Most scholarship on post-Communist Croatia claims that the first Croatian president, Franjo Tuđman, intentionally rehabilitated the legacy of the World War II (WWII) Croatian Ustaša and its Nazi-puppet state. The rehabilitation of the Ustaša has been linked to Tuđman's national reconciliation politics that tended toward a particular “forgetting of the past.” The national reconciliation was conceptualized as a joint struggle of both the Croatian anti-fascist Partisan and the Croatian WWII fascist Ustaša successors to achieve Croatian independence. However, the existing scholarship does not offer a comprehensive explanation of the nexus between national reconciliation and the rehabilitation of the Ustaša. Hence, this article will present how “Ustaša-nostalgia” does not stem from Tuđman's intentions, but rather from the morphological gap occurring in Tuđman's nation-building idea. Namely, Tuđman's condemnation of the entire idea of Yugoslavism and Yugoslavia eventually brought about the perception that any historical agent advocating the idea of an independent Croatia is better than any form of Croatian Yugoslavism. Finally, the article will present how contemporary Croatian society is still seeped in “Ustaša-nostalgia” due to the hesitation of the post-Tuđman Croatian politics to come to terms with the legacy of his national reconciliation politics.

This paper is based on a study which compares repatriation policies of Germany, Russia, and Kazakhstan. The choice of cases is based on a “most similar case design.” The Russian case results in unsuccessful and unsustainable repatriation, the German case exhibits a change from sustainable repatriation to a slow termination of the program, while the case of Kazakhstan is one of sustainable and relatively successful repatriation. The main argument of the paper is that in order for a repatriation program to be sustainable, the program must contain both a practical component and an ideological component. If a repatriation program lacks ideological backing which permeates other aspects of political life in a state, then the repatriation program grinds to a halt. If a repatriation program has ideological backing, but is rendered impractical and does not meet the economic, demographic and labor market needs of a state, then the further development of the program stops. The findings of this study merit further reflection on issues of changing national identities, on transnational migration pathways, and on the “post-Soviet condition” which has set the stage for all of the aforementioned processes and transformations.

Although there is indisputable evidence of hostile perceptions, the gulf between ethnic groups has not yet caused any substantial violence between Turks and Bulgarians. Compared not only with former Yugoslavia but also with Romania, this must be upheld as a genuine success story in the endeavor to cope with ethnic tensions in post-Communist Eastern Europe. (Wolfgang Hoepken)

This article analyses a popular survey on national identity in Poland. However, the analysis of the survey is a pretext to remind one of the limitations of crude quantitative methods and to look at the Polish national identity itself. The article shows that the survey questions are far from unambiguous, and respondents might attribute different meanings to them. The survey does not “measure” national identity existing in the world, rather it serves to maintain the hegemonic concept of Polishness. It diminishes the significance of Catholicism and the perceived biological dimension of Polishness. It ignores public sentiment linking Whiteness and Polishness, contributing to maintaining the dominant image of Polishness as free of racism. Under the guise of objective research, the survey is one of the elements sustaining the image of a relatively open and inclusive Polishness. Referring to my own qualitative research and recent literature on the topic, I argue that Polish identity must be seen in terms of selective racism without racism—that is, it is an identity based on racial premises but which at the same time neglects its racial character.

This article explores how the concept of minority national-cultural autonomy (NCA) has been defined and practiced in contemporary Estonia, combining data from interviews and previously unanalyzed archival sources to trace debates and policymaking processes back to 1988 and ascertain: why (and for whom) NCA was adopted; the functions ascribed to NCA institutions; and the effectiveness and legitimacy of the model in the eyes of different “noncore” ethnic communities. In so doing, the article uses NCA as a fresh lens for analyzing the more general politics of post-Soviet state and nation-building in the country, situating this case within the “Quadratic Nexus” framework. Estonia’s NCA law is generally viewed as irrelevant to ongoing issues of diversity governance in the country. However, Finnish and Swedish minority autonomies have been established and, in recent years, there have been three applications to establish a Russian NCA. None have been approved, and yet some authors see them as evidence that NCA could (and should) have a role to play in bringing about a more meaningful accommodation of ethnic diversity. Having reviewed the evidence, however, the article concludes that this claim is misplaced.

In my paper I will present and discuss the theoretical concept of elitocide (a systematic elimination of leading figures of a society or a group) and its impact on the crime of genocide on the example of the war in Bosnia and Herzegovina 1992-1995. A systematization and scientific classification of elitocide as a sociological phenomenon bears great importance to the field of study on genocide, mass murder and human rights abuses. The scientific elaboration of new or hitherto neglected occurrences of organized violence has a significant impact on the understanding of the phenomenon of systematic war crimes and mass atrocities in modern war conflicts. In order to better understand how genocide or potentially genocidal mass murders emerge and how they can be prevented, it is necessary to modify and redevelop their conventional theoretical framework. Since the premises of modern war have changed, the science is obliged to adapt its approach to this new reality. This paper is a contribution to making the causes and consequences of mass atrocities practically cognizable and theoretically comprehensive.

The downfall of communist Yugoslavia and the democratization process that followed at the end of the 1980s have led to the fragmentation of the country, which was accompanied by several wars of different intensity and duration (1991–1999). From the ashes of what once was the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia raised six independent states: Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Montenegro, Macedonia and Serbia. The situation relating to the southern Serbian province of Kosovo, after its unilateral declaration of independence at the beginning of 2008, and subsequent recognition by parts of the international community, remains unclear. Slovenia is already in the EU, while the rest of the former Yugoslav republics, within the framework of the Stabilization and Association Process of the European Union, have the status of EU Candidate or Potential Candidate countries and are slowly moving towards EU membership.

This paper analyzes the transformation of the signifier “corruption” in the Albanian public sphere during the period 1991–2005 from a discourse analysis approach. The aim is not to trace corruption in its presence and consequences, but to show how different articulations of corruption supported different agendas. More specifically, this paper aims to show how the corruption discourse that dominated Albanian public discussion during the period 1998–2005 served to legitimize a neoliberal order by articulating corruption as inherent to the public sector and to state intervention in the economy. This meant that corruption could be eliminated through neoliberal policies such as privatization and deregulation. Through a discourse analysis of corruption it is possible to politicize the concept of corruption instead of reducing it to a static and inherent feature of Albanian culture and society.

The officially atheist Soviet Union did not tolerate any open manifestations of faith except for the rare ones it overtly allowed and covertly controlled. Since all religions were almost entirely suppressed from above, there were no visible manifestations of inter-religious intolerance “from below,” i.e. among the adherents of different faiths. Yet our paper shows that in less than two decades after the demise of the Soviet state and its official atheism, there emerged in Russia an entirely new landscape of widespread and strong interfaith intolerance from below. We describe that landscape using the data from our representative national survey conducted in Russia in 2005.

At the beginning of the 1990s, when the former Soviet republics declared sovereignty, the questions of their national histories, long neglected in the Soviet period, once again became important. In taking up the national and cultural traditions of the pre-Soviet era, as well as a literary language that had been reduced to folklore, the post-Soviet national intelligentsias began to develop their own versions of the Belarusian past. As the old Soviet empire declined, new “historical” nations developed against a background of diverse ethnicity and political struggles for power. Western scholars have discussed in detail the changes in historical writing since the emergence of glasnost'. The post-Soviet intelligentsia not only faced a crisis in historical writing and history generally within the late Soviet Union, but were confronted with what Aaron Gurevich has called a “vacuum of historical vision.”

Turkish nationalism has long presented a study in contrasts. The nationalist movement that created the Republic of Turkey sought to define the nation in explicitly civic and inclusive terms, promoting a variety of integrationist reforms. Those same nationalist politicians, however, endorsed other policies that were far more exclusionary, expelling many religious and ethnic minorities from the new nation and imposing harsh restrictions on those who remained. The seemingly contradictory nature of Turkish nationalist policies has been mirrored by much of the scholarship on Turkish nationalism, which has often viewed Turkish nationality through the lens of the “civic/ethnic divide,” with various scholars arguing that the Turkish nation is exclusively civic or ethnic. This article seeks to transcend this dichotomous way of looking at Turkish nationalism. I argue that the policies previously seen as being exclusively civic or ethnic are in fact both examples of boundary-making processes, designed to forge a cohesive nationalist community. Seen through a boundary-making perspective, the seemingly contradictory nature of Turkish nationalist policies in its early years is not paradoxical at all, but represents a multidimensional effort to construct a cohesive national community that could replace the defunct Ottoman state.

Russia’s post-1991 nation-building project has been torn between competing interpretations of national identity. Whereas the other former Soviet republics opted for nation-building centered on the titular nation, Russia’s approach to national identity was framed by the fact that the RSFSR had been defined not as a designated national homeland but as a multi-ethnic federation. This, coupled with Russia’s definition as the legal successor of the Soviet Union, suggesting continuity and a history of uninterrupted statehood, has enabled a range of rivaling understandings of how to define the “nation.” Focusing on top-down official nation-building, this article examines how, against a backdrop of shifting political contexts, structural constraints, and popular attitudes, the Kremlin has gradually revised its understanding of what constitutes the “Russian nation.” Four models for post-Soviet Russian nation-building are identified – the ethnic, the multi-national, the civic, and the imperial. Over time, the correlation of forces among these has shifted. The article concludes that, despite some claims of an ethno-nationalist turn after 2014, the Kremlin still employs nationalism instrumentally: National identity has undoubtedly become more russkii-centered, but, at the same time, the Kremlin keeps the definition of “Russianness” intentionally vague, blurring the boundaries between “nation” and “civilization.”

Political debates on the Baltics, and in particular Estonia, have often pointed to “nationalisting” and exclusive narratives constructed at the institutional level. Accordingly, emphasis has been put on the lack of opportunities for Russians to integrate into an Estonian context. While acknowledging the shortfalls of the Estonian political project, this article contrasts these views in two ways. By emphasizing people’s agency and their capacity to question, contrast, or even reject the identity markers proposed by Estonian official narratives, we maintain that the integration of Russians might be more advanced than insofar claimed by other studies. We then look at the way identities are lived in an everyday context by inhabitants of Estonia to counterpose national narratives proposed by the state and its political institutions, with the way people live and whether they accept these narratives. By doing this, we explore the role of the everyday in the reconstruction of national identity narratives, in which citizens actively participate in their individual capacity. We suggest that, from a James Scott “infrapolitics” perspective, these micro-actions have a fundamental role in the reshaping of a national identity and its acceptance among citizens.

This article discusses the development of Berber literature in Morocco and the connections between this literature and Moroccan national identity as well as the pan-Amazigh identity movement. Over the last 40 years, the political conjuncture in Morocco has led Berber writers to affirm an alternative definition of Moroccanness, not exclusively based on Arabness, but one in which Berberity is included. This article aims to shed light on modern Berber literature, and on the social space in which it is embedded. It argues that there is no autonomous Berber literary field, the literature being intrinsically bound up with identity issues, but a Berber literary space, located at the intermingling of several fields (the political field and the field of language production in particular). The article first reconstructs the Moroccan political context by exploring the Amazigh movement, its aspirations and its reality. It then focuses on the relationship between the language issues (alphabet, standardization, etc.) and the emergence of a Berber “neo-literature.” Lastly, it moves beyond Morocco into the wider pan-Berber world — the Maghreb and those countries to which Berbers have emigrated — to question the possibility of a transnational Berber literature.

This article explores the debate on local ownership in Bosnia and Herzegovina by examining the limits of international community support for reform in a divided political environment in which decision-makers and politicians have little to no interest in reform themselves. After a short review of the key issues and arguments regarding ownership in BiH, the example of education reform is presented to demonstrate the role of the OSCE as an external actor in this reform sector, and the lack of any reform progress in this field in the absence of external pressure. The article closes with reflections on whether or not external organizations can make any systemic-level impact in such a hostile reform environment, and whether the OSCE can still play a constructive role in Bosnia.

Although narratives of national identity feature territory, myths, and historical memories presumably shared by members,1 national identity formation is an ongoing process with changeable membership and boundaries.2 One of the more complex challenges to a national “imagined community” has been the significant presence in Estonia of cultural Russians3 after the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991, at that time one-third and now some 28% of the small country's population. The often grudging accommodation of cultural Russians by the titular nationality continues to draw attention from international organizations, scholars, and policymakers alike. Undoubtedly the commentary least welcome to Estonian governments in the last decade, however, has been the thunder of denunciation from Russia. In a great spillover from domestic concerns about Slavic identity to international relations, Estonia has been ranked as Russia's greatest enemy, and political figures across the spectrum have condemned Estonian citizenship and language policies.4

This article examines the effect of shared group membership on civilian attitudes regarding insurgent forces during an armed conflict. We rely on the original survey conducted in eight towns of Donetsk and Luhansk oblasts in May–June 2015. Based on the bivariate and multivariate analysis of the survey results, this article finds that a sense of shared identity with rebel forces at the start of the armed conflict in Donbas had a strong independent effect on civilian views of insurgents. Those respondents who identified themselves as residents of the region were more likely to attribute ideational motives to insurgents, report no knowledge of civilian victimization caused by rebel forces, and feel secure in their presence. By contrast, respondents identifying themselves as Ukrainian citizens were more likely to attribute material motives to insurgents, indicate their responsibility for attacks against civilians, and feel intimidated during direct encounters with rebels. These findings point to broader significance of identity cleavages in explaining the Donbas conflict.

The article asks whether the divided town Cieszyn-Český Těšín can be considered a joint “living space” in the shadow of the COVID-19 pandemic. It evaluates the impact of the pandemic on various aspects of the daily lives of the inhabitants and institutions of both parts of this divided town. Three main dimensions of cross-border integration were studied: cross-border flows, cross-border structures/institutions, and the feeling of togetherness, which represents an ideational dimension of cross-border integration. The research was based on studying narratives covering border closures in the divided town, the analysis of cross-borderness of existing Facebook groups acting in both parts of the divided town, and the results of an extensive questionnaire-based survey among its inhabitants. The border closures restricted cross-border flows, which hit cross-border commuters and damaged the quality of this divided town as a living place because it introduced uncertainty. However, the health crisis also showed the high level of mutual interconnections between the local inhabitants and a functional cross-border civic society. The local people and politicians tend to perceive the divided town as a joint living space. The level of cross-border integration highly exceeds the one usual in the “new EU.”

In an essay published in September 1962, poet Pavle Stefanovic announced that in the next census he would identify himself as a Yugoslav rather than a Serb. Writing down “Serb” on official forms, Stefanovic said, had always made the sweat break out on his forehead, plunging him into “the nightmarish vision of an individual identity imposed upon me rather than chosen by my own will, one which fills me with polar opposites: pride and shame … a feeling of innocence and of culpability.” Mixed with his pride in parts of his Serbian heritage, he explained, was horror at the atrocities committed in the name of Serbdom by the Chetniks, the Serbian monarchist forces of the Second World War. Stefanovic emphasized that he was not rejecting Serbian identity because he thought the Serbian past was worse than others. Rather, he wished to throw off the symbolic weight attached to all national pasts. By declaring himself a Yugoslav, he thought, he could show that he considered nationality merely “a sort of historic-genetic address, a fact about one's origin,” and not a primary or sacred identity. In his eyes, choosing the Yugoslav identity meant asserting his own free will against the unchosen national collective, expressing his commitment to internationalism, and separating the future from a nightmare-ridden past.

When approaching the issue of Romanian national-communism, it is Nicolae Ceauşescu's flamboyant display of chauvinistic nationalism that comes immediately to mind. Thus, it may come as a surprise for many to learn that it was in fact Gheorghe Gheorghiu-Dej, the Stalinist leader of the Romanian Workers’ Party (RWP) and Ceauşescu's predecessor, who initiated in the mid-1950s a return to the local traditions and subsequently to an ethnic understanding of the Romanian nation. True, under the reign of Ceauşescu, the communist regime engaged in sustained policies aimed at reinforcing the ethnic ties among the Romanian majority and assimilating the historic ethnic minorities. But, in the case of Romanian communism, a nationalistic turn had already been initiated during the year 1956, under the rule of Gheorghiu-Dej. At the same time, it took a rather long period, i.e. 1956–1968, for Romanian national-communism to mature.