This article analyzes phenomenon of “migrant schools” and “migrant classes” in schools that began to emerge in the 2010s in Siberian cities of Tomsk and Irkutsk. The study is based on 120 interviews with migrants and 36 express-interviews with parents of children from both local families and those that have migrated from Central Asia, as well as case studies of four schools in these two cities identified as “migrant” by local residents. Despite the ethnic diversity of these Siberian cities where most families themselves descend from migrants from other regions, the local population singles out new migrants from the countries of Central Asia as “others” in the urban space. While school administrations, teachers, and parents reproduce the narratives of tolerance and ethnic diversity, school segregation persists in these cities, manifested, among other things, in the emergence of “migrant” schools and “migrant classes” in schools. This study presents this segregation as an outcome of strategies pursued by school administrators and parents of both local and migrant children. In particular, creation of “migrant” classes in some schools is the school administrators’ response to the lack of adaptation programs for migrant children. I conclude that rather than assisting the socialization of migrant children, such schools reproduce their isolation from other pupils, limiting their ability to succeed in the future.

The Horn of Africa is the most conflict-ridden region in the African continent. Both inter-and intra-state conflicts have dominated the region. In a bid to check intra-state conflicts and accommodate ethno-national and religious diversity, federal or federal like models of governance have been proposed, discussed, and, in some cases, adopted across the region. Focusing on Ethiopia, Somalia, Sudan and South Sudan, this article discusses the origin, reasons, and prospects of the federal idea in the Horn. The article argues that the major rationale for the federal idea in the Horn is the containment of communal tensions. Yet, the track record of federalism in alleviating communal tensions has not been encouraging. This is partly related to design issues that have undermined the efforts to use federalism to address communal tensions. More importantly, however, the commitment to genuinely implement the federal idea has largely been absent.

This research explores how the post-Yugoslav film-makers, in particular Nebojša Slijepčević, Goran Dević, and Srđan Keča, investigate the dilemma of ethnic identity and face the cultural division in the post-conflict societies. The article aims to discuss cinematic representations of the other and conduct a deeper textual analysis of the film Srbenka (2018), in comparison to After the War (2006) and Imported Crows (2004). Also, the article bridges the gap between more conceptual literature on transnational cinema (Stephen Crofts, Steven Rawle, Saša Vojković), nationalism studies (Benedict Anderson, Rogers Brubaker, V.P. (Chip) Gagnon Jr.), as well as history (Tara Zahra) and more empirical analysis providing examples from the contemporary post-Yugoslav cinema. Therefore, the article demonstrates how applying theories from different disciplines enrich film analysis when investigating the otherness.

Existing studies on legal approaches to ethnic minority representation often highlight different systems’ strengths and weaknesses. While this scholarship provides important insights into the growing body of literature on minority representation, the topic remains largely under-theorized. Because systems of ethnic minority representation clarify the organizations and philosophies of diverse states, more theoretical analyses can enrich the descriptive literature. Building on the existing scholarship, this article assesses Romania’s particular version of proportional representation regarding designated national minorities. It applies two theoretical models: (1) institutional activism and (2) ethnic intermediation. The former clarifies the establishment of Romania’s post-communist constitutional provisions regarding minority organizations, and the latter explains how small yet influential minority populations make claims to and reallocate resources from the Romanian state. Through a unique, understudied case study – the Armenian community of Romania – this article attempts to broaden ethnic minority representation scholarship by refining the theoretical frameworks of institutional activism and ethnic intermediation.

Several watershed events preceded the dissolution of Yugoslavia. One of these was the toppling of the Vojvodina autonomist leadership in October 1988. This was preceded by a series of rallies throughout Vojvodina in the summer of 1988, which may have seemed like a spontaneous affair and the work of “ordinary citizens.” It was called “the antibureaucratic revolution.” However, these rallies, including a standing group of demonstrators, continually and always referring to the grievances of Kosovo Serbs, turned out to be supported by the Serbian political elite centered in Belgrade. The elite, still headed by the Serbian Communist Chief Slobodan Milošević, gave thrust and coordination to efforts to organize the rallies. The Vojvodina leadership was toppled for their alleged “failing to understand the plight of Kosovo Serbs.” The overthrow was, further, with a view to achieve the Serbian elite’s pet project, the “united Serbia”—that is, doing away with Vojvodina’s and Kosovo’s autonomy. Written sources (including recollections by Yugoslav leaders of the time) and written sources are considered in research on the events.

If the years 1988–1990 showed Gorbachev the difficul ties of governing a federation of republics whose titular majorities relentlessly strove for greater autonomy, even independence, then the last twelve months demonstrated to him the complexities of managing a federation of multiethnic republics (Appendix 3) whose minorities were no less determined to gain their share of self-rule and to pursue their particular interests. The signs of a potentially destabilizing problem were visible already prior to last April: the June 1989 incident in the Fergana valley in which Meskhetians were attacked by Uzbeks, and the long-smoldering Nagorno-Karabakh affair pitting an Armenian minority against the Azerbaijani majority. These are but two examples of bitter and violent interethnic strife percolating just beneath the surface of multiethnic societies throughout the Soviet Union.

In this article the Estonian return migration policy is analyzed from the perspective of the return migrants’ ethnicity. The time period of this study covers the most intensive phase of the state-organized return of emigrants to the newly established Republic of Estonia. The survey of attitudes of the Estonian authorities towards the return of emigrants with different ethnic backgrounds leads to the conclusions that the return of ethnic Estonians was preferred to the return of non-Estonians during the first years of Estonia's independence on both economic and political grounds. The political loyalty of non-Estonians was doubted in the administrative circles of Estonia which was especially the case with regard to the emigrants that had formerly belonged to the ruling power elites. The negative attitudes towards the return of non-Estonians were further aggravated by the crisis the Estonian economy was facing at that time. As a result, a parallel with the return migration policies of other new nation-states that emerged from the ruins of the Russian empire can be drawn.

The relationship between Islam and ethnicity has generally been studied almost exclusively from a theoretical (theological) and/or practical (historical) viewpoint of the Muslims themselves. If we observe this problem from another point of view, that of the Islamized natives, we discover that there exists a tacit consensus as to the three levels or degrees according to which Islamized peoples can be classified: (a) a maximum or even total confluence of Islam and ethnicity, as in the Arab lands and in Daghestan; (b) a partial distinction between Islam and ethnicity, stemming from a certain ‘ethnicization’ of Islam, as in Shia Iran; and (c) a somewhat vague decentralization between these two focal points, as in Turkestan, Subsaharan Africa and Southeast Asia.

The Enlightenment instilled European and European-rooted societies with certain fundamental principles which are generally taken for granted; among the most important are democracy, education, and human equality. Not all of mankind experienced this period of cultural history, but in those areas that the Enlightenment touched, a tautology functions in the collective subconscious that where there is democracy and where there is an educated people, there will be equality. Western nations—their politicians, scholars, and common folk alike—believe that a preordained consequence of the system of democratic rule in a developed country is open-mindedness and tolerance; in contrast, it is generally maintained that non-democratic governments where knowledge is evidently censored and controlled, such as those of the former Soviet Bloc, produce narrow-mindedness and intolerance.

Today, after the signing of the peace agreement in Paris, when the end of the Yugoslav war is in sight, one frequently hears the questions: Could the war have been avoided and could a confederation have saved Yugoslavia? Namely, in late 1990 and early 1991, the republics now outside Yugoslavia (Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia-Hercegovina and Macedonia) proposed that Yugoslavia be reorganised as a confederation which would, as they claimed, have fulfilled their main political aspirations. The Serbian side refused resolutely, and, soon afterwards, war started in Slovenia, Croatia and Bosnia-Hercegovina, which was actually their war of liberation. Now, when the republics in the territory of ex-Yugoslavia are internationally recognised, when they have largely recognised each other and when we are witnessing the restoration of economic and other relations between the peoples who shared a common state for seventy-three years, we may justifiably ask: Would it not have been better if the Serbian side had accepted a confederation and, thus, preserved some kind of Yugoslavia, than, by its persistent refusal, have lead the secessionist republics to take up arms?

In 1919, Polish nationalist forces led by Josef Pilsudski succeeded in re-establishing an independent Polish state. Poland had disappeared from the map of Europe in 1794 following the third partition. It had been devoured by its traditional enemies; Prussia, Austria and Russia. Historically, Poland had been a state without fixed borders, and via a combination of changing dynastic alliances and a pattern of eastward migration, from the twelfth century formerly Slav areas east of the rivers Oder and Neisse became progressively germanicized. By 1921, following the end of World War I, several peace conferences, and after a series of referenda in disputed (former) German areas and a series of wars with all of its neighbors, including an especially successfully prosecuted war against the embryonic Soviet Union, the new state had managed to become a state which incorporated virtually all ethnic Poles. However, in addition to incorporating the overwhelming majority of ethnic Poles, the borders of the new Polish state also included huge numbers of other ethnic, religious and national groups.

This article is the fifth and final in a Nationalities Papers series providing an overview of the development of Romani political group representation and administration, from the arrival of Roma to Europe up to 1971, the landmark year of modern transnational Romani politics. The article concentrates on the period between the Second World War and 1970 and the emergence of the following phenomena which distinguish this period from those covered in the previous articles: some limited Romani participation in non-Romani mainstream political or administrative structures, an international Romani evangelical movement, reconciliation between Romani political representation and the Catholic Church, national institutions created by various governments to aid the administration of policies on Roma and rapid growth of non-governmental organizations addressing Romani issues.

On 26 February 1925, the Soviet government, or the Presidium of the Central Executive Committee of the USSR, passed a resolution that, in effect, ensured the continuation of the separate development of the southern and the northern Komi, that is, the Komi-Permiaks and the Komi-Zyrians. In more detail, the Presidium decided,

To survive over time, a diaspora must create sites of belonging and micro places in which to concentrate the main elements of its “iconography” that can consolidate social networks. This article analyzes how second-generation Greeks in Italy fit into diaspora networks by investigating the ways in which they define their sense of Greekness and use their ethnic resources. The findings of field research show a weakness of (formal and informal) social network ties and the pre-eminence of the family’s role in the process of sociocultural identification and ethnic identity construction. In fact, the second generation’s “ways of belonging” and the sense of attachment to Greece have an autonomous significance and are expressed more at a familial level and less collectively. Familial socialization plays a mediating role in the process of identification and transmission of Greekness, as well as in guiding ways of employing ethnic resources, contributing to the maintenance of the diaspora.

The December 2002 issue of Nationalities Papers is my last as editor. Steve Sabol, assistant professor of history at University of North Carolina, Charlotte, begins his four-year term as editor with the March 2003 issue. I am sure he will take as much pleasure in editing this journal as I have.