To save content items to your account,
please confirm that you agree to abide by our usage policies.
If this is the first time you use this feature, you will be asked to authorise Cambridge Core to connect with your account.
Find out more about saving content to .
To save content items to your Kindle, first ensure no-reply@cambridge.org
is added to your Approved Personal Document E-mail List under your Personal Document Settings
on the Manage Your Content and Devices page of your Amazon account. Then enter the ‘name’ part
of your Kindle email address below.
Find out more about saving to your Kindle.
Note you can select to save to either the @free.kindle.com or @kindle.com variations.
‘@free.kindle.com’ emails are free but can only be saved to your device when it is connected to wi-fi.
‘@kindle.com’ emails can be delivered even when you are not connected to wi-fi, but note that service fees apply.
In the spring of 1939, negotiations commenced between the British and the Soviet Governments with the proffered goal of an agreement on the containment of Germany; it was essential that the negotiating powers agree on the identity of the border states to be guaranteed. The guaranteed states would then form a potential cordon sanitaire against Hitler's future expansionary policies.
I would like to pursue some of the ideas raised by Mark von Hagen and the other speakers, synthesizing some of the many themes and topics that have been raised. What has been implicit in much of the discussion in the morning and in the afternoon is the most obvious development of the last year—that is that the Soviet Union actually collapsed. This is a phenomenal event, not simply because it happened without the intercession of a major world war, but because the place was so big and powerful. Further, it raises a critical question because, inasmuch as external violence was not involved in the collapse, inasmuch as it is logically unsound to implicate the Estonians, or the Armenians, or the Ukrainians, we are drawn inevitably to conclude that the internal dynamics of this particular kind of political system had something to do with the collapse.
The regional and local dimension entered the debate over economic decentralization and perestroika as different republics or provinces provided laboratories for experiments with new forms of economic management, and as public officials below the all-union level were ordered to take more initiative in critical areas such as consumer goods production. Now, however, the regional dimension in economic reform has moved to the top of the political agenda. In part, it moved there after last year's Party Conference where regional leaders discussed economic strains in perestroika, in part due to economic strains that have become more visible at the local level. As Gorbachev told the Supreme Soviet, this year marks a new stage in perestroika, one that is to harmonize inter-ethnic relations and redefine the relationship—especially the economic relationship—between center and periphery.
The Belgrade-based activist group Women in Black has been for twenty years now articulating a feminist anti-war stance in an inimical socio-political climate. The operation of this anti-patriarchal and anti-militarist organization, which has resisted numerous instances of repression, has not been until now systematically approached from a social movement perspective. This paper draws upon a range of empirical methods, comprising life-story interviews, documentary analysis and participant observation, to address the question as to how it was possible for this small circle of activists to remain on the Serbian/post-Yugoslav civic scene for the last two decades. My central argument is that a consistent collective identity, which informs the group's resource mobilization and strategic options, holds the key to the surprising survival of this activist organization. I apply recent theoretical advances on collective identity to the case of the Belgrade Women in Black with the view of promoting a potentially fruitful cross-fertilization between non-Western activism and the Western conceptual apparatus for studying civic engagement.
Although there is indisputable evidence of hostile perceptions, the gulf between ethnic groups has not yet caused any substantial violence between Turks and Bulgarians. Compared not only with former Yugoslavia but also with Romania, this must be upheld as a genuine success story in the endeavor to cope with ethnic tensions in post-Communist Eastern Europe. (Wolfgang Hoepken)
This article compares causes and mechanisms of the mass mobilizations which took place in Kyrgyzstan in 2005 and 2010. The upheavals of 2005, the so called “Tulip Revolution,” led to the ousting of President Akaev who was replaced by Kurmanbek Bakiev. In 2010, Bakiev himself had to flee the country after violent social upheavals. As this analysis shows, the causes for both series of events were similar: neopatrimonial rule and the elite's control of resources together with oppressive tactics stirred up discontent among wide parts of the population and instigated violent protest. The mechanisms of mass mobilization, however, differed considerably. While the revolution of 2005 was carried out as the concerted action of varied political forces and NGOs, which, supported by patronage networks and traditional institutions, offered material and solidary incentives for the crowds, the great mass of people who took part in the 2010 protests were spontaneously mobilized through purposive incentives when news of the killings spread through the media.
Two events in 2008 shaped the political map of the Caucasus: the West's decision on the independence of Kosovo and the Russo-Georgian War. First, on 17 February, Kosovo authorities unilaterally declared the independence of what was at the time a UN protectorate. This declaration enjoyed much support in the West, including near-immediate recognition by key states such as the US, Germany, France, the UK, and a dozen others. But it also faced strong opposition from Serbia and Russia and strong skepticism from prowestern countries such as Georgia. Russia opposed not only the Kosovo declaration itself but more importantly the western adoption of it. From the Russian perspective, by supporting Kosovo's accession to sovereignty western states were violating the rules set at the moment of collapse of the federal states of Yugoslavia and the Soviet Union: to invite the former union republics to join the international clubs of sovereign states, but not extend such invitation to any other sub-units. In other words, Azerbaijan, Croatia, Kazakhstan, and Russia became members of the United Nations, but sub-entities like Chechnya, Kosovo, or Tatarstan did not receive the same recognition.
A massive monument of Chinggis Khaan (Chinggis Khaan's name is spelt differently depending on the language in which it was written and on conventions of transliteration. Among the most common are Chinggis, Genghis, Genghiz, or Jengiz. For the purpose of the paper, the Mongolian transliteration is used.) imposingly gazes down from the government palace in Ulaanbaatar, the capital city of Mongolia. The monument was erected in 2006 in commemoration of the 800-year anniversary of the establishment of “the Great Mongolian State.” Occupying arguably the most prominent national space, the monument serves as an arresting emblem of the state. With its silent yet triumphant symbolization, the monument articulates the state's new ideology in the post-Soviet era. The monument is one of countless symbolic and material grand-scale state expressions appropriating Chinggis Khaan. In this article, I examine the state's appropriation of Chinggis Khaan as the marker of Mongolian post-socialist national identity. In doing so, I critically examine how the state appropriates history, remembering and forgetting certain parts, to cultivate a shared sense of belonging and pride. Unifying the public in shared glorification and celebration of Chinggis Khaan ultimately serves to instill devotion to the national political and ideological project.
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.