The Nazi assault on Gypsies as an undesirable group was launched in the first months of the Third Reich. By the end of 1933, the outlines of a policy of total removal and, if possible, extinction were in place. Over the course of the first year of Hitler's rule, Gypsies had been numbered among those destined for mass sterilization. The goal of preventing their propagation had been pronounced on July 14 when the new cabinet issued a statement (with the force of law) proclaiming the concept of Lebensunwertesleben—life unworthy of living—a category of person that, at the time, specifically and indiscriminately included and embraced all Gypsies. Shortly thereafter, exploratory contacts were made with the League of Nations to assess the practicability of allocating one or two Polynesian islands to which the Gypsies could be deported. By September 1933, the Ministry of Interior announced a more realizable preliminary plan to arrest persons with no fixed and permanent addresses (i.e. primarily Gypsies) and to incarcerate them in special detention camps as a means of removing them from the mainstream of society. There the Gypsies would be rendered preemptively criminally harmless, (since they were described as a potential detriment to the general German population), and biologically “futureless” (zukunftloss) by way of mass sterilization.

In retrospect, the central ingredients for a formula of genocide, for the complete extermination of the Gypsies, were all in place: an ideology which deprived them of the basic right to life; a process of law by edict, which subjected them to totalitarian rule; a hypothetical plan to deport them abroad, and a more concrete one to isolate them from the citizenry, by segregating them in prison-like compounds, deprived of all civil rights; and a technology of physical mutilation that would deny them progeny and a link with a biological future, by literally destroying the unconceived next generation. Thus, a skeletal blueprint for the genocide of Gypsies by the racial architects of the Nazi regime had been drawn up by the end of 1933 well before the first Gypsies in Germany were rounded up in January 1934.

Every nation has its own ways of telling its national story. Such narratives attempt to incorporate and explain the terms of a nation's history, culture, language, territory, economic welfare, and its citizens' sense of belonging. Some national stories are more complicated than others and require specific terminology to describe their nation and its “other.” Belarus is one of these complicated cases. Belarusian national character is often defined by the concept of tuteishaść, or “localness,” by which the people of Belarus identify themselves in relation to other nations and countries.

Turkey is fully engaged in its “hydraulic mission,” very extensively and rapidly “developing” water resources throughout its territory. The extensive hydraulic development attempts conducted by the Turkish government create local, national, inter-state, and transnational contestations among the different interest groups. A great deal of scholarly literature has analyzed the rationale behind Turkey's massive-scale hydraulic development. While some studies link Turkey's hydraulic mission to its energy and food security, others highlight the importance of domestic conflicts, as in the case of the Kurdish issue in the southeast. However, few works examine the relationship between hydraulic development and state- and nation-making processes in the early period of the republic. This paper seeks to analyze the role of hydraulic development in state- and nation-making in the context of Turkey by looking at the institutional documents published by official authorities and speeches made by key politicians. Drawing mainly upon the theory of water nationalism and its related conceptual frameworks, this study argues that hydraulic development has formed one of the important components of the modernization process in Turkey, thereby playing a significant role in its state- and nation-making processes.

This paper argues that current Western-backed approaches to conflict resolution in Kosovo have failed to alter Serbia's policy toward the region and have contributed to the exacerbation of political tensions between Belgrade and Brussels, while deepening ethnic cleavages between Serb and Albanian communities. While there is no possibility of Kosovo returning to Serbia's control, there is an equal unlikelihood that Serbian-populated regions of Kosovo, especially the north, will submit to Pristina's authority. Most importantly, there is little hope that Kosovo can gain full international recognition and membership in international organizations without a compromise settlement with Serbia. While territorial partition has long been a suggested option, I conclude that the best possible solution for Kosovo, given the positions of all parties involved, is a process of significant decentralization beyond the internationally supported measures in the Ahtisaari Plan. A model of consociational power sharing is one in which Serbian and Albanian municipalities are granted high levels of autonomy similar to arrangements made for Bosnia. While this solution may not be ideal and further weakens central authority, I argue that consociationalism reduces the problems of ethnic conflict, encourages local self-government, and preserves the overall territorial integrity of Kosovo.

Stalin’s collectivization campaigns and the associated famine killed millions in Ukraine and Kazakhstan, yet the two countries commemorate the events quite differently. In Ukraine, the Holodomor (death by hunger) occupies a prominent place in the public sphere and is remembered most frequently as a genocidal policy against the Ukrainian nation. In Kazakhstan, the famine takes up little space in the public arena, and officials remain reluctant to call it a genocide. This article explores these differences using two models explaining variation in the politics of memory: one emphasizing the instrumental calculations of political elites and the other emphasizing the historical and cultural constraints that frame contemporary debates. These two models complement each other rather than compete. The contest over the famine in Ukraine was in part a consequence of eastern and western Ukraine’s differing histories, but it intensified when governing politicians deployed the memory of the famine instrumentally in the 2000s. In Kazakhstan, political calculations led the regime to emphasize unity and stability over divisive debates about the past, but historical factors made depoliticizing the famine feasible.

The war in Donbas led some observers to speculate that this event might threaten intergroup relations in Ukraine. While studies in the 1990s indicated relatively positive attitudes between the different ethnic and linguistic groups, it has not been analyzed systematically how these attitudes have developed over time. Such an analysis contributes to our general understanding as to how war and nation-building politics affect attitudes toward minorities. Analyzing survey data from the Kyiv International Institute of Sociology from 1995 to 2018 using multivariate statistical methods, I show that the prejudice toward Russian-speaking Ukrainians – measured using the social distance scale – has increased since 2014, when both the war and Poroshenko’s presidency began, although the rise is rather small. A likely explanation to this phenomenon is the perceived link between Russian speakers and Russia as the aggressor in the war. The fact that Yushchenko’s presidency (2006–2009) did not result in a similar increase of negative sentiments, despite similarities between Yushchenko’s and Poroshenko’s identity politics, allows me to suggest that the higher level of prejudice under Poroshenko cannot be solely explained by the political rhetoric promoting an ethnic Ukrainian identity. However, the interplay of political rhetoric and war might have been relevant.

This article examines the novel Final Respects by Abdi-Jamil Nurpeisov from a postcolonial ecocritical perspective. Nurpeisov was one of the first Kazakh writers to discuss the decolonization of the environment and the “process of self-apprehension” by writing about the tragedy of the Aral Sea, power relations between the center and periphery, and the interconnectivity of humans and the environment in the Soviet Union. Through the prism of a small fishing village, he shows the tragedy of a nation that has an impact on the entire world. The novel is thus a critique of anthropocentric policies imposed by Moscow on Kazakhstan and other Soviet republics. Throughout the text, Nurpeisov reiterates the connection between the local and the global on one hand, and human culture and the environment on the other.

In addition to rapid economic decline and the persistent political violence in the province of Kosovo, in the 1980s Yugoslavia experienced a veritable renaissance of nationalist ideologies of the “dominant nation” type. According to this kind of national ideology, its target nation is historically predetermined to be politically dominant on a given territory which is then chosen by the national ideology in question. From 1971–1972, when the Croat nationalist movement and the Serbian liberal communist elite was suppressed by Tito until the early 1980s, publication of any nationalist writings was effectively banned in all parts of Yugoslavia, except in Kosovo. While ending public polemics by national ideologues, the ban confined nationalist polemics to the closely watched realm of intellectual dissidence. At that time, intellectual dissidents aimed primarily at the delegitimisaton of the communist regime in Yugoslavia. For this purpose, nationalist—as opposed to liberal—dissidents argued that the Yugoslav communist regime not only intentionally belittled and disadvantaged their respective nations, therefore benefiting the competitor nation(s), but also that it had betrayed their respective nations’ national goals. However absurd these claims may appear when taken together, they reveal how limited the target of each national ideology was: it targeted only “its” nation, in the attempt to prove that the communist regime had failed that nation alone and should not have the right to rule over it. These “dominant nation” ideologies stood in sharp contrast to the official Yugoslav Communist Party ideology of “equal nations,” which maintained the equality of all nations and nationalities in all parts of Yugoslavia; according to the official ideology, no nation in Yugoslavia was, in theory, politically dominant in any part of Yugoslavia.

Since the 1990s, yet another entity has emerged among the wide range of groups and minorities in the Balkans attracting the attention of politicians, scholars and the public. Known as “Egypcani” in Macedonia and Kosovo, or as “Jevgs/Jevgits” in Albania, these Albanophone Muslims are usually identified as Albanianised “Gypsies” by the societies in which they live, although they consider themselves to be descendents of Egyptian immigrants to the Balkans. Today, Balkan Egyptians are officially recognised as a distinct population group in the Republic of Macedonia, while they enjoy political influence through representative and cultural organisations in Kosovo and Albania.

The study analyzed whether the dissolution of Yugoslavia and the establishment of succeeding mono-national states was the expression of “longing” of mass proportions on the part of the nationalities within respective federal units. Using the data from two pan-Yugoslav surveys from the period preceding the dissolution, results were obtained that indicated a very limited support for this hypothesis. More specifically, results indicated that support for emancipation was rather weak, among youth in 1986 and even among the adult population in 1990, although some significant mean differences between the federal units and between major nationalities within them were evident. Specifically, opinions favoring independence were detected among Kosovo Albanians and later among Slovenians in Slovenia. In addition, findings also indicated that those with higher socioeconomic status were not more inclined toward independence. Results thus pointed more towards the idea that the dissolution was indeed instigated by a small group of “political entrepreneurs” not captured by the survey data.

This paper is a contribution to the debate about how people in Central Asia recall Soviet ethnic policies and their vision of how these policies have shaped the identities of their peers and contemporaries. In order to do so, this paper utilizes the outcomes of in-depth interviews about everyday Soviet life in Uzbekistan conducted with 75 senior citizens between 2006 and 2009. These narratives demonstrate that people do not explain Soviet ethnic policies simply through the “modernization” or “victimization” dichotomy but place their experiences in between these discourses. Their recollections also highlight the pragmatic flexibility of the public's adaptive strategies to Soviet ethnic policies. This paper also argues that Soviet ethnic policy produced complicated hybrid units of identities and multiple social strata. Among those who succeeded in adapting to the Soviet realities, a new group emerged, known as Russi assimilados (Russian-speaking Sovietophiles). However, in everyday life, relations between the assimilados and their “indigenous” or “nativist” countrymen are reported to have been complicated, with clear divisions between these two groups and separate social spaces of their own for each of these strata.

This article is based on the assumption that norms can help better understand one of the expressivist aims of transitional justice, that of building a new narrative about the past. The main argument is that focus groups, as an interactive method of inquiry, are well suited to investigating how this “judicial” narrative interacts with the official and dominant war narrative in Croatia. Focus groups are more adept at this than other methodological approaches since they can effectively reflect independence of opinion; they lead to more truthful answers through spontaneity; they effectively probe taken-for-granted concepts; and they can more easily overcome distrust in post-conflict societies, especially with ex-combatants. The approach faces new challenges in such a situation since recruitment problems, insider/outsider status, and posttraumatic stress disorder, among other ethical concerns, present problems that often arise due to the group process. The powerful and unpredictable effect of the group dynamic can, therefore, provide a deep exploration of social norms, but it can also cause significant upset among participants. In this instance the methodology explores how widely accepted the war narrative is, how it is constructed, and how important the public believes it is not to question it.

This paper examines the relationship between European integration and ethnonational demands with the example of selected regions in the European Union (EU). It follows the theoretical premises of new regionalism and explores the ways in which ethnonational groups use the opportunities and resources of European governance to express their identities, material interests, and political demands. Methodologically, it conducts a plausibility probe of the potential effects of European integration on ethnonationalism by testing for regional differences in identities, interests, and political attitudes. The case studies are drawn from the UK (Wales and Scotland), Belgium (Flanders), Austria (Carinthia and Burgenland), Romania (Northwest and Center regions), and Bulgaria (South-Central and South-Eastern regions) as a representative selection of regional interests in the EU. The paper finds that European integration affects ethnonational groups by reinforcing identity construction in the direction of inclusiveness and diversity. Although regional actors are more supportive of the EU than the European publics in general, they also seek access to representation in the authority structures of the state. Based on these findings, the paper concludes that European integration facilitates a growing public acceptance of its resources, in parallel with persisting allegiances to the nation-state, the community, and ethnoregional distinctiveness.

In Kazakstan, as the meaning of Soviet citizenship recedes into the past, the question of Kazak identity comes to the fore. The framing of Kazak national identity is generally configured in relation to the Three Zhuzes, in common parlance referred to as “hordes” but more properly translated “hundreds.” Multiple means of defining Kazak ethnicity emerge either to challenge or reinforce legacies of the past. Traditional concepts of the past may alternately reinforce or break away from stereotypes informed by Russia, by the “civilizing” factors of Islam, or by the nineteenth-century imperial West, depending upon external conditions of military or financial power.

The article analyzes the “sacred” dimension of the Ukrainian “Orange revolution”, its festive or carnivalesque quality, and properties of a communal ritual. The author argues that Ukrainian citizens who protested against the stolen elections in Kyiv found themselves in the liminoid situation of temporary egalitarian utopianism. This situation resulted in the emergence of communitas, and engendered a powerful feeling of the birth of a civic-republican Ukrainian nation. The festive nature of the “Orange revolution”, sanctioned by the overwhelming confidence in fighting for the rightful democratic cause, reinforced the impression of renewing the society along Western liberal democratic patterns.

The article explores the current stalemate in the Nagorny Karabakh conflict, and perspectives for conflict transformation. As the conflict has remained dormant for more than 20 years, the political systems of the countries engaged in the conflict have adjusted to the conflict situation. The conflict is often used by the political elites in order to legitimize their power, consolidate support, marginalize opponents, and neutralize democratizing pressures. Since the status quo serves the interests of the authorities, the ruling regimes do not have strong incentives to seek conflict resolution. In these conditions, conflict transformation approaches are considered a necessary means to deal with the conflict. Given that political elites have little incentive to implement such transformation, civil society actors come increasingly to the fore. Only through multitrack initiatives supported by civil society actors, we argue, can conflict transformation practices advance and subsequently bring peace to the region.

This article addresses the relationship between the concepts of national identity and biopolitics by examining a border-transit camp for repatriates, refugees, and asylum seekers in Germany. Current studies of detention spaces for migrants have drawn heavily on Agamben's reflection on the “camp” and “homo sacer,” where the camp is analyzed as a space in a permanent state of exception, in which the government exercises sovereign power over the refugee as the ultimate biopolitical subject. But what groups of people can end up at a camp, and does the government treat all groups in the same way? This article examines the German camp for repatriates, refugees, and asylum seekers as a space where the state's borders are demarcated and controlled through practices of bureaucratic and narrative differentiation among various groups of people. The author uses the concept of detention space to draw a theoretical link between national identity and biopolitics, and demonstrates how the sovereign's practices of control and differentiation at the camp construct German national identity through defining “nonmembers” of the state. The study draws on ethnographic fieldwork at the Friedland border transit camp and on a discourse analysis of texts produced at the camp or for the camp.

When Kosovo declared its independence in 2008, it did so not as a nation-state, but as a “state of communities,” self-defining as multiethnic, diverse, and committed to extensive rights for minorities. In this paper, this choice is understood as a response to a dual legitimation problem. Kosovo experienced both an external legitimation challenge, regarding its contested statehood internationally, and an internal one, vis-à-vis its Serb minority. The focus on diversity and minority rights was expected to confer legitimacy on the state both externally and internally. International state-builders and the domestic political elite in post-conflict Kosovo both pursued this strategy. However, it inadvertently created an additional internal legitimation challenge, this time from within Kosovo's majority Albanian population. This dynamic is illustrated by the opposition movement “Lëvizja Vetëvendosje” (Self-Determination Movement), which rejects the framing of Kosovo as first and foremost a multiethnic state. The movement's counter-narrative represents an additional internal legitimation challenge to the new state. This paper thus finds that internationally endorsed “diversity management” through minority rights did not deliver as a panacea for the legitimacy dilemmas of the post-conflict polity. On the contrary, the “state of communities” continues to be contested by both majority and minority groups in Kosovo.

Relating nationalism to other ideologies or cultural value systems is an enigmatic scholarly activity. The enigma lies in the kaleidoscopic nature of nationalism and the ease with which it adapts to philosophically opposed ideologies. Nationalism, for instance, often assumes ties to liberalism, even though it presupposes a strong commitment to a national community that transcends individualism. It accommodates conservatism fairly well despite nationalism's modernizing mission, and it has often been paired with communism, regardless of the latter's internationalist rhetoric. Finally, nationalism and religion often go hand in hand, despite their deep philosophical incompatibilities and asymmetries. For example, nationalist ideologies often encourage violence against outgroup members even where religious doctrines strictly prohibit physical force. Inherently local, philosophically poor, and limited in scope or outreach, nationalism lacks a belief in afterlife salvation or in creative intelligence as source of meaning behind the universe. Yet it frequently dominates identity construction, overshadowing the primacy of Christianity or Islam which are universal in their message of salvation.