The following tables have been compiled on the basis of published census data. In many instances this has necessitated explanatory footnotes for the following reasons:

1. The oldest census results used in the tables are taken from the 1910 Austrian and Hungarian census based on “language” and “religion” categories. The later census results are usually based on declared “nationality.” A significant consequence of this difference is that in the Austrian and Hungarian census Jews can be found either among the German- or the Hungarian-speaking population, while in subsequent census results they are always designated a separate “nationality.” For this reason, additional information is provided in some of the footnotes regarding the Jews.

All of the sociological surveys of Estonians carried out after the Second World War have highlighted family life and children as the main values for Estonians. Family and children were also the values that survived the transition from the Soviet to the post-Soviet system, becoming even higher ranked in Estonians’ value priorities. Other rising values during the transitional period were health, close friends, self-education, and a pollution-free environment. Among those aspects suffering considerable decline were participation in social as well as in cultural activities (visiting cultural institutions, reading books, etc.), professional work, and taking care of one's own physical well-being. The rural lifestyle together with Lutheran religious values, which emphasize the family and a “good mother,” have been the main cultural orientations handed down through generations of Estonian families. Even the Soviet period with its forced industrialization, collectivization and political terror did not break this value-system but, quite the opposite, often meant that the family became a place that provided “refuge, and temporary escape” from these pressures, thereby preserving important elements of an earlier cultural orientation. Through its ideologically restricted social studies and deformed official statistics, which left people without reliable information about reality, the Soviet system managed to preserve the relatively strong impact of cultural traditions on people's behavior.

A religious minority of Bulgarian-speaking Muslims, the Pomaks now live dispersed in five Balkan countries: Bulgaria, Macedonia, Greece, Albania and Turkey. A living legacy of the complexities of Balkan history, the Pomaks represent a perfect case to study interstate political intricacies around the unsettled identity of small inter-communal groups. An examination of this community should enrich the knowledge about the nature of Balkan Islam that stands on the periphery of the Arab-Iranian-Turkic Islamic heartland, the three peoples who carried the major burden of Islamic history.

Western Ukraine comprises those areas of Ukraine annexed by the Soviet Union after September 1939. They are (1) Galicia, made up of the Soviet oblasts of Lviv, Stanislav (now Ivano-Frankivsk), Drohobych (now part of Lviv oblast) and Ternopil; (2) Volynia, made up of Rivne and Volyn oblasts; (3) Bukovyna (Chernivtsi oblast); and (4) Transcarpathia (Zakarpatska oblast). In the interwar period, the Galician and Volynian territories were governed by Poland, Chernivtsi was part of Romania and Transcarpathia was ruled by Czechoslovakia. Whereas the former areas were all annexed by the USSR after the invasion of Eastern Poland in 1939, Transcarpathia became part of the Soviet Union only in June 1945.

A vibrant countercultural and dissident movement developed in Romania between 1965 and 1975. Young Romanians combined elements of the global youth movement with local cultural and political practices. Thus, Romanian counterculture and dissent shared the era's hippie aesthetic and anti-authoritarianism, but was highly isolationist, vehemently antisocialist and heavily couched in the language of the nation and nationalism. Furthermore, during this early Ceauşescu period, the socialist regime attracted some level of nonconformist support through a program of reform, opposition to Soviet interference, and nationalist rhetoric. These conclusions demonstrate that the rubric of 1960s counterculture needs to be extended to include a variety of ideological and cultural positions beyond the New Left that scholars generally emphasize. Furthermore, scholarly avoidance of Ceauşescu's early period has obscured the existence of an alternative culture, and has led to an un-nuanced interpretation of Romania's postwar history.

This article investigates a legacy of transnational activism in Polish-West German relations during the 1950s and 1960s, connected to the borderlands/expellee background of several of the early activists who initiated the relations. At a time when the Polish and West German states maintained no official diplomatic relations with each other, the importance of non-state initiatives and dialogue breaking with the antagonistic nationalism of the two world wars grew disproportionately. These individuals’ expellee background, bilingualism, cross-border networks and loosened national identities contributed to their effectiveness in Polish–German relations. Taking exception to the popular conceptions of expellees as necessarily identical with the negative or anti-Polish opinions commonly associated with the expellee organizations, the article also focuses specifically on how certain expellees and former borderlands inhabitants attempted to renegotiate their postwar roles, political stances and even identities by associating themselves with Polish–German relations. They challenged the dualistic and polarizing nature of media discussions about German expellees in politics. In addition, the article and these individuals pose a challenge to international relations/conflict resolution research to look to cross-border communities as key elements in postwar/post-genocide dialogues.

Last year's conference ended with a general sense that national minority movements, still somewhat embryonic at the time, were seizing the initiative. This session opens with the consensus that these embryonic movements are far more mature, have aggressively taken center stage, and, in various degrees, have mounted a direct challenge to the center.

The significance of language and literature as formative to national identity is a major trope within studies of nationalism. The act of imagining and realizing a nation and a nation-state along these lines has been tackled from multiple angles including folklore, linguistics, historical studies of educational institutions and their curricula, with a prominent place reserved for textbook analysis. Even though historical studies for the most part have underscored the rapidity and novelty of these processes, a temporal claim that is part and parcel of the larger and fundamental assertion that nationalism is a modern phenomenon, these processes are negotiated over a period of decades. In Braudelian terms, the standardization of a national language would fall somewhere between conjoncture and événement.

This paper examines the legacy of the Duchy of Courland's overseas colony of Tobago as it relates to present-day Latvian national identity using the ethno-symbolist approach of Anthony D. Smith and comparative cases. As Latvia is a small nation that has been an independent nation-state for only two short periods, national legitimacy and pride pose particular problems for Latvians. To this end, Latvian historians have worked to reinterpret the Baltic German-dominated Duchy of Courland as a positive period of Latvian national history and have sought to emphasize ethnic Latvian involvement in the Duchy's colonial endeavors, especially on the island of Tobago. Their efforts have then filtered into the general Latvian consciousness through books, film, plays, and place names. Since Latvia's independence from the USSR, the former colony of Tobago has gained renewed importance for Latvians who are experiencing a widely perceived notion of postcolonialism. This paper concludes that the appropriated colony of Tobago will continue to rise in importance as a component of Latvian national identity.

While accounts of the end of the Ottoman and Hapsburg empires have often stressed the rise of Turkish and German nationalisms, narratives of the Romanov collapse have generally not portrayed Russian nationalism as a key factor. In fact, scholars have either stressed the weaknesses of Russian national identity in the populace or the generally pragmatic approach of the government, which, as Hans Rogger classically phrased it, “opposed all autonomous expressions of nationalism, including the Russian.” In essence, many have argued, the regime was too conservative to embrace Russian nationalism, and it most often “subordinated all forms of the concept of nationalism to the categories of dynasty and empire.”

At the Treaty of Bucharest in 1812, Russia annexed the eastern half of Moldavia, the territory between the Dnestr and Prut Rivers, which it called “Bessarabia.” One historian argues that this was an effort to circumvent the Tilsit agreement with Napoleon in which Russia had agreed to vacate both Romanian principalities. Since Tilsit “did not mention ‘Bessarabia’ the Russian troops could remain there.”

According to the 1993 Constitution, the Republic of Kazakstan was proclaimed as a democratic, secular, and unitary state. Human beings, their life, freedom, and inherent rights were granted the status of supreme value. A presidential republic as a form of government arose from the functions of the head of state and executive. The supreme legislative body, a one-chamber parliament (Supreme Soviet), preserved remnants of the old Soviet state system in name and function, denying the principle of the division of power. The Supreme Soviet was the only legislative and higher representative body that did not correspond to its legislative function, since that implied a hierarchical power structure. As the only legislative body, parliament could not have subordinate structures. According to the Constitution, the Supreme Soviet issued laws, controlled the observance of laws, and made formal interpretations of laws. This contradicted the power-division principle, according to which it should be the legislative body only. Judicial power in the republic in accordance with the 1993 Constitution belonged to the Constitutional Court, the Supreme Court, and the Supreme Court of Arbitration, which was to be elected by the Supreme Soviet. But this also contradicted the power-division principle.

To some extent I feel as Robert Lewis does, that the process leading from “national awakening” to “national liberation” is a worldwide tendency, and that the Soviet Union is part of a global Zeitgeist in this respect.

Byway of illustrating this fifteen-stage process, I would like to just report on a couple of examples I came across in reading about the republics as independent actors. One such issue has to do with the attempts of the different republics, and the nations within them, to form transnational coalitions across borders. In a way, these attempts get around the problem of establishing formal diplomatic relations with other countries: maybe you do not need de jure recognition if in fact you can do things with other people. For instance, consider the anti-nuclear congress, organized in Kazakhstan by something called the Nevada-Semipalatinsk Movement, led by the poet Olzhas Suleimenov. In early 1989, a Soviet nuclear test in Kazakhstan was followed by a public protest, and Suleimenov became the leader of the movement. He and his people quickly decided to call it not the “Semipalatinsk Movement” but the “Nevada-Semipalatinsk Movement.” And they immediately brought in American Indians, Maoris, and other people from around the world, who are all being subjected to nuclear testing. He also established personal liaison with Dr. Bernard Lawn of the International Physicians for the Prevention of Nuclear War in Cambridge, Massachusetts; last summer three hundred doctors and scientists in Semipalatinsk talked to people who were immediately affected by military nuclear testing.

The end of the Cold War drew increasing attention to ongoing and new ethnic conflicts—particularly because many of the high-profile new conflicts broke out amid the ruins of communism. Since 11 September 2001 there has been even more discussion about whether and how Islam contributes to international and civilizational conflict. However, there has been little work attempting to understand whether Islam plays any distinctive role in ethnic conflicts. Much work on ethnic conflict assumes that Islam is just one possible component of ethnic and national identities, and that it has no distinctive influence. Others examine whether Islam always has a similar impact on ethnic conflict—typically based upon identifying states or minority groups as having majority Muslim populations.

Basic Law: Israel as the Nation State of the Jewish People declares that Israel is the nation state of the Jewish people. It also includes several symbolic and operative provisions which are designed to strengthen the Jewish character of the state. The Basic Law purports to legally define and entrench the particular rather than universal values of Israel—the values that distinguish Israel from other nations rather than those that are shared by other nations. It anchors the Jewish identity of the state in its formal constitutional structure. My aim in this article is to present the history of the constitutional evolution of Israel and then to describe the conservative reactions to the constitutional liberalization of Israel. Then, I turn to examine the Basic Law, its provisions, and the arguments of advocates and opponents. Last, I evaluate its impact on the Israeli legal system. I shall argue that the Basic Law is part of a systematic attack on democratic liberties in Israel that may eventually transform Israel from a liberal democracy to an authoritarian democracy.