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In analyzing national and ethnic identities in the Balkans, one notices a “delay” in the development of the Muslim national identity. The Bosniaks and Albanians, for example, developed a national consciousness in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. In contrast to the Southeastern European Christians, the Muslim inhabitants followed the official religion of the dominant political class of the Ottoman Empire—Islam—a faith that (theoretically, at least) privileged religious belief over ethnicity or nationalism. These two concepts, alien to Ottoman intellectual tradition, became fully understood by the Ottoman elite only in the early twentieth century. Although the Muslims under Ottoman rule often perceived themselves as different from their co-religionist rulers in Istanbul, as shall be demonstrated in this paper, they nevertheless shared the religion of the rulers of the Empire and practised a religion that suppressed the development of national identity far more explicitly than did Christianity. Thus, it was the decline of the Ottoman Empire in the nineteenth century, and the consequent recognition that this state was ceasing to protect the interests and identity of the Muslim population in Southeastern Europe, which led to the development of ethnic and national identity among the Muslims.
This article focuses on the novels and short stories written about the ethnic cleansing of Dersim in the Turkish Republic in 1937–1938. Dersim 1937–1938 has become increasingly popular both as a political debate as well as a storyline in cultural productions over the last decade. The historical episode, once kept a secret, is almost an “industry” (“Memory: Concepts and Theory,” 2014) and an example of “memory boom” [Winter, Jay. (2002). Remembering War: The Great War Between Memory and History in the Twentieth Century. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press]. The aim of this article is to analyze the politics of memory and identity through literary works. It examines novels and short stories that focus on Dersim 1937–1938, or consider the ethnic cleansing in Dersim in a specific part of their storyline. By examining competing descriptions of Dersim memory and identity in these works, my purpose is to understand the mechanisms of literary competition, as well as Dersim's fragmented collective memory and identity.
After the military defeat of April 1941, the Axis powers divided Yugoslavia. The Independent State of Croatia (Nezavisna Država Hrvatska, NDH) received the lion's share of the defunct state. At least in theory — since the NDH could claim no sovereignity in several regions — the new state included Croatia, Slavonia, Dalmatia, parts of the Littoral, Bosnia, Herzegovina, Srem (Sirmium), and parts of Vojvodina. It sheltered most of the nationalities inhabiting the old Yugoslavia, while conferring the honor of the state-making nation on Croatians only. Minorities, albeit not recognized as nationalities, expanded the list of non-Croatian people living in the NDH. Without a regular census, which was never taken in the country, we do not possess exact data for the population; furthermore, the published statistics were twisted to support nationalistic ambitions.
The Slovene-speaking minority in Austria—when compared with many other linguistic minorities in Europe—is in an enviable position. Superficially, its minority rights are both constitutionally guaranteed and, for the most part, legally enforced; in the province of Carinthia/Kärnten/Koroška (the home of nearly all the minority; see Map 1) bilingual education is available in many communities at the primary level, and there is a thriving bilingual secondary school; Slovene is officially used in many offices and churches, and can be heard in many shops and on many street corners; there are two weekly newspapers. The picture below the surface is not quite as pleasant: there is anti-Slovene discrimination in several forms, and the pressure on minority members to Germanize themselves is strong; in particular, it must be emphasized that although the minority enjoys virtually full support from the federal government in Vienna, the provincial government in Carinthia has seldom been as favorably disposed. Still, most of the other minorities in Central and Eastern Europe can only dream of living in conditions like those of the Carinthian Slovenes.
Following the collapse of the Soviet Union, scholars developed an interest in Central Asia unmatched since the days of the “Great Game.” Scholarship initially focused on contemporary issues rather than historical analyses, since Central Asia was composed of obscure, newly independent, and strategically important states. With the opening of archives in the 1990s, however, historians began to pursue research on the identity and ideology of modern Central Asia, the legacy of the Soviet Union and Muslim modernism, and the challenges to nationalism and Islam. Drawing from postcolonial studies, these works have filled important voids and expanded our ability to analyze the multitude of factors that function in the conceptualization of the nation and the adoption of national ideas by the Central Asians themselves.
As we pick up a newspaper, listen to the radio, or watch the news, the information we get stands out in our minds and brings the sensitive soul a step closer to despair. Although on rare occasions we learn that someone has been kind, unselfish, and even heroic, much reporting vividly projects violence, war, hate, greed, avarice, etc. In this current age of spiritual bankruptcy, loss of community, instant gratification, individual entitlements, “I want-it-all-now,” “me generations,” the possibility of nuclear catastrophy, the rise of neo-nazism, and dozens of hate groups, racial and ethnic polarization, there is an urgent need for efforts to stop this road to social, cultural, spiritual, moral and physical suicide. One possible approach might be to focus on the decent people: those who loved, those who cared, those who gave so much selflessly, those who risked much, including their lives, to save their fellow human beings. With this in mind my purpose here is to describe briefly a few heroic acts in Europe during the Nazi occupation, to suggest some reasons that motivated the rescuers (altruists) who risked so much to help victims, and to draw a profile of the altruist. Altruism, for our purposes is defined as aid given to others who are in great need and which entails very high risk for which the altruist rescuer does not expect any external reward.