soviet period and the bargain that was struck, we hope to contribute to a deeper understanding of the language ideological debates surrounding the post-Communist nation-(re)building process.

Until 1999, Kosovo was a little-known province of Serbia. NATO's intervention, however, changed this. Suddenly, everyone was talking about Kosovo and the plight of the Kosovo Albanians. Today, Kosovo is no longer a major talking point; few authors are now writing about post-independence Kosovo and the many challenges that confront the young state. Particularly striking is the relative absence of scholarly writings that discuss the Gordian knot of northern Kosovo. Seeking to rectify this neglect, this article has three core aims: to provide new empirical insights into the situation on the ground in northern Kosovo, to explore Serb and Albanian viewpoints regarding the status of the north (and in particular to examine Serb fears and concerns) and to discuss possible solutions. It argues that granting the north a special, autonomous status within Kosovo is the ultimate way to resolve the “northern problem,” and indeed this now seems the most likely solution following the recent conclusion of the First Agreement on Principles Governing the Normalization of Relations. This research is based on five weeks of fieldwork in Kosovo in July and August 2012. During this time, the author conducted 56 semi-structured interviews, 29 of which took place in northern Kosovo.

The main objective of the ethnic policy of the government of Kyrgyzstan in the post-Soviet era was a consolidation of all people and ethnic groups on the territory of the Republic into the Kyrgyzstani nation. Such a goal is important for any nation that has just gained independence, but for the Kyrgyz Republic it was an especially important task for several reasons. First, the multiethnic composition of the country: in 1991 the Kyrgyzs, or the titular nation of the Republic, constituted roughly 52% of the population, there were around 22% Russians, and the Uzbeks represented 13% of the population. Second, interethnic relations in the Republic were especially tense at the beginning of the 1990s because of the interethnic conflicts in the southern regions of the Republic in 1989 and 1990.1 Third, the Kyrgyzs themselves lacked national cohesiveness and they often defined themselves as members of different tribes or tribal groups with distinct dialects, dress, and political affiliations.

This paper examines two contrasting cases of ethnic-group political activism in China – the Uighurs in Xinjiang and the Mongols in Inner Mongolia – to explain the former's political activism and the latter's lack thereof. Given similar challenges and pressures, how can we explain the divergent patterns in these two groups’ political behavior? This paper forwards the argument that domestic factors alone are not sufficient to account for differences in the groups’ political behavior. Instead, international factors have to be included to offer a fuller and satisfactory explanation. The paper illustrates how three types of international factors – big power support, external cultural ties, and Uighur diaspora community activism – have provided opportunities and resources to make the Uighur political activism sustainable. In Inner Mongolia, its quest for self-determination reached the highest fervor in the early half of the twentieth century, particularly with the support of imperial Japan. However, since the end of WWII, Inner Mongolia has not received any consistent international support and, as a result, has been more substantially incorporated into China's geopolitical body.

This article examines civilian mobilization amidst the Donbas war, Ukraine. It focuses on ordinary residents of the frontline regions who voluntarily got together to address the humanitarian and military consequences of war in the environment of lacking state support. It explores the micro-level dynamics of mobilization, particularly the demographic profile of civilian volunteers, their motivations to join, and pathways to engagement. In so doing, it provides an account of how ordinary residents of seemingly passive regions – Southern and Eastern Ukraine – become active in times of crisis. Contrary to the mainstream accounts that credit civilian mobilization to the rise of patriotism in wartime, it demonstrates that local security concerns and affective reactions to the heightened precarity of others are crucial factors that propel collective action at the rear. In the case of Ukraine, the efficiency of wartime mobilization was increased through the structures that emerged during the proceeding Maidan protests, as well as preexisting private and entrepreneurial networks. By employing ethnographic tools of inquiry, the article interrogates the mobilizing potential of seemingly latent communities in times of crisis and contributes to the literature on wartime collective action at the rear.

This article uses Central Asian examples to challenge theories of ethnic nationalism that locate its origins in intellectual activism (Hroch), state modernization processes (Gellner), or the rise of mass media (Anderson). Modern Uyghur cultural politics and traditional Central Asian dynastic genealogies reveal related processes used in constructing modern nationalist symbols and pre-modern ideologies of descent. Modern territorial states with ideals of social unification and bureaucratic organization rely upon nationalist discourses to elaborate and rework cultural forms into evidence for the ethnic nation. The state links citizens to institutions through nationalist content used in political discourse, schooling, and public performances. Because such content is presented as authentic but used instrumentally, its contingency and fabrication have to be concealed from view: the culturally intimate spaces of bureaucratic production of culture and narratives are separated from public performances. The creation of genealogies used to legitimate pre-modern states are similar: compositional processes and goals are kept offstage, and little is disclosed in the public historical narratives and performances.

This paper explores the limits and possibilities for postethnic mobilization in Bosnia-Herzegovina. It employs and critically assesses Tarrow's classic concept of political opportunity structure for the explaining the variations in the occurrence of postethnic mobilization in Bosnia-Herzegovina, a deeply divided society. While the main cleavages in the country run along ethnic lines, a number of groups and NGOs attempt to mobilize alternative identities across ethnic boundaries. These groups are mostly based in the Federation entity of Bosnia-Herzegovina and not in the Republika Srpska. My analysis shows that the concept of political opportunity structure only partly explains this difference. I thus suggest an alternative perspective, which takes into account the cultural environment in which the mobilization happens. The first part of the paper expands on the definition of postethnic activism, explaining what it is and how I proceeded in researching postethnic groups in Bosnia-Herzegovina. The second part uses the framework of political opportunity structure for assessing the influence of environmental factors on the emergence and development of postethnic activism. The third part of the paper evaluates the relevance of the political opportunity structure framework, considers the merits of an approach which takes into account the cultural context, and suggests some further avenues for research.

The construction of New Belgrade as the new capital of socialist Yugoslavia was the most symbolic modernizing act initiated by the country's communist government. Yet, its precise meanings were suspended between the complicated and permanently transitory concepts of socialist Yugoslavia's federalism and its international aspirations. Focusing on three characteristic “snapshots” of the city's physical development, this paper analyzes how New Belgrade and its most important buildings represented the shifting concepts of socialist Yugoslavia as a multiethnic community and its even more changeable place in the world. The first snapshot deals with the years immediately following World War II, during which New Belgrade was conceived as the seat of a centralized Stalinist state in close alliance with the USSR. The second deals with the effects of Yugoslavia's break from the Soviet bloc in 1948, especially its rapprochement with the West and the start of the decentralization of the federal state. Finally, the third explores the late socialist period: the dwindling of New Belgrade's role as the political heart of the federation, and at the same time its emergence as a locus of Yugoslavia's ambition to play a leading role in international relations, especially through its activity in the Non-Aligned Movement.

This paper studies how religions, Islam in particular, play a part in the attempted reifications of “neo-ethnic” identities in Kyrgyzstan, a Turkic-speaking republic with a nomadic tradition and a Muslim majority (Hanafî Sunni Islam). In a context characterized by brutal transformations (decline in living standards, widening social inequalities, etc.) and by an increasingly failing central state whose autocratic rule appears ineffective, Islam intervenes as a paradoxical resource that is subjected to contrary uses. The traditional social link between collective identity and Islam is in fact reinvested ideologically within the framework of the new state construction. As a result a key question is what function the re-emergence of religion on the Kyrgyz political scene fulfils, especially considering broad disenchantment with politics. Islam is first re-emphasized as a national element by the authorities and, in the process, it becomes the subject of a drive towards territorialization that aims at erasing any transnational and/or pan-Islamist dimension from this universalist religion. Yet Islam and ethnicity are reinvested again in a new mode, the mode of subjectivization of religious belief, which gives rise, outside state control, to overlapping and often contradicting Islamic identities.