In Afghanistan, there has been much talk about, and international support for dealing with past injustices by developing transitional justice mechanisms. Reconciliation is being promoted as a nation-building strategy. This article argues that the implementation of transitional justice poses several challenges. First, a significant component of such a strategy is based on reconciliation taking place internally among competing armed groups and ethnic identities with the goal of transforming Afghan society. This assumes the cause of past conflicts to be internal and along ethnic divisions which limits the accountability for war crimes. It also considers violence and crimes of war as a thing of the past, ignoring the present situation. Furthermore, given the ongoing war between the US-led forces and the Taliban, insecurity and escalating levels of violence one has to question whether transitional justice can take place during a war. This article concludes that transitional justice is interconnected to perceptions of security and stability. The analysis of the present situation in Afghanistan poses critical questions as to whether memories of victims can be considered as the past in the midst of war.

This article focuses on Miroslav Hroch's book titled Social Preconditions of National Revival in Europe and it tries to build on Hroch's model of small nation-formation mainly on a methodological level. The aim is to incorporate the “subjective” dimension in Hroch's analysis of the “objective” factors that lead to nation-formation, by opening up the discursive level to investigation. I suggest that the comparative study of nation-formation needs to remain connected to the study of nationalism as a phenomenon, including the investigation of the discursive plane, of the political languages, and histories of concepts. In this sense, the article seeks to link Hroch's work to Begriffsgeschichte and to present a range of interpretations on how these two could work together, on a methodological level. The answers come mainly from Reinhart Koselleck's theorizing on the relation between social history and the history of concepts. This article also addresses compatibility problems that aim to encourage a more integrative type of analysis that would entail an in-depth and critical revisiting of Hroch's model. At the same time, Hroch's model proves to be flexible enough to be situated at the intersection of more types of history writing.

I guess after the atmospherics of ideology and so on, Alexander Motyl thought that, like Anteus, we could not stay in the air the whole time, that we would have to come down to the ground with resources.

The purpose of this article is to investigate to what extent civic commitment and the political culture from the Estonian first republic survived communism at an individual level. Have representatives of the Estonian inter-war generation who endured Soviet occupation been able to remain civically committed even though they were disconnected from democratic institutions for a major part of their lives? Sometimes labelled “republican,” this generation matured into early adulthood during an unusually formative period in Estonian history, when the new democratic state was taking shape in between the two world wars. Hence, it fulfils the criteria of a political generation as “a group of human beings who have undergone the same basic historical experiences during their formative years.” The analysis contributes to two different, although in this context interrelated, discussions. The first addresses the roots of Estonia's successful post-communist experiences, the second the extent to which early socialization endures dramatic institutional shifts.

The People's Front of Tajikistan (PFT), one of the parties to the country's civil war, was instrumental in bringing the government of President Emomali Rahmon to power. The article examines the official strategies of memorialization of the PFT from the early 1990s to the present. It discusses the emergence of a canon of the PFT heroes and martyrs and locates it within the nascent national mythology after independence. It argues that the maintenance of this canon was rendered impossible by the imperatives of consolidating presidential authority and securing national reconciliation following the 1997 peace deal. It concludes with an examination of the growing tension between the official line of historical amnesia on the one hand and resurgent social memory on the other. People in Tajikistan are increasingly interested in revisiting the events and protagonists of the war to develop a sense of the past, and remembering the PFT forms an essential part of their search for shared history and a sense of identity.

This article raises questions about the relationship between theory and practice, legality and illegality in the late Soviet nationalities policy, and the role played by various branches of power. It focuses on the Veps, an indigenous ethnic minority in the northwest of Russia. In the Brezhnev era, quite a few officials and census takers refused to register the Veps nationality in personal identification documents and during censuses, claiming, incorrectly, that the Veps were not in the official list of nationalities or that they were a people (narodnost'), not a nationality (natsional'nost'), and hence could not be registered as one. The Veps were counted as Russians instead. These bureaucratic practices, widespread in Leningrad and Vologda oblasti, but not in Karelia, contradicted official nationalities policy, passport regulations, and census instructions. It seemed that the Soviet state no longer recognized the Veps as an ethnic community. The article claims that the mass refusal to register the Veps nationality was intentional and directed by the regional authorities. The goal was to accelerate the assimilation of the Veps, a policy that worked well. The official number of Veps decreased extremely rapidly in the 1970 and 1979 censuses, only to recover in 1989, after the manipulations had ended.

This paper examines the controversial music genre rabiz in relation to political and socioeconomic developments in post-Soviet Armenia. Rabiz, an urban folk-pop genre characterized by melismatic singing and “oriental” embellishments, is a ubiquitous soundtrack to everyday life in the country, with lyrics commonly covering romance, male friendship, and family ties. Ethnographic observations suggest that its popularity draws on the affective appeal with which it captures common hardships and aspirations of post-socialist transition. In spite of this, rabiz is almost universally denounced by nationalist intellectuals and liberal citizens for foreign influences, sentimentality, consumerism, and conservatism. While for the cultured classes, the rejection of rabiz as “un-Armenian” is often an integral part of the construction of a virtuous self, the alternative conceptions of performers and fans reveal the polysemy of Armenianness as a moral category.

This article examines historical positions regarding the question of the small nation-(state) of Albania remaining “in” the larger Ottoman supranational entity and “out” as independent nation-state during the late 19th and early 20th century. It does so mainly, but not only, through the language of political economy (wealth creation and redistribution) as articulated in the thoughts and deeds of three founding intellectual and political figures of the Albanian nation-(state): Ismail Qemali, Fan Noli, and Luigj Gurakuqi. While lacking a clear political-economic perspective for this emerging nation in the late Ottoman period, all the three figures maintained that as an independent, small nation-state, Albania could survive and perhaps thrive if its wealth and national economic development remained anchored within a larger political and economic space. More than Qemali, Gurakuqi, and Noli envisaged a greater state role in the country’s “national economy-building” process. But while Gurakuqi was more of a “nationalist” on wealth creation, Noli sought to pursue a more “radical,” redistributive path to national development.

In the article, the author uses a sociocultural approach to analyze debates in the US press that accompanied “Russian celebrations” in 1813. During the War of 1812, the Federalist opposition to President Madison's administration organized several celebrations of Russia's victories over Napoleon, who was a de facto ally of the USA in its war against England. As a result, harsh debates arose about the relative merits of the Russian nation. Madison's supporters described Russia in extremely critical terms, while the critics of the administration mostly spoke positively of the distant country. For both sides, the Russian victories were just a pretext for formulating their own political views, but by using an image of “the Other,” they elaborated and affirmed two major characterizations of Russia: in one view, it was a barbaric and uncivilized country; in the other, a guarantor of liberty and a rapidly developing and freedom-loving nation. The main difference was summarized in a pamphlet publication of correspondence between Robert Harper and Robert Walsh. The article affirms that the level of civilization in Russia was not just used as an argument in domestic polemics, but was determined according to the demands of that polemic.

This article focuses on the privately created commemorative practice of getting the official portraits of three former socialist leaders as a tattoo: Nicolae Ceauşescu, Josip Broz Tito, and Josif Vissarionovich Dzhugashvili (Stalin). The mnemonic actors who have indulged in this practice after the 1990s contribute to a culture informed by vernacular memorials that conform to neither the official politics of remembrance and its aesthetics nor its content. Correspondingly, this article focuses on the aesthetic, political, and epistemic intricacies of remembering through the inked body. Unlike memorial tattoos that mark the recognition of a group that has suffered the same trauma, the commemorative tattoos analyzed in this article reflect a centrifugal set of identity concerns, ranging from Yugonostalgia to individualized spaces of self-healing and identity affirmation. The argument put forth is that tattoos can act as vernacular commemorations collected into a body archive of nostalgia for the ontological security of the past and “great leadership.” Thus, the overarching question is not how and why people materialize memories through their bodies but rather to what ends the inked body accommodates commemorative representations of former political leaders who are usually depicted in public memory as “unworthy” of commemoration.

On 4 March 1914 the Young Czech party newspaper Národní listy published the startling accusation that a prominent Czech politician, the National Socialist Karel Šviha, was a paid informant of the Habsburg imperial police. The paper alleged that for several years Šviha, who was the chairman of the National Socialist party's parliamentary club, had exchanged information on the activities of his colleagues for a police stipend. In the weeks that followed, the public was treated to a daily diet of charge and counter-charge in the Prague newspapers, a carnival of mutual recrimination that concluded with an elaborately staged public trial of Šviha in an attempt to settle once and for all whether he was truly an informant. During the proceedings leading figures of most of the main Czech political parties either sat in judgement of Šviha or testified for one side or the other, many of them displaying for all to see a level of personal animosity previously reserved for the Bohemian Germans or the Imperial government. As one observer (a National Socialist) put it, by the summer of 1914, “there was no nation in Europe as internally disorganized as were the Czechs” and according to another (a Young Czech), political life in Prague had reached a state where it was “everyone against everything.”

Over the last decade or so there has been renewed interest in the Greek civil war, with a number of important publications shifting the focus of research from the high plane of international relations and Cold War polemics to a critical history of the period, allowing unheard voices and perspectives to be heard and revealed. The volume edited by Mark Mazower, for example, places the experiences of the 1940s in the longue durée of Greek nation-state formation as well as in the wider context of war and post-war violence and resistance—the social character of which is emphasized. Yet the importance of the Greek civil war in the emergence of the Cold War cannot be underestimated as Gerolymatos makes clear. This paper, therefore, aims to demonstrate how the refugees from Greece who arrived in Poland constitute an important part of Cold War history and to show how their experience in Poland can shed light upon both the wider international context and the dynamics of nationality policy in Poland itself. I contend that the arrival of Greek refugees weakened the Polish state's drive to national homogeneity.

The purpose of this study is to present some preliminary and necessarily tentative results of a larger, ongoing and incomplete quantitative study of ethnic recruitment to and participation in central decision-making institutions in Communist societies. The time frame of the study is the post-Stalin period, more precisely, the 20th through the 25th CPSU Congresses, 1956-76. The concern of the larger study is to develop a model of consociationalism versus imperium as alternative approaches to the governance of multi-ethnic Communist societies. Clearly, a country such as Yugoslavia more closely approximates the former model, and the USSR the latter.

The relationship between peasant and Jew in Poland has presented a complex picture of mutual dependency and ambivalent feeling for centuries. Each needed the other for economic survival, yet simultaneously they often regarded each other with suspicion, mistrust, and, occasionally, loathing and fear. Nonetheless, until the emergence of a formally organized peasant movement in the late nineteenth century, it was extremely difficult to measure the actual perceptions and attitudes the peasantry held regarding the Jews. This essays traces the evolution of the stance toward the Polish Jews adopted by the peasant movement in the independent Polish Republic between the two world wars. It notes the passage of this stance from varieties of political indifference and economic concern through a phase of overt anti-Semitism, to the final stage of de-emphasizing the “Jewish Question” as a major factor in the political program and strategy of the movement.

The 20th century has been a century of political famines, that is, famines directly—and at times willfully—caused by human policies, in war1 and in peacetime. Scores of millions starved to death in times during which there was enough food to feed everyone and the means to transport it where needed.