Good neighbors are rare. Those who are most proximate might offer the potential for mutual assistance and reassurance. Mistrust and rivalry, however, seem endemic among individuals and groups sharing space and resources. Schopenhauer's simile refers to porcupines who huddle together in the winter to keep warm, but separate as they feel each other's quills, until they discover “a mean distance at which they could most tolerably exist.” Referring to Schopenhauer, Freud observed that “No one can tolerate a too intimate approach to his neighbor.”

The registration of citizens' ethnicity (“nationality”) in official documents was commonplace and often obligatory in the Soviet Union, and the practice continued in the Russian Federation through the 1990s. In 1997, the Yeltsin government replaced the Soviet internal passport with a new one not featuring the “nationality” entry. The new document was met with an instant wave of protests from Russia's regions, above all the ethnically defined federal subjects. They objected to the removal of the “nationality” entry, and also because the passport (unlike the Soviet one) did not have a section in the federal subject's own language(s) besides Russian, and did not display the emblems of the region in question.

Two main myths constitute the founding basis of popular Polish ethnic nationalism: first, that Poland-Lithuania was an early Poland, and second, that the partitioning powers at all times unwaveringly pursued policies of Germanization and Russification. In the former case, the myth appropriates a common past today shared by Belarus, Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, and Ukraine. In the latter case, Polonization is written out of the picture entirely, as also are variations and changes in the polices of Germanization and Russification. Taken together, the two myths to a large degree obscure (and even falsify) the past, making comprehension of it difficult, if not impossible. This article seeks to disentangle the knots of anachronisms that underlie the Polish national master narrative, in order to present a clearer picture of the interplay between the policies of Germanization, Polonization, and Russification as they unfolded in the lands of the partitioned Poland-Lithuania during the long nineteenth century.

There have been Roma or Gypsies in Hungary for over 650 years. Historical records indicate that they entered Hungary between 1416 and 1417 from Transylvania during the reign of King Sigismund (1387–1437), though linguistic evidence indicates that they had begun to settle there earlier. In 1423, Sigismund granted the Gypsy leader, Ladislas, and his followers, certain rights of transit, and they began to flock to Hungary. Most settled in the outskirts of villages or towns, and became prominent in some parts of the country as blacksmiths.

From the outset, the Gypsies were subjected to varying degrees of discrimination. In the 18th century, Empress Maria Theresa (1740–1780), after Pope Clement XIII granted her the right to become Apostolic ruler of Hungary, adopted policies designed to force the Roma to assimilate into Hungarian society. She outlawed use of the word Cigány and decreed that Gypsies in the future be called “new citizen,” “new peasant,” or “new Hungarian.” In 1780, the government placed 8,388 Roma children in schools where they became wards of the state, and another 9,463 in foster homes. Within a few years, all of them had run away from these institutions or the families. The Gypsies responded with some outbreaks of violence in certain areas, though in most instances they simply left Hungary for other parts of Europe.

This article examines an ideological and a narrative rift between two elitist formations and two forms of nationalism that a practice of memory-making embodies. In the subterranean polemic where Soviet generation intelligentsia and liberal intellectuals animate the past on Russian–Georgian relations in two distinct ways, past becomes a critical terrain where the struggle over Georgia’s geopolitical belonging and the resulting disputes on national identity take place. This analysis not only flashes out recent discursive rifts, linking them to the broader political processes, but traces the genealogies of the narrative practices that enable two idioms of nationalist discourse. It is both an analysis of post-socialist class formations and of the semantic fields within which their idioms are embedded.

The research focusing on return migration from the perspective of migrants’ relationship with the country of origin has emphasized the emotional and economic ties. Quite often, these ties have been examined separately and there is little indication of what counts more. This article addresses this gap in the literature and analyzes the extent to which the sense of belonging, media consumption, networks of friends, and regular visits in the country of origin could affect the intention to return. It controls for remittances, voting in the elections of their home country, and age. The empirical analysis uses an original dataset including individual level data. This was collected through an online survey in January 2018 on a sample of 1,839 first generation migrants from Romania.

After the fall of the socialist regimes in South and Eastern Europe socialist statues and monuments were either removed, dislocated, or resignified. Several performance practices have been employed to engage with these statues and monuments. Focusing on the role played by artistic memorialization in the processes of dealing with the communist past, this article uses the concepts of “performative monuments” (Widrich) and “memory events” (Etkind) to analyze several examples of what can be called “performative monuments events.” As many statues were removed, the statues witnessed performative practices in the process of their elimination. The monuments that were conserved were dislocated and exhibited as part of “sculpture park museums” and observed nostalgic, ironic practices of tourists that perform the memory of communism by interacting with the monuments. This article analyzes several examples in Albania, Bulgaria and Romania of socialist monuments that have remained in place or that have been dislocated and resignified by contemporary artists using performative practices of memory events that engage monuments. This exploratory research argues that artists, through their “performative monuments events,” try to bring the people back to replace the statues with “living statues” and to question the absurd megalomaniac monuments using metaphorical, material instruments.

A theory of nationalism should explain the evidence provided by the historical record, but also provide unexpected insight. The modernist theory of nationalism, espoused among others by Benedict Anderson and Eric Hobsbawm, provides a surprising chronology of nationalism’s modernity. The modernization theory of nationalism has attracted extensive criticism from Anthony Smith, who proposed instead a theory he called “ethnosymbolism.” This article considers Smith’s critique of Anderson and then his critique of Hobsbawm, finding that Smith’s objections to modernist theorists rest on mischaracterizations, fallacies, and contradictions. Smith’s approach caters to the primordialism rampant in public opinion, providing scholarly respectability to popular misconceptions. Scholars of nationalism should look instead to Rogers Brubaker for guidance.

The article analyzes the role of Ukrainian associations on construction of immigrant identity in Turkey at the intersection of diaspora politics and diaspora-lived experiences. Ukrainian immigrant associations – whose numbers and members rapidly increased after Russia’s annexation of Crimea – became critical players in immigrants’ ethno-national identity construction. This aligned with the Ukrainian government’s changing diaspora policy and shaped immigrants’ relationship with the homeland. The associations, therefore, facilitated diaspora activism from above and below. These associations are mainly engaged in activities related to the teaching of Ukrainian language, history, and culture so that immigrants can distinguish themselves from Russians and discover their own uniqueness. They also consider the migrant status of Ukrainians in Turkey and develop an awareness of ethno-national identity by negotiating transnational identities.

This study draws on ethnographic research conducted in a small village, Baltinava in Latvia, 2.5 kilometres from the border with Russia. The research examines how ethnic Russian women create a specific Latvian Russian identity by contrasting themselves from ethnic Latvians and Russians who live in Russia and identifying with both groups at the same time. To narrate their lives and to make them meaningful, real and/or perceived “attributes” are combined to draw boundaries between “us” and “them.” Thus, the same thing such as language can be used not only both to distinguish themselves from Russians in Russia or Latvians but also to form coherent identities and to emphasize similarities. This study suggests that ethnicities cannot be reduced to a list of set ethnic groups that are very often used in official government statistics. Ethnic identities have to be viewed as fluid and situational. Moreover, this study shows the dialectic nature of ethnicity. On the one hand, external political, historical and social processes create and recreate ethnic categories and definitions. Yet, on the other hand, the women in this study are active agents creating meaningful and symbolic ethnic boundaries.

Development in Estonia during the last decade has been very rapid and impressive. Changes that started at the end of 1980s and increased in intensity after Estonia reclaimed its independence in 1991 have completely transformed the face of the country. This rapid political and economic development has been accompanied by several worrying trends. The social cost of the reforms has been high: a decline in living standards, falling birth rates, increasing crime rates, and uneven regional development. Major declines in many other social indicators have occurred as well.

Thousands of books have been written on Yugoslavia's dissolution and the wars that followed in the 1990s. Most of them, however, deal with relations among the main ethno-nations of Yugoslavia, i.e., Serbs, Croats, Slovenes, Bosniaks (Muslims), Montenegrins, Macedonians and Albanians, and the effects on them of the dissolution and wars. Hungarians and Italians of Yugoslavia also suffered, and the wars affected their destiny; but these peoples have rarely been mentioned in the context of this history. It is the aim of this article to fill the gap.

The decay of Yugoslavia since 1990 has put an end to the experiment of a state of Southern Slavs. At the same time it has destroyed the myth of a peaceful and strong Western Europe. The continent that had displayed an impressive performance of cooperation and skillful diplomatic maneuvering during the last years of the Cold War proved to be incapable of coping with the problems in its southeastern backyard. In the beginning of the conflict, the European Community assumed responsibility for negotiating cease-fires and a peace settlement for the embattled Yugoslav states. But all efforts were fruitless. In 1995, it was primarily the interference of the United States that brought about the peace treaty of Dayton for Bosnia-Hercegovina.

Jindřich (Heinrich) Fügner played a significant role in the evolution of Czech national culture in the nineteenth century. As the first President, or starosta, of the Sokol (Falcon), the Czech gymnastic club that was modeled on the older German Turnverein movement, he worked together with the club's Gymnastic Director, Miroslav Tyrš, to build the foundations of the most successful Czech nationalist organization of the nineteenth century. A prominent and respected figure in the society of mid-century Prague, he was also somewhat of an anomaly, a German businessman who abandoned the status that his wealth and national origin conferred to cross-over to a Czech identity. Although such conversions evoke images of “national promiscuity” or “national transvestitism” in the modern world, where national identity is viewed as inevitable, they were not uncommon in nineteenth-century Prague, and Fügner's choice was unusual only because it was not motivated by a desire for social advancement or economic opportunity. Rather, in a world where political expression was limited, it appears as a statement of personal values and ideological conviction whose motives must be sought not in material concerns, rather in the more abstract regions of the soul.

Les événements dramatiques qui ont secoué l'Europe durant dix années à la suite du démembrement de la Yougoslavie, surtout le dernier épisode retentissant qui a affronté les Serbes et les Albanais pour le droit sur le Kosovo, ont impliqué aussi l'ensemble de la communauté internationale pour la défense d'un certain modèle de société et de relations entre groupes ethniques. Les opinions publiques en revanche, abasourdies par les bruits médiatiques et intellectualistes, n'ont toujours pas saisi la signification et les raisons du conflit, que tout le monde espère voir finir une fois pour toutes avec ce dernier et final épisode sanglant. En intégrant l'approche anthropologique aux considérations historiques et géopolitiques sur la région et la culture albanaise, cet article tentera de poser une question qui me paraît essentielle pour la compréhension des phénomènes actuels, à savoir si l'héritage historique et les identités culturelles peuvent raisonnablement, sinon justifier, au moins expliquer les conflits ethniques et le nationalisme, ou si au contraire ils servent tout simplement à déterminer et au mieux à rationaliser les relations interethniques entre groupes sociaux.

The trial of former Yugoslav President Slobodan Milošević before the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia (ICTY) in The Hague is a vehicle both for achieving justice and for pursuing historical truth. At this first-ever trial of a former head of state before an international tribunal, the same evidence serves two purposes: the quests for “truth” by those involved in the judicial process, on one side, and those engaged in academic historical interpretation, on the other. In each sphere, there are expectations to be satisfied. Those of the peoples of Serbia and the other former Yugoslav lands, international governmental and non-governmental actors, and observers are all different from each other; and they are all distinct from the viewpoint of future students of history. The two frameworks for truth are neither necessarily competitive nor complementary, and the tests of their validity may differ. But the raw material they use may be identical and the outcome of each may be parallel and consistent. And the two varieties of truth may reinforce one another in the quest to restore peace and security, to establish justice, and to compile a broadly accepted account of contentious, awful events.

This article analyzes electronic letters to the editor on the coverage of the riot in Kondopoga (2006) and the bombings in the Moscow subway (2010). Letters to electronic media are used for the first time as a source for popular opinion on nationalism and ethnic conflicts in Russia. The first argument of this study is methodological: a comparison between the polls and the letters suggests that letters to electronic media represent public opinion on nationalism even though Internet users still constitute a minority of Russian citizens. This study also claims that the letters under examination indicate a move from extreme nationalism to so called “banal nationalism,” the term coined by Michael Billig, during the period between 2006 and 2010. Finally, the article argues that the concept of the civic nation is not yet well understood or accepted by Russian citizens. Although this concept, expressed in Russian by the newly coined word rossiane, became somewhat more popular in 2010 than it had been in 2006, the ethnic understanding of Russian still prevails. The basis for the new identity rossiane, as it is presented in the letters, lacks common memories, myths and traditions that would resonate strongly in popular imagination.

While it is true that many nations and nationalities have come to be identified with a particular language group, linguistic homogeneity is by no means a sufficient or necessary marker of a nation or nationality. And yet, language is often used as a marker, not only to define a people or a nation, but, perhaps more importantly, is used by a people to set themselves apart from others. “Groups tend to define themselves not by reference to their own characteristics but by exclusion, that is, by comparison to ‘strangers’.” The use of language allows for a clear-cut division between “natives” and “aliens.”

The previous essays have presented a (frequently tragic) history of the Muslims of Southeastern Europe. The development of national identities among the Muslim populations has been an important chapter in this story. A recurring theme in the different case studies presented in this special issue is that the ways in which the Balkan Muslim population perceived itself did not always match the perception of the Christian population, especially the nationalists. Likewise, while the non-Muslim population often considered all Muslims to be an undifferentiated mass (usually referred to as “Turks”), the Muslims themselves often had highly nuanced and complex self-perception. While this self-identification included Islam as an important component, Islam was by no means the only, or even most important, aspect of identity.