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.

This article reviews recent developments in scholarship on gastronationalism, or more broadly, food and nationalism. It finds while the concept of gastronationalism per se has not been rigorously developed, scholarship of food and nationalism in general has been developing fast. A major development in the study of gastronationalism is the introduction of the everyday nationhood/banal nationalism perspective, which in turn diverts the focus away from the state’s intervention, a point emphasized by Michaela DeSoucey. The review of the field suggests that a renewed focus on the role of food in the interaction between state actors and international organizations would further refine the concept of gastronationalism. As for the study of food and nationalism, efforts to integrate findings from existing case studies to produce an overall understanding of society are needed.

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.

After the Soviet collapse, the newly independent states of Central Asia found themselves in the process of forming their own national “imagined communities.” This was done to legitimize their existing territorial integrity, their rights to their titular ethnicities, and the position of political elites. This process expressed itself through the creation of particular symbols, myths, and rituals which distinguished the nation but were also used to legitimize the nation's right to exist. The symbolic and ideological construction was influenced by the former Soviet era. For example, symbolically the country was still called Rodina (motherland), but most of the symbols of power were represented by male images, for example, Amir Timur in Uzbekistan or Ablay Khan in Kazakhstan. The tradition of representing power through a male connotation had a long history in Soviet Central Asia. Interestingly, however, some contemporary artists took an alternative view and used feminine images as strong, central symbols of their interpretation of national identity, contesting the official view of nation-building. This paper seeks to trace the development of the feminine and masculine dichotomy of representation by comparing official iconography with works of famous female artists such as Umida Akhmedova from Uzbekistan and Saule Suleimenova and Almagul Menlibayeva from Kazakhstan.

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.

Investigating Romanian radical right populism, I evidence the gendered nature of conceptual metaphors and provide insights on the specific masculinities that they underpin in such political discourses. With the 2004 presidential elections as a backdrop, the analysis focuses on how the radical right populist candidates articulated in their discourses the conceptual metaphor of the “strict father.” At first, the theoretical standpoints on conceptual metaphors are corroborated with the conceptualization of populist charismatic leadership. Subsequently, a gendered perspective is added to the populist conceptualizations. The leaders’ self-representation as messianic fathers of the national family is evidenced by investigating their discursive appeals to protect, discipline and punish the people. Furthermore, I elaborate how conceptual metaphors may be employed to consolidate a position of uncontested leadership and moral superiority of the radical right populist leaders.

This paper traces political events and modes of generating legitimacy in Turkmenistan since the Soviet collapse. The emphasis here is on state policies and social movements that relate to “nation building” for their contribution to political legitimacy. The extent of nation-building success is not an immediate subject of inquiry, for this paper is not about public perception and bottom-up response to state policies, but the reverse. It is certain that state-sponsored proclamations and nationalist ideas espoused by the intelligentsia do not always find resonance among the national population at large. However, attention given to social movements in this paper may compensate for this shortcoming in a small way. It must be stated that social movements in Turkmenistan, and Central Asia, as a whole, have been top heavy. They were principally initiated and steered by the urbanized intelligentsia. The extent of mass involvement in such movements is suspect and hard to gauge.

Capital cities play an integral role in the construction of national identity. This is particularly true when the capital is the country's only major urban center. Over the course of its history, Mongolia's capital of Ulaanbaatar has been periodically reshaped to reflect competing trajectories of national culture. This article examines the evolving symbolism of architecture, urban design, and public space in Ulaanbaatar as a means of exploring Mongolia's complex negotiation between its traditional culture (mobile pastoralism and Shamanism/Buddhism), its socialist legacy, and globalization. Amidst the rampant social change of the last two decades, rather ambiguous national narratives have emerged in Mongolia. Like the capital's cityscape, these narratives reflect aspects of both recent and distant pasts, as well as contemporary economic, political, and social realities. This article reveals how increasingly palpable global economic and cultural practices are fomenting material change in the current phase of Ulaanbaatar's evolution. A combination of secondary source research and observations drawn from several months of fieldwork provide the basis for a discussion of the city's role as a forum for cultural contestation and national reform.

Since independence, Central Asian republics have been facing the paradox of developing nation-state ideologies on the basis of a multinational population, inherited from their colonial and Soviet past. This ideology claims historical ownership over the territory, the so-called homeland (rodina in Russian or vatan in local languages). Central Asian governments do perceive the need to assert their sovereign rights on the land. In political terms, it becomes a quest to ensure that the territories claimed contain a majority of titular members of the nation and a minority of other ethnic groups. The census appears here to be the key instrument to measure people and legitimate the power of the titular nation.

The contested nature of de facto states and their acceptance of dual citizenship results in the overlap of multiple citizenship regimes, leading to individuals living in de facto states possessing multiple citizenship statuses. Using the Most Similar Systems Design, this article explores the factors that influence the (divergent) citizenship regimes of Abkhazia and Transnistria; the former allows dual citizenship only with Russia, while the latter places no restrictions. The primary reason for the adoption of dual citizenship is for pragmatic reasons, as the secondary citizenship can compensate for the lack of benefits (such as international travel, diplomatic protection) afforded by the de facto state’s citizenship. This said, having an ethnicized national identity, in contrast to a civic (state-centered) national identity, can produce (dual) citizenship laws that give preferential treatment to the titular group and its diaspora. Additionally, the influence exerted by the patron state (Russia) and the severity of the conflict with the parent state (Georgia/Moldova) influences dual citizenship in becoming conditional and thus more exclusive.

“Liberal democracy, in truth, is the political arrangement under which capital thrives best.” Slavoj Zizek

“It's the economy, stupid!” (Slogan on the wall of Bill Clinton's headquarters during his presidential campaign in 1992).

On 9 September 2001 presidential elections were held in Belarus for the first time since Alexandar Lukashenka became the president in 1994. To remain in power for seven years instead of the four for which he had been elected, he changed the constitution. Held in an undemocratic manner, with falsification of voting results, repression of political opponents, and blocking access to most media for opposition candidates, the 2001 elections became the acme of the confrontation between the authoritarian executive power and the opposition, labeled either democratic or nationalist, depending on one's perspective. The voting situation and how Westernized urban intelligentsia perceived it can best be illustrated by the following submission to the Slavic and East European Languages and Literatures electronic bulletin board. The message was sent by a list subscriber from Minsk (reproduced exactly as it appeared, the sender's name omitted):

Analyzing the newly emerged Trianon cult, this article argues that the current wave of memory politics became the engine of new forms of nationalism in Hungary constituted by extremist and moderate right-wing civic and political actors. Following social anthropologists Gingrich and Banks, the term neonationalism will be applied and linked with the concept “mythomoteur” of John Armstrong and Anthony D. Smith, emphasizing the role of preexisting ethno-symbolic resources or mythomoteurs in the resurgence of nationalism. Special attention will be given to elites who play a major role in constructing new discourses of the nation and seek to control collective memories, taking their diverse intentions, agendas, and strategies specifically into consideration. This “view from above” will be complemented with a “view from below” by investigating the meanings that audiences give to and the uses they make of these memories. Thus, the analysis has three dimensions: it starts with the analysis of symbols, topics, and arguments applied by public Trianon discourses; it continues with the analysis of everyday perceptions, memory, and identity concerns; and finally ends with an anthropological interpretation of memory politics regarding a new form of nationalism arising in the context of propelling and mainstreaming populist right-wing politics. The main argument of this article is that although the Hungarian Trianon cult, identified as national mythomoteur, invokes a historical trauma, it rather speaks to current feelings of loss and disenfranchisement, offering symbolic compensation through the transference of historical glory, pride, and self-esteem within a mythological framework. This article is part of a larger effort to understand the cultural logic and social support of new forms of nationalism in Hungary propelled by the populist far right.

The paper will focus on the structures of collective identities of the Russian-speaking population of Estonia. Particular cultural and political orientations held by individuals and frequencies of self-categorization as Russian, ex-Soviet, citizens of Estonia, etc. have been discussed extensively. Much less attention has been paid to the structures of self-identification, which draw out people's thinking patterns. The paper is based on the methodological premise that analysis and interpretation of the disposition of different types of self-categorization is worth the effort, as it helps to elucidate the general meta-structures behind people's interpretation of different identification narratives and provides an opportunity to make prognoses about future scenarios.

Fifteen years after the 1999 NATO bombings, a number of emblematic buildings in Belgrade still lie in ruins and are at the center of debates surrounding their reconstruction. This article examines the collective memory and narratives of the NATO bombings through a spatial lens, looking at how architectural discourses of reconstruction relate to multiple understandings and narratives of the bombings themselves. It focuses on how architects in Belgrade discuss and envision the reconstruction of buildings such as the Generalštab in relationship to the collective memories of political violence and war. The article explores the continuum between calls for full restoration and memorialization, by discussing how architects relate to the bombing of 1999 on personal and professional levels, and how narratives of the bombing influence architectural visions for the reconstruction itself. All in all, the article argues that architectural reconstruction, collective memory, and national identity shape each other. On the one hand, reconstruction responds to collective memory as architects make sense of the collective memory of war; on the other hand, reconstructed urban space reshapes memory by creating a new cadre matériel for remembrance.

This article examines the current heroization of Ukrainian nationalist leader, Stepan Bandera, as manifested in monuments and commemorative practices. It offers a topographic survey that reveals the extent and variety of modes of Bandera heroization. It examines the esthetic and historical controversies that surround Bandera memorialization. It enquires into the personal motivations and political strategies that underlie the effort to project the chosen image of Bandera upon the public space in highly visible terms. It suggests that the campaign in favor of memorializing Bandera can best be understood in performative terms. It is in depicting Bandera as a hero of Ukraine that Bandera becomes a hero of Ukraine.

This article situates the development of the kin-state politics literature within the context of post-Cold War scholarship on ethnicity, nationalism, and conflict. It outlines how an increasingly mature literature emerged around the domestic political and foreign policy drivers of kin-state politics as scholars drew from a number of perspectives, from the literature on irredentism to that on diaspora politics and transborder nationalism. The article then evaluates scholarship on the drivers and impacts of kin-state politics, with a focus on the consequences of kin-state politics for the cultural and political landscape of external kin communities and the impact on regional security and stability. While a rich and nuanced literature has helped to contextualize the tensions and complexities of the former, I argue that the latter needs to be developed further. Careful work needs to be done to more precisely establish the conditions under which kin-state politics constitute a security threat. Future scholarship should bring together a more ground level perspective of how kin-state policies are perceived, utilized, and/or instrumentalized by their intended subjects with a critical understanding of how the “game” of kin-state politics is played within the home state and the kin-state.

In the summer of 2009, statues stood leaning in a yard, beyond Independence Square in Astana. The situation was incongruous and constituted an enigma: Why were these monuments left alone in shambles? This paper argues that nationalistic city making is more of a resource for people involved in patron/client relationships and a contingent outcome, rather than a planned strategy. This case study, drawing on evidence gathered through qualitative methods with artists and urban-planners, hence reveals a paradox: in Kazakhstan, there surely is a state incentive to produce nationalistic symbols, but in the absence of a mid-term strategy, city-planners and the people they work with improvise in order to answer local authorities' demands, and use this opportunity to advance their own interests. Hence, the political production of space is considered a fuzzy process, contingent on the agency of multiple subjects, and treated as an outcome of Foucauldian “micro-physics of power.” But even though it is erratic, it still creates the built environment which will be reacted upon by citizens. Finally, this sociopolitical perspective on nationalistic urbanism demonstrates that Astana's scenery is a fuzzy “landscape of power” instituting an erratic Kazakhstani regime, based on the political economy of symbolic goods.

In this article, we explore the role of the early 20th-century Armenian genocide and the unresolved Karabakh conflict of the 1990s in identity shaping among the new generation of Armenian diaspora—those who grew up after the establishment of the independent Armenian state in 1991. We draw on original interviews with diasporic youth in France, the United Kingdom, and Russia—diasporas that were largely built in the aftermath of the genocide and the Karabakh war. Diaspora youth relate to these events through transmitted collective memories, but also reconnect with the distant homeland’s past and present in new ways as they engage with new possibilities of transnational digital communication and mobility. Their experiences of identity shed light on how the new generation of diasporic Armenians defines itself in relation to the past; how this past is (re)made present in their interpretations of the Karabakh conflict and in everyday behaviors; and how diasporic youth experience the dilemmas of “moving on” from traumatic narratives that for a long time have been seen as foundational to their identity.