Since May 1987 when the Russian nationalist group Pamyat sponsored a number of demonstrations in Moscow, it has been roundly condemned in both the Soviet and Western media for its self-declared anti-Zionism and alleged antisemitism. This rare unanimity of usually opposite views should warrant a pause for sound skepticism and thoughtful analysis. Strangely enough, while Western reaction to Pamyat has been long on condemnation, it remains short on analysis and on understanding of both Pamyat and its condemnation in the Soviet press.

This article is an attempt to explore the territoriality of languages in the context of ethno-national mobilizations. It maps the transnational interplay between linguistic spaces that overlap national frameworks. This makes it possible to scrutinize the horizontal and vertical differentiation processes that contribute to the definition of a distinctive literary field. In order to study these processes, we favor a strong empirical anchorage by referring to the notion of transnational historical space, defined as a configuration which covers both spatial and temporal dimensions, bringing territories into contact and linking various temporalities. Our case presents a large geographic space formed by Turkey, the Republic of Azerbaijan, and Iranian Azerbaijan. This unusual scale of analysis helps in understanding how ethnic entrepreneurs can capitalize symbolic resources in their strategies to make their ethnic idiom into a national language and to invest the political field with ethnonational claims.

V.P. (Chip) Gagnon, Jr. (2004, 2010) has provided a useful corrective to what he has called the “Myth of Ethnic War,” the notion that what was Yugoslavia was torn apart by primeval communal hatreds. He is not alone in this. Maria Todorova's variation on Edward Said's “Orientalism” take on the same question, and edited volumes put together by Dušan Bjelić and Obrad Savić and by Raymond Detrez and Pieter Plas have also attacked the problem posed when public intellectuals and politicians paint a crude caricature of Balkan history. The readers of this journal no doubt have their own favorites when it comes to the sport of bashing this particular myth.

One of the many controversies that survived the war in Bosnia-Herzegovina concerns the responsibility for several of the most deadly artillery attacks against civilians during the three-year siege of Sarajevo. Although indiscriminate artillery fire accounted for a small fraction of the total civilian deaths during the war, graphic video footage of the mass slaughter exercised a disproportionate effect on world public opinion and, therefore, on Western policymakers who felt constrained to “do something.” On at least three occasions, individual artillery explosions in the Bosnian capital prompted immediate international intervention that substantially determined the course and resolution of the conflict. The persistence of controversy is informed by a combination of factors, including the substantial consequences of the Western response, the inconclusiveness of some of the forensic data, and the conflicting statements of civilian survivors, journalists, spokesmen for the belligerents, and U.N. officials—all of whom have been accused of some degree of bias by one side or another. Nearly a decade later, testimony and forensic evidence presented at the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia (ICTY) has shed new light on these incidents, presenting a more comprehensive and authoritative historical baseline account of the “mortar massacres,” much as it has for a plethora of criminal acts committed by all sides during the wars of Yugoslav succession. The Tribunal recently released documentation detailing some of the mortar attacks that occurred in the city of Sarajevo, including forensic reports compiled by the U.N. Protection Force (UNPROFOR) which had not been previously made public. The bulk of this information is contained in the Tribunal Judgment and corresponding Dissenting Opinion of the former commander of the Sarajevo Romanija Corps (SRK), Major General Stanislav Galić. Although the reliability of judicial testimony and other evidence is invariably limited by the abilities and resources of both the prosecution and defense, the trial transcript has cleared away at least some of the fog of war, making it somewhat less difficult to apportion responsibility for the disputed attacks. This article integrates the Galić transcript with earlier, wartime U.N. documentation, press releases, and media reports, supplemented by interviews conducted by the authors with military experts familiar with the characteristics of the weaponry employed by the besiegers. It also endeavors to place the most notorious incidents in the broader context presented by the multiplicity of artillery attacks that took place in urban areas across Bosnia between 1992 and 1995.

In the period after Gorbachev's rise to power and later after the Soviet Union's collapse, the measurement and presentation of Russia's political culture and national identity were the province of practitioners of the mass survey. Over the past several years, however, a number of excellent qualitative studies involving extended field work and open-ended questions have added significant depth of understanding generally missing from these mass survey findings. Bo Petersson's National Self-Images and Regional Identities in Russia is an excellent example of this relatively new wave of qualitative studies.

The historical feud between Hungary and Romania over Transylvania has escalated in proportion and intensity in recent years. Territorial dispute is no longer central to the present debate. Rather, it is the treatment of approximately two million ethnic Hungarians residing in Transylvania that has generated considerable tension between the governments of Janos Kadar and Nicolae Ceausescu. Transylvania's ethnic Hungarians represent an obstacle to Ceausescu's policy of “national communism,” which promotes “Romanianism” to the detriment of the country's minority populations. In Hungary, reformists both within and outside the Kadar government have pressed the regime for a satisfactory solution to the perceived mistreatment of Hungarians living in neighboring socialist countries. By complicating relations between the two countries, the nationality question also effectively limits the degree to which Hungary and Romania can cooperate succesfully on regional endeavors. Finally, particularly in the case of Romania, exacerbation of the nationality question has attracted increased concern among “external” players, including the Soviet Union and the United States.

A direct consequence of World War I was the collapse of the Austro-Hungarian Monarchy and the establishment of new states in its place. This has had far-reaching consequences for both regional and world politics. The existing balance of power as well as social, economic and political problems within the Austro-Hungarian Monarchy, including the nationality conflicts, led to this result. In spite of the unavoidable collapse, the successors, the new states, were not the result of a natural evolution, but were the creations of the major powers—France, Great Britain, the United States and Italy—who through the creation of their new post-war order ignored the long-term interests of the region and the actual ethnic composition of the land.

Sovietology's gross neglect of the nationality issue is now embarrassingly evident. It was, indeed, a blunder of vast proportions, one that raised doubts about the basic assumptions that dominated the field and the sound judgement of many of its leaders. By analyzing the Soviet past and present, Sovietologists attempted to predict Soviet behavior in the future. For this purpose they produced a variety of models, approaches and scenarios. But if there was one scenario or prognosis which they regularly discounted, it was the one that actually occurred: the disintegration of the multinationalist USSR due to the forces of nationalism.

The formation of fifteen nation states on the territory of the former Soviet Union poses a series of challenges to specialists in Soviet nationalities. They are asked to pronounce on the degree of stability which the new states will enjoy and assess the dangers (mainly military) and the opportunities (mainly economic) that have arisen. The background of preconceptions about nationalism on which such judgements are based is usually characterized by an ambivalence, stemming from a feeling that the dissolution of the Soviet empire into nation states was somehow natural and inevitable, and also by the condescension of mature and powerful states which believe they have outgrown nationalism and the possibly dangerous antics of their younger brothers. Consequently, analysis of the post-Soviet scene produces tentative or confused results. This article attempts to apply a common framework of analysis across all the republics of the former Soviet Union to identify some of the broad but discrete trends which the future development of these states might take. The reader will quite reasonably question whether it makes sense to compare Estonia with Tajikistan or Russia with Moldavia. In reply, it could be argued that political scientists have been presented with an unprecedented opportunity to compare states with very different historical and cultural traditions but which, by virtue of their having been part of the Soviet Union, share remarkably similar political and social structures.

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.