As Paul Goble pointed out, it is hard to give historical perspective to recent facts. My own comments started out as a footnote or paragraph for a piece I prepared for The Harriman Institute Forum on the current political situation and the Soviet historical profession, in which I mentioned that Soviet historians put the nationalities issue, among others, high on their agenda for opening up the past. Presumably, they are trying to make themselves into a force for reformist politics on the nationality question. In some important ways, the nationalities offer all sorts of important changes to the picture I presented for the central Russian dialogue on history.

Good governance has been used as a development tool by international organizations and the European Union (hereinafter: EU) which has included it in cooperation agreements and promotes it within its Enlargement Policy. This paper analyzes the good governance approach in the EU's relations with Macedonia and its effects on the country's democratic policy making. The analysis shows that the Europeanization of Macedonia has an impact on the democratic processes in the country with sub-optimal results as its technocratic approach in assessing the country's readiness for EU membership has proved to be detrimental for the deliberative democratic processes. The intensive pressure for effectiveness and efficiency results in finding short cuts in rule transfer through copying and pasting legislation from member states and limiting the democratic policy making to political deliberation rather than to wide policy consultations between state and non-state actors.

This article examines the fine art of the Soviet national republics and its discourse in the Soviet Union, which were considerably shaped under the influence of socialist realism and Soviet nationality policy. While examining the central categories of Soviet artistic discourse such as the “national form,” “national distinctness,” and “tradition,” as well as cultural and scientific institutions responsible for the image of art of non-Russian nationalities, the author reveals the existence of a number of colonial features and discursive and institutional practices that foster a cultural divide between Russian and non-Russian culture and contribute to the marginalization of art. Special attention is paid to the implications of this discursive shaping for the local artistic scene in Buryatia.

Any society sufficiently cohesive to evolve even the most rudimentary political structure will also, as a matter of course, develop a set of shared concepts about the nature of that society and a justification of its political structure. Scholars usually ascribe the word “Ideology” only to a set of values which is highly abstract, rational, and articulated in the form of theoretical treatises, so that in the modern period liberalism or Marxism is considered as an ideology, but this is not entirely warranted. Medieval states frequently expressed their social and political myths through the medium of ceremonial and symbol, hence the considerable attention to artistic evidence given by the great scholar of medieval political theology Ernst Kantorowicz or by his student Michael Cherniavsky, whose field was Medieval Rus',1 Even in medieval western Europe, but overwhelmingly in medieval Rus', much political thought, like our current symbolic respect for the “flag,” was expressed in extremely laconic terms. Phrases, concepts, and titles served in lieu largely of theoretical treatises, and ideologues demonstrated their creativity and originality in the manipulation of these phrases, concepts, and titles, not the elaboration of intellectual definitions of their significance. Such definitions were superfluous to contemporaries who all understood the shared vocabulary of political discourse, what we might call a political culture, but their absence compels the modern-day historian to rely upon his informed imagination to decode such social and political myths in order to establish their intended meanings. This is not to imply that modern political ideologies lack overarching myths. Indeed the very opposite is exactly the case; in Russian history the myth of the “people” (narod) in Populist thought and the myths of the proletariat or (later) the Party in Marxist/Bolshevik writings spring readily to mind. The lack of elaborate theoretical discussions of comparable myths in pre-Petrine history inevitably requires different methods of study from those one can apply to subsequent centuries.

This article uses Central Asian examples to challenge theories of ethnic nationalism that locate its origins in intellectual activism (Hroch), state modernization processes (Gellner), or the rise of mass media (Anderson). Modern Uyghur cultural politics and traditional Central Asian dynastic genealogies reveal related processes used in constructing modern nationalist symbols and pre-modern ideologies of descent. Modern territorial states with ideals of social unification and bureaucratic organization rely upon nationalist discourses to elaborate and rework cultural forms into evidence for the ethnic nation. The state links citizens to institutions through nationalist content used in political discourse, schooling, and public performances. Because such content is presented as authentic but used instrumentally, its contingency and fabrication have to be concealed from view: the culturally intimate spaces of bureaucratic production of culture and narratives are separated from public performances. The creation of genealogies used to legitimate pre-modern states are similar: compositional processes and goals are kept offstage, and little is disclosed in the public historical narratives and performances.

Minority language rights in Georgia, which are inseparable from economic, social and educational inequalities among the different ethnic groups, run along two axes: Georgian's relation to Russian and Georgian's relation with its own minority languages. Since the late 1980s, Moscow's diminishing power and the republic's internal fragmentation have shifted the emphasis from the first to the second. Newly independent Georgia, which is 70% Georgian, now confronts a problem familiar to many post-colonial states: what status should the multiplicity of languages in the republic have? Should Georgian be the only official language, and if so, in what contexts can non-Georgians use their native language? Such issues are part of larger questions about domination, entitlement and ethnic status, issues which have bedeviled the successive Georgian governments' attempts at state-building. In the last two years, language conflicts in Georgia have been overwhelmed by violent secessionist struggles, and the state language program which was perceived as vital to Georgia's future when it was adopted in August 1989, has become secondary today. But if the ethnically based wars are to end, language relations must be settled. As it stands, the language program is unlikely to help.

In the eighteenth century, prior to the partitioning of the Polish Commonwealth by its neighbors, the Polish szlachta or gentry constituted the Polish “nation.” Then, of course, the term did not have an ethnic connotation but rather a political one: the gentry alone had all the rights that came with full citizenship in the Polish state. The existence of such a privileged ruling class or estate was not uncommon in Europe. The szlachta, however, differed in two important respects from the gentry of most other European states. First of all, the Polish gentry included an unusually large portion of the total population: 9–10 per cent (25 per cent of the Polish-speaking population). Secondly, in theory all members of the szlachta had equal political rights whether they were magnates or completely landless. Consequently, when in the nineteenth century economic forces gradually transformed Polish society from a feudal social structure into a more modern one, individuals of gentry origin acted as a leaven bringing their consciousness of membership in the nation to the new classes of society that they joined. Some of the szlachta, influenced by the Enlightenment and the “Democratic Revolution” as well as by the obvious need for internal reform, sought to broaden the concept of the nation to include the other social classes even before Poland lost its independence. They, however, still conceived of the nation in terms of citizenship in the state. It is therefore ironic that this social broadening of the concept of the Polish nation actually occurred in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries when the Polish state did not exist.

The 1995 Dayton Peace Agreement in Bosnia and Herzegovina instituted ethnic quotas between Bosniaks, Serbs, and Croats: the three “constituent peoples.” This institutionalization of ethnicity, criticized by some contemporary authors, is often seen as a creation of the peace agreement. Interestingly, several scholars deem such proportional representation a legacy from socialist times. But the existing literature lacks a historical perspective on the question of ethnic quotas. In addressing this issue, this paper reminds one of the existence of ethnic quotas, called the “national key,” during socialist times. A deeper analysis of the “national key” in the Socialist Republic of Bosnia and Herzegovina and of the ethnic quotas in the last two decades shows, interestingly, more differences than continuity. The article concludes that few similarities and more differences can be observed between the two periods, especially regarding the legal aspects of the “national key,” in ideological justification and in the conceptions based on parity or proportional representation.