Nation-building is a process which is often contested, not just among different ethnicities within a nation-state, but also among the titular ethnic majority. This article explores the contested nature of the nation-building process in post-Soviet Kazakhstan through examining cinematic works. Utilizing a post-modern perspective which views nations and national identity as invented, imagined and ambivalent it identifies four discursive strands within recent post-Soviet Kazakh cinema pertaining to nationhood and national identity (ethno-centric, civic, religious and socioeconomic). Rather than viewing government-sponsored efforts of identity formation in cinema as a top-down process in which the regime transmits its version of nationhood and identity, the discursive strands revealed in this article illustrate there are varying understandings of what constitutes the nation and national identity in Kazakh cinematic works. Furthermore, the strand which focuses on the socioeconomic tensions of modern nation-building in Kazakhstan uncovers how film is used as a site for dissent and social critique of Kazakhstan's modern political condition. What the article illuminates is how discourses related to nation-building can be both competing and complementary and that nation-building is a fluid and transgressive process in which among the titular majority there is no fixed unambiguous understanding of nationhood and national identity.

Much of the social science literature pertaining to the development of civil society in post-communist Eastern Europe focuses on the issue of religious pluralism, especially the relationship of religious minorities and new religious movements (NRMs) to the state and their established Orthodox churches. Their findings suggest that the equation of ethno-religious nationalism, cultural identity, and the state becomes a hindrance to religious pluralism and the development of civil society in these nation-states. As a result, social scientists depict these national churches, and in most cases rightly so, as being the caretakers and fomenters of ethno-religious nationalism in their particular states. A factor in this debate that is often overlooked, however, is the role of the local church in intra-ecclesial relations. Is the concept of the “local church,” which developed in the time of the Roman and Byzantine Empires, to be identified with the modern national church? If this is the case, these churches may be guilty of the sin of ethno-phyletism, which the Council of Constantinople condemned in 1872 in regards to the Bulgarian schism. Additionally, while the development of religious pluralism in post-communist society with the proliferation of Protestant Christian sects and NRMs challenges the religious hegemony of the national churches, even more problematic has been the issue of inter-territorial Orthodox churches in Eastern Europe. The existence of a plurality of national Orthodox churches in the same territory violates the ecclesiological principle of the “local church” as well as perpetuates the sin of ethno-phyletism. While some social scientists may laud the development of a multiplication of churches in the same territory, from an ecclesiastical standpoint such a multiplication denies the unity and identity of the Orthodox Church as the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church, which it confesses to be. What social scientists have failed to discuss is this important self-understanding of the Orthodox churches, especially as it pertains to inter-Orthodox ecclesial relations. Only with this self-understanding of the church blended with the issue of ethno-nationalism can the problems pertaining to the relations and development of ethno-national churches be properly understood.

Many Lenin monuments remain in cities around the former Soviet republics and a few national or regional authorities have decreed it against the law to deface or remove them. The Lenin monument in Bishkek, capital city of the Kyrgyz Republic, is an example of both policies. On two main counts, however, the fate of this particular bronze statue of Vladimir Ilyich Lenin has been unusual. Only in the Kyrgyz case was the country's central Lenin monument left untouched for over a decade after the collapse of communism, a decree for its preservation as a national treasure being put in force as late as 2000. And, when, in 2003, the government after all decided to remove the monument, it was then relocated only some 100 yards from its original location. These twin issues of timing and new spatial framing offer a window on the relationship between state ideology and politics in the Kyrgyz Republic. I propose to use an official ideology approach to understand the Kyrgyz ruling elite's ideological relationship to the Lenin monument after the collapse of communism.

This paper assesses state recognition, the practice historically employed to regulate membership in international society, since the United States–led recognition of Kosovo and the Russian-led recognition of South Ossetia and Abkhazia. Its main goal is to succinctly examine the question of whether these two controversial episodes have signaled change in the existing norms of recognition of new states. The paper argues that there is not enough evidence for the claims of some observers and governments that unilateral secession is, as such, becoming legitimate internationally. The leading recognizing powers took great care in all three cases to reject the applicability of their decision to other situations of unilateral secession, and they have since approached those other situations as if no acknowledgment of the three territories had taken place. Nevertheless, there can be little doubt that the deeply contested nature of these cases has introduced confusion and uncertainty into the practice and that this has had, and will have, important implications elsewhere in the world, in terms of both re-invigorated claims of statehood and the potential for unilateral recognition decisions by powerful outsiders. In fact, it is extremely unlikely that Russia's recognition of South Ossetia and Abkhazia in August 2008 would have ever occurred without the prior US-led recognition of Kosovo in February 2008.

Islam is by far the dominant religious faith in Tajikistan. At the end of the seventh century and the beginning of the eighth century Arab armies led by Qutayba Ibn Muslim conquered the region of Sogdiana, which included the northern part of present-day Tajikistan. The Arab invaders converted the local population to Islam and since then the Muslim faith has become an integral part of the Tajik culture. According to Tajikistan's State Committee on Religious Affairs, 97% of the Tajik population is currently Muslim and is served by 3224 mosques, 19 medresses (Muslim theological schools) and an Islamic university. An estimated 30–40% of the rural population and 5–10% of the urban population regularly follow Muslim practices or attend mosques.

A few years ago, the New York Times featured an article on the ancient city of Antioch and its modern-day inhabitants. Having lost its ancient grandeur a long time ago, Antioch (Antakya) is described as today a place that “even most Turks consider … [to be] remote and undistinguished.” The article features interviews with two members of the same family: the 110-year-old Ali Baklaci and his 20-year-old grandson Hasan Negruz. An old-timer who lived through the dissolution of the Ottoman Empire, subsequent French mandate and eventual incorporation into Turkey in 1939, Ali Baklaci is unequivocal regarding his identity. In a matter-of-fact manner, he declares, “We cannot forget our origins. We are Arab people.” The grandson, Hasan Negruz, however, has a different view. While Negruz is “one of many local youths who have taken advantage of Syria's offer of free education,” the article informs us, “the experience did not turn him into a pan-Arabist.” Instead, Negruz formulates his identity in a way that is remarkably different from his grandfather's: “I am an Arab who is also a citizen of Turkey, and that's fine. I like being Turkish because this country is more modern than the Arab countries.”

In August, a new language law in Ukraine allowed cities and regions to elevate the status of any minority language spoken by at least 10% of their population to “official” alongside Ukrainian. I argue that the law fails to protect genuine linguistic minorities and is likely to further undermine linguistic diversity in certain Ukrainian regions. More important, the law prolongs the vicious circle between Ukraine's lack of democracy and its politicians’ reliance on identity cleavages to gather votes. I argue that the continuing exploitation of identity divides is increasing the popularity of extreme right parties and widening the gap in policy preferences between Ukrainian and Russian speakers. However, the current ethno-regional cleavages do not stand for irreconcilable identity attachments and their impact can be mitigated. The EU could contribute to this outcome by providing expert opinions on minority and language rights; demonstrating a commitment to Ukraine's territorial integrity and independence to de-securitize the minority rights discourse; and increasing individual-level contacts between the EU and Ukraine to promote a broader European identity.

As Pussy Riot has changed the face of political protest in Russia, to the south, Ukraine has seen the emergence of Femen, famous for their topless protests against everything from sex tourism and trafficking to hot water shut-offs in Kyiv to sexism in the Ukrainian government to Putin's visits to Ukraine. Their concurrent appearance in the post-Soviet sphere encourages a discussion around the mobilization of sexuality as protest in the region. Both groups appropriate sexual language and imagery as well as physical sexuality in protest of their current regimes. This article engages the question of similarities between the two groups' efforts and considers what differences structure their political goals and philosophies. What potential does the global visibility of these groups have to influence an emerging women's movement, and, more generally, how can sexuality be harnessed as a unifying force in anti-government activism in post-socialist Russia and Ukraine?

In 2001, the Republic of Macedonia—the former Yugoslavia's southernmost republic—was on the brink of civil war as the ethnic Albanian “National Liberation Army” (UÇK) was fighting Macedonian security forces and establishing rebel control over parts of the country. The armed conflict took more than 200 lives and displaced, at one time or another, more than 100,000 people. Civil war was prevented by an agreement between the four major ethnic Macedonian and ethnic Albanian parties in the country, signed on August 11, 2001 in the town of Ohrid, thereafter usually referred to as the “Ohrid Agreement.” Far-reaching constitutional and legislative changes would re-construct the Republic of Macedonia as a multi-ethnic democracy. Since then, constitutional amendments and new laws have been passed, increasing the rights and power of minorities, especially the Albanian one. The new constitution combines the concept of civic citizenship with elements of de facto consociationalism, and satisfies the demand of the Albanian minority to help shape the destiny of their country using a collective voice.

Entity-voting in the Bosnian Parliamentary Assembly is a veto mechanism in Bosnia's consociational institutional setting and an important reason for the country's orientation towards the political status quo. An empirical analysis of the number and nature of adopted and rejected draft laws during the legislative period 2006–2010, embedded in George Tsebelis's veto player approach, leads to the conclusion that the veto players in the parliament – either delegates from Republika Srpska or delegates from the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina – have pushed the consociational system of checks and balances to its extremes. Entity-voting enables the veto players to “hijack” the parliament for their exclusionary ethnic interests and discourages cooperation and compromise between the veto players. Significant legislation, which in the present article is defined as legislation relevant for the European Partnership, faces severe obstacles to getting passed. In the light of these findings, the article discusses three policy implications: institutional redesign, a change of the actors, and an active role of the European Union for providing the actors with a realistically achievable goal which they equally share. This should reset the current calculus of self-interest and encourage cooperation between the veto players.

In December 1997, the Republic of Kazakhstan officially proclaimed that the city of Astana would be its new capital. The decision to transfer the seat of government from the city of Almaty in the south to the more centrally located Astana was connected to the process of nation building in a multi-ethnic society where the titular nation represents little more than half of the population. Efforts to transform the rather remote regional center, Akmola (later renamed Astana) into a modern capital city have been underway since the late 1990s. One important component of this transformation is the idea of building a “metabolic” and sustainable “Eurasian” city. As the symbolic center of the whole country, this new capital would function as a showpiece of Kazakh culture and identity. The city would also become a symbol of economic prosperity and the regime's geopolitical vision. While the government's intensions are expressed rather openly, it remains unclear to what extent these politically verbalized leitmotivs are actually being realized through contemporary architecture and structure. This article offers a critical assessment of what has been achieved to date and argues that the production of the new Kazakhstani capital has often failed to translate rhetoric into reality.

Independence forced Ukraine to face a set of statehood and nationhood challenges. State and institution building progressed quickly and effectively. In 1996 the country adopted a constitution and based its institution building on pre-existing ones. Having been a Soviet Republic, Ukraine's institutions were shaped well before 1991—if we exclude the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the diplomatic corps. The country also diligently quelled Crimean separatism by granting a high level of autonomy to the region, with Kiev retaining control of financial matters.

We all know why the Socialist Federated Republic of Yugoslavia (SFRY) disintegrated and why the War of Yugoslav Succession (1991–1995) broke out. It was all because of Milošević/Tudjman/“the Slovenes”/communists/organized crime/Western states/the Vatican–Comintern conspiracy, who planned it all by himself/themselves in order to advance his own personal/Serbian/Slovenian/American/Vatican interests—your choice. Or again—it all happened because of local bad traditions/economic problems/structural issues/system illegitimacy/legitimate grievances/illegitimate grievances/the long shadow of the past. Or again—it really started in 1389/1463/1878/1918/1941/1986/1987/1989/1990/1991—your pick. Of course, we all know that both the breakup and the war were completely avoidable/inevitable, don't we? And best of all, we all know that the real villain(s) in this drama can only be Milošević/Tudjman/“the Serbs”/“the Slovenes”/“the Croats”/“the Muslims”/Germany/Balkan peoples generally/the Great Powers, who must be held (exclusively/jointly) responsible for most of the killing, though some of us also know that all parties were equally guilty. Well, maybe we all know what caused the Yugoslav troubles, but it seems that we “know” different things.

This article considers Pussy Riot as a feminist project, placing their actions and the regime's reactions in the context of three post-9/11 developments in gender and sexuality politics in Russia. First, I assert that Pussy Riot's stunts are a logical reaction to the Kremlin's masculinity-based nation-rebuilding scheme, which was a cover for crude homophobic misogyny. Second, Pussy Riot is part of the informal feminism emerging in Russia, a response to nongovernmental organization (NGO) feminism and the regime's repression of NGO feminism, albeit likely to be outflanked by regime-supported thuggery. Third, the members of Pussy Riot were so harshly prosecuted because they - swearing, covered up and disloyal - violated the political cleaner role that the Kremlin has given women in the last few years. Feminist social scientists have long looked for politics outside of formal institutions and processes. The Pussy Riot affair makes clear how much gender is central to the informal politics that gender-blind observers of Russia have come to see as crucial to understanding Russia's regime.

To many in both the East and the West it seemed axiomatic that the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991 was due to “nationality reasons,” which were viewed as a natural process in the last empire's decline. Then, during the democratic reform of a totalitarian state, ethnic minority rights were first spoken of, and the growth of national self-awareness appeared to be an integral part of society's liberalization. Time has since shown that liberal changes in the economy and in the political and social spheres are not always accompanied by the establishment of social justice; indeed, it has frequently been minorities who are among the most unfortunate and marginalized groups in society. Defending the rights of minorities and combating ethnic and racial discrimination remains one of the most relevant issues in practically all post-socialist countries of the former Soviet Union and Eastern and Central Europe.

Between March and October of 1942, Slovakia deported the majority of its Jews to extermination camps in German-occupied Poland. Since then, critics and apologists of the nominally independent Nazi satellite state have argued bitterly over who was to blame. Did the Slovaks act voluntarily or under German pressure? If the latter, were they in any position to do otherwise? With equal vigor, the two sides have clashed over whether the Slovaks realized they were participating in genocide, whether they acted to limit or stop the deportations once the truth came out, and whether, compared with other German-occupied or German-allied countries, Slovakia succeeded in saving a relatively high percentage of its Jewry.

Following Kosovo's declaration of independence in February 2008, the European Union deployed a rule of law mission in Kosovo (EULEX). While EULEX and its supporters have argued that the mission has the potential to succeed, critics claim that the mission has failed to significantly improve Kosovo's rule of law institutions, to address the rule of law vacuum in the north of Kosovo, and to prosecute high-level organized crime and corruption. I argue that the critics are correct, and explain that the mission is fundamentally flawed due to its neutrality about Kosovo's independence, its rejection of conditionality and capacity building, and its difficulty investigating politicized crimes. Consequently, the mission cannot overcome the inherent challenges of building the rule of law in Kosovo, namely the desire of the Kosovo Albanian majority for independence and the connection between politics and criminality. The paper concludes that EULEX should not be renewed, since the mission's main functions could be better fulfilled by other international organizations, namely the NATO-led Kosovo Force and the European Union Office.

According to theories of nonviolent resistance, violence is counterproductive and undermines the ability of a movement to achieve mass support. At the same time, studies of ethnic insurgencies suggest that violence is the only available method of mobilization in political systems characterized by entrenched ethnic hierarchies. Engaging with these arguments, this article addresses a historical puzzle: What factors explain the timing and ability of the PKK's (Partiye Karkerên Kurdistan) rise as the hegemonic Kurdish nationalist organization in Turkey between the late 1970s and 1990? The article argues that studies that identify Kurdish nationalism as a reaction to repressive policies of the Turkish state without paying attention to prevailing social conditions and oppositional strategies fail to provide a satisfactory response. It argues that the rise of the PKK was primarily a function of its ability to gain support among the peasantry in deeply unequal rural areas through its strategic employment of violence. It also identifies four causal mechanisms of PKK recruitment based on rich archival and field research: credibility, revenge, social mobility, and gender emancipation.

Following the August War of 2008, Russia recognized South Ossetia and Abkhazia as independent states. Both territories remain dependent upon Moscow for their security and economic survival, and they remain dominated militarily, economically, and even politically by their northern patron. These relationships are structured, in part, by a series of bilateral agreements signed since September 2008, which have created a comprehensive legal architecture which, in turn, deeply affects the state- and nation-building processes in South Ossetia and Abkhazia. This article examines 78 agreements signed between Russia and these territories between 2008 and 2015 in order to better understand these processes and how they interact with and are influenced by their respective relationships with the Russian Federation. It groups these agreements into three categories: the 2008 “friendship” agreements which created the initial baseline for the bilateral relationship; the numerous, more narrowly defined documents which fleshed-out this relationship; and the “alliance” and “integration” agreements signed with Abkhazia and South Ossetia, respectively, through which Moscow sought to take its relations with these territories to a qualitatively new level. Of particular focus is the degree to which these territories exhibited signs of independent agency and formal autonomy, as well as the differences between them.

It is significant that, at a time in which violent nationalisms are re-entering the European political stage, one of the basic aims of Romani elites in the area of human rights is to be recognized as a nation, a fact marked symbolically by the attention being paid to national emblems. Of course, other issues (equal civil rights, minority rights, political representation or community development) are also among the objectives of Roma organizations (PER Report, 1992, p. 7). However, in the case of these latter issues, the question can be asked, to whom are these basic human rights to be granted? In other words, Romani elites seem to realize that the most important right for which they should strive is the right to have a commonly accepted and externally recognized self-definition as a group which should be granted consequent rights. In the present circumstances, especially in Eastern Europe, there is little doubt that the elected self-identification by the Romani people will be a national one, since this is perceived as stronger and more respectable than other identity-constructs such as ethnic minority.