This paper considers how the Alash movement, the Kazakh national movement led by Russian-educated Kazakh intellectuals in the Russian Empire at the beginning of the twentieth century, redefined Kazakh ethnicity into the Kazakh nation. Aimed at modernizing Kazakh society by declaring itself a nation, the movement used the myth of common descent. It is not surprising, then, that the movement took on the name of Alash, a mythical figure believed to have been the father of all three Kazakh zhuz (tribal confederations). This paper examines the discourse around Kazakhness and its distinction from its Muslim neighbors with respect to five factors; the “true” myth of common descent of Kazakhs, Kazakh history as one of common fate, a nomadic way of life, the weak links to Islam among Kazakhs, and, finally, the legitimization of the Alash leaders as the legitimate speakers for the Kazakh nation. This analysis, in turn, may provide a better understanding of the ways in which social and intellectual movements can redefine belonging, depending on historical circumstances and opportunities and constraints in the social sphere.

Fereydani Georgians are the only Georgian-speaking ethnic group in Iran. Despite being all that is left of the once vast and important Georgian-speaking community in Iran, this ethnic group is still largely unknown, both inside and outside Iran. There is a general consensus that Georgians have played a pivotal role in Iran's history since the seventeenth century. Despite this, the Fereydani Georgians are also still relatively unknown within Iran itself. Also in Georgia there is some (popular) knowledge about them. Nevertheless, even this knowledge is rudimentary and is plagued by a large number of misconceptions. The Fereydani Georgians are virtually unknown outside Iran and Georgia.

The 1952 edition of the Dictionary of the Czech Language defines “gypsy” as follows: “gypsy [with a small “g”]—a member of a wandering nation, a symbol of mendacity, theft, wandering,…jokers, liars, impostors and cheaters.” This definition was published two years after the Czechoslovak government outlawed any form of discrimination on the basis of color. As far as this writer recalls, the above definition expressed the popular understanding of the Gypsies as a group in the 1930s, in pre-World War II Czechoslovakia. Despite the persecution of the Gypsies during the war and the popular sympathy for them because of it, the prejudice against them have not disappeared and one can find its reflection in the official press as well as in conversations of the common people. Although one cannot generalize about members of any racial, national or religious group, it is evident from the official publications that most Gypsies pose certain problems for the regime and the society.

In a recent article in Ulitsa, Moscow journalist Denis Dragunsky asked whether Russia was an Asian or a European country. Much the same question could be asked about Kazakstan (the land of the Kazaks), particularly given its long historical ties with Russia. And it is not an easy question to answer. While Kazakstan's history is a blend of Mongol, Turkic, Islamic, and Russian heritages, there are Cossacks and Russians both in and outside of Kazakstan who feel that parts of Kazakstan belong historically to Russia. While such claims have been long and vocal, the Kazak response has been forcibly silent during most of this century. However, with the emergence of Kazakstan as not only an independent country, but a potentially powerful regional player, Kazaks have begun to reclaim their history from the Russians. And with questions about how to construct a nation come queries about ethnicity and history. What is a Kazak? Given that the Russians referred to them as the Kirgiz during most of the period that they dominated the Kazaks, and thus robbed the Kazaks of their most basic linguistic identification term, there is much to be explored and reclaimed before this people and nation can truly define itself in the context of its rich history.

To explain nationalist politics in Poland, researchers and observers have sometimes speculated about the dispositions of the electorate, popular sentiments, public fears for the loss of sovereignty, the people's historically ingrained preference for nationalist rhetoric, and their feelings of discontent about the economy. This article argues that hypotheses about the existence of nationalist sentiments within the electorate have tended to eclipse an important question about the main producers of nationalist rhetoric: Why do certain mainstream parties at certain points in time decide to frame their program as nationalist, even when there is no objective reality that seems conducive to the creation of great public concern about typically nationalist issues? This article explores this question by looking at various campaigns for Polish parliamentary elections since 1997. My argument is that when seeking to explain the motivations behind major campaign turns toward nationalism we should not merely understand them as responses to voter sentiment and voting behavior. Instead, we should see them as crucially driven by the transactional logic of inter-party competition in a party system that is in constant flux.

The post-conflict space in Bosnia and Herzegovina has been marked by a multiplicity of statebuilding projects: in addition to the much-analyzed internationally-led statebuilding process, parallel Bosniak, Bosnian Serb and Bosnian Croat statebuilding trajectories exist. They seek to undermine and challenge the international statebuilding venture by appropriating and adapting the liberal statebuilding processes. This is carried out through the institutions and processes of governance put in place by international statebuilders to subvert the statebuilding trajectory. Focusing on the local appropriation of processes and institutions of governance, the paper maps out the repertoires of contention entailing boycotts, walk-outs, protests and refusals to co-operate in an attempt to explain and understand how local contention vis-à-vis the international statebuilding trajectory is carried out.

This article examines the rise of Russkii Obraz, a Russian ultranationalist organization whose leaders cultivated a neo-fascist ideology and collaborated with skinhead gangs. Despite its extremism, Russkii Obraz played an important role in the Kremlin's “managed nationalism,” a set of measures to manipulate the nationalist sector of the political arena. During 2008–2009, Russkii Obraz collaborated closely with pro-Kremlin youth organizations and enjoyed privileged access to Russia's tightly controlled public sphere. This article argues that the key to Russkii Obraz's brief ascendancy was its duality, its capacity to project moderation in public and extremism in private. For several years, this duality enabled Russkii Obraz to participate in public life while building a support base in the skinhead subculture. But the two projects collided when the security organs exposed Russkii Obraz's links to an ultranationalist death-squad. Nevertheless, official indulgence of Russkii Obraz cannot be attributed merely to ignorance of its violent potential. This indulgence also reflected the fact that it was precisely those at the neo-fascist limits of the political spectrum who were most willing to collaborate in the regime's efforts to suppress demands for democratization.

This article focusses on the issue of “traditional Islam” in Russia and the practices associated with it. Employing an approach that combines the concepts of lived religion and everyday nationalism, those practices are taken into consideration that are often interpreted in terms of vernacular Islam and regarded skeptically, if not outright rejected, by proponents of a more global Islam. Discussed in detail are commemoration ceremonies for the dead, prayers in the cemetery, saint veneration and local pilgrimage, the mawlid celebration and the use of prayer beads. These practices indicate an outlook on life, where Muslim believers cultivate a close connection to their environment and maintain personal relations to various human and more-than-human beings, thus creating the space for an exchange crossing the boundary between life and death. The article contributes to the anthropological study of Islam in Russia and—by focusing on religious practice—specifically attempts to capture the main characteristics of “traditional Islam.”

As nations emerge from repressive regimes and societies begin to rebuild following violent intranational conflict, the notion of “facing the past” has become an increasingly important and pressing issue. How should new regimes address the crimes of their predecessors? How should societies deal with individuals who committed grave crimes against humanity? Who should be held responsible for what happened during the dark periods of violence and war?

This study concerns how people throughout Uzbekistan were making sense of the tremendous socioeconomic changes taking place in their Central Asian republic during their first decade of independence from Soviet rule in 1991. This paper analyzes talk about the daily struggles of Uzbekistanis in order to arrive at ground-level insight about the kind of postsocialist state Uzbekistan was becoming in the 1990s, and how its citizens envisioned it. The extent to which people felt empowered to understand and potentially act on social issues, I argue, depended on geographical location. Looking at a series of focus group interviews conducted in three Uzbekistani cities in 1996, I identify spatial inflections in talk about social problems. The results of the study allow us to think about the Uzbekistani state's changing bases of legitimation since the late 1990s.

Because global labor markets affect the self-assignment of academics, they also affect structural changes in migration movements. To understand the migration patterns of highly qualified academic scholars, research has focused on their mobility, including their return migration. Thus far, studies have examined migrants from Latin America to the United States, but the impacts of cultural or societal contexts on migration have not been investigated.

Based on an empirical study of Russian academics who have migrated to Germany, we propose theory-based answers to the following questions: Is trust a relevant motivation for homeward-bound academic migrants to return to their native countries, and who or what is the object of this trust? Why do these migrants, in contrast to the vast majority of interviewees, self-identify with their society of origin? Does transaction cost theory explain these academics' motives for migration? Is their temporary stay beneficial to the host society?

What was Soviet patriotism? A definition of the term offered by the Soviet ideological apparatus in 1953—a “social, historically conditioned feeling of love for one's motherland“—raises more questions than it answers. Patriotism was a concept foreign to classical Marxism; indeed, the concept, along with the corresponding term “the Soviet people,” entered mass usage only in the mid-1930s, when the Soviet government moved away from class as the dominant paradigm for interacting with its society. The relationship of Soviet patriotism to nationalism, the predominant political identity in twentieth-century Europe, was also ideologically fraught. Patriotism was sharply distinguished from nationalism (natsionalizm) in the Soviet lexicon. The first referred to a healthy allegiance to a community that was consistent with universal values of enlightenment, justice and democracy; the second was a jingoistic and reactionary ideology utilized by the bourgeoisie to mislead the working class. Despite this distinction, Soviet patriotism was supra-national, not anti-national, as it “harmoniously combined” the national traditions of the different Soviet nations with “the common, fundamental interests of all working people in the USSR.”

The mobilisation of Kosovo Serbs, barely noticeable from the capital initially but highly visible at the centre political stage between 1986 and 1988, played an important part in the political struggles of the late socialist Yugoslavia. The prevailing view in the literature is that Kosovo Serbs were little more then passive recipients of the attitudes and actions of high officials and dissident intellectuals. The elite thesis says that Belgrade-based dissident intellectuals initiated and guided the mobilisation of Kosovo Serbs, aiming to undermine the party's approach to Yugoslavia's national question and to initiate reassessment of the official policy on Kosovo and Serb–Albanian relations. According to the thesis, Milošević then took over and orchestrated the action of various groups of Kosovo Serbs in order to make the case for the removal of Kosovo's autonomy. The intellectuals and Milošević have generally supported this interpretation, claiming their role in the events leading to the constitutional change to the disadvantage of Kosovo Albanians in 1989–1990.

This past decade has seen the return of Russia into the public discourse. Moscow’s influence has been making a comeback across its old sphere of influence and in other parts of the world. In particular, there has been a lot of talk lately of Russian soft power spreading across the Balkan region, especially in Serbia. However, the concept of power can be rather ambiguous, and only a theoretically informed analysis based on empirical methods can lead to genuine conclusions. This article aims to apply an existing theoretical framework on power to the context of Russian influence in Serbia, in order to find out whether Moscow has any power over Belgrade and to gauge its extent.

Recent scholarship has poignantly argued that the founding of modern “Western” nation-states is to a large degree a product of their drawn out colonial encounters with “the East.” It is convincingly argued that “the West” constructed its own self-assured, national and supra-national identities in the process of “discovering” and “inventing” the exotic yet inferior “East.” Furthermore, a diverse body of scholarship has delineated the central role of discourses on gender and sexuality in the development of Western societies and, in particular, nation-states. If the image of “pious mother” became key to Western national self-images, it was the counter-image of the women of the harem—veiled, oppressed, and mysterious—that typified representations of Eastern barbarism. Furthermore, Western economic and political penetration of its colonies was to a large degree justified by the “gendering” of the “irrational Orient” versus the “rational Occident.” The “liberation” of Islamic women from their “oppression” as typified by the veil became central to Western “civilizing” missions, which had far-reaching echoes on the frontiers of European society.

Instead of thinking about “national identity,” scholars of nationalism would do well to study nationalism as a process of classification, treating national conflict as disputes over nationalized categories. Disputes over national classification take various forms: patriots argue over which category applies, which categories exist, and which categories have which status. Techniques for imposing classificatory categories also deserve attention. The contributors to this themed issue of Nationalities Papers illustrate the power of analysis based on classification.

The literature on “everyday nationalism” foregrounds constructivist practice theory as well as interpretivist methodologies. Our project—Making Identity Count—does something similar but with an aim to advance the study of International Relations rather than the study of nationalism. Here, we suggest that these two approaches are basically complementary, and that a theoretical and methodological cross-fertilization between them may yield new insights in both fields.

Worldwide, ethnopolitics takes on various shapes. Yet, while politics involving ethnicity can be either conflictual, competitive, or cooperative, analysts typically focus either on instances of conflict or ignore the multiethnicity of states by sticking to “the comfortable integrationist presumptions of the 1950s.” All too rarely does one find analyses of policies that work in difficult situations. This global trend is intensified in the case of Eastern Europe. As this region has suffered instances of ethnic politics gone wrong—most recently in the former Yugoslavia—many analysts assume that constructive approaches to ethnic relations are impossible, even though they are needed more than ever. Here, I outline a model of ethnopolitics which is both democratic and constructive, has been used in East Central Europe in the past, and has potential for the future. In presenting the case for ethnopluralism, I outline a promising alternative to ethnic conflict or neglect.

This is an article on Bolshevik nationalities policy and ethnic engineering, asking who, in fact, decided which populations belonged together as ethnic groups (narodnost') and thus had the right of national self-determination, and how the level of autonomy was determined for each ethnic unit. Scholars have dealt with Russian and Soviet nationalities issues for decades already, but they have turned their attention mainly to the larger nationalities (at the level of SSR, and to a lesser degree the levels of ASSR and autonomous oblast). I argue that the lower levels of national territorial autonomy in the Soviet Union (national okrug, raion, volost', and selsovet) are worthy of greater academic attention, at least from the ethnological point of view. Having this kind of low-level territorial autonomy has often been a question of to be or not to be for the small ethnic groups concerned, and hence the subject is connected with the question of preservation of cultural and linguistic diversity in Russia.

This paper offers hypotheses on the role that state social welfare measures can play in reflecting nationalism and in aggravating interethnic tensions. Social welfare is often overlooked in theoretical literature on nationalism, because of the widespread assumption that the welfare state promotes social cohesion. However, social welfare systems may face contradictions between the goal of promoting universal access to all citizens on the one hand, and social pressures to recognize particular groups in distinct ways on the other. Examples from the post-Soviet context (particularly Russia) are offered to illustrate the ways in which social welfare issues may be perceived as having ethnic connotations.