There has been considerable speculation as to which of the former Soviet republics could become viable economic entities following the Putsch of August 19-21, 1991, and the resultant dissolution of the USSR. The consensus is that after Russia, Ukraine has the best chances of survival as a European state with a highly developed economy. Yet the picture remains a bleak one. Although Ukraine has advanced industry and has been a major source of grain crops (of winter wheat in particular), a declining standard of living had been forecast by its economic experts for the period 1991-1995, even before the August 24 declaration of independence. The following study will show Ukraine's major advantages and weaknesses, and what sort of prospects lie ahead for an independent Ukraine. As with any statements on the future of the former territories of the Soviet Union, they have to be qualified with the phrase “pending future political developments.” For the most part, the assumption is made that relations between Ukraine and its once and future economic partners will be amicable.

Between 1981 and 1991, Serbian intellectual and political life were energized by a movement to overcome the legacies of the Tito regime. Tito himself had died in 1980, but his political heirs, insecure and unimaginative, had proclaimed that even though Tito was gone, his image would continue to guide and bind the peoples of Yugoslavia: “After Tito—Tito!” In Belgrade, the anti-Titoist movement began as a struggle for free expression. As Borislav Mihajlović Mihiz, one of the leaders of the Committee for the Protection of Artistic Freedom (founded in 1982), said later, all political freedom flows from the right to free speech. Mihiz's commitment to the defense and nurturing of this right was consistent with values he had expressed throughout his career as a literary critic, playwright, and theater director. Yet the movement that he helped found in 1982 would be transformed after 1986 into something less obviously principled and much more visceral, as the issue of Kosovo's fate came to consume Serbia's intellectual elite. The movement for free speech segued into a movement to reclaim Kosovo for Serbia without missing a beat, thanks to the ability of Serbian intellectuals to frame the Kosovo problem as a product of the suppression of open dialogue in Yugoslavia. Kosovo replaced Gojko Djogo, Jovan Radulović, Dušan Jovanović, and other censored Serbian writers as the emotive fulcrum of the anti-Titoist movement in Serbia. The free speech movement was transformed into a movement of rage at the Tito regime's allegedly systematic injustices towards Serbs. Since the wars of Yugoslav succession began in 1991, commentators have conveniently forgotten that what ended up a violent and irrational movement in the late 1980s began in such a reasonable fashion. Borislav Mihajlović Mihiz was the face of the early free speech movement.

This paper highlights campaigns for national rights among two non-titular communities in the Soviet Union and places them in local historical contexts. Drawing on archival sources and oral history interviews, the author not only delves into the campaigns themselves, but also explores broader debates about the nature of Khrushchev's Thaw and Soviet citizenship, which was far from an empty concept in the Khrushchev era. Petitioners invoked discourses that indicate both an awareness of national rights and an expectation of the state's obligation to protect them. Oral history interviews with surviving petitioners and community members support the notion that petition language can serve as a reflection of how petitioners viewed their place in Soviet society and interpreted the Soviet citizen contract.

In 1950, in the aftermath of the Second World War and after flight and expulsion had come to an end, there were about four million Germans still living in East, East Central and Southeast Europe. Between 1950 and 1975, a total of about 800,000 Aussiedler (immigrants who are recognised by the German authorities as being of German descent) passed through the West German border transit camps, and 616,000 more arrived between 1976 and 1987. Then, with the opening of the Iron Curtain, mass immigration of Aussiedler began. Against the background of glasnost and perestroika in the USSR, their numbers increased rapidly from 1987 onwards. During the next nearly two decades, three million Aussiedler entered the Federal Republic of Germany. In all, more than four million migrants of officially recognised German descent migrated into Germany during the second half of the twentieth century.

In 1925, two newspapers, both published in Uzhhorod, advocated using the Latin alphabet in the Czechoslovak province of Ruthenia. Efforts by the Czech Agrarian party to consolidate the Republic played some role, but the plans mostly emerged from a longer tradition of Slavic thought which imagined literacy in more than one alphabet, conforming to more than one literary standardization. We trace the nineteenth-century history of Slavic linguistic ideologies from the original Panslavism of Jan Herkel, the “Slavic Reciprocity” of Jan Kollár and his successors, to the Kollárian Czechoslovakism used to legitimate the first Czechoslovak Republic. We survey Ruthenia's status within Czechoslovakia and then contrast two 1925 Latinization schemes: a proposal from Czech chauvinist František Svojše and a proposal from Rusyn journalist Viktor Barany. While Rusyns mostly remained with the Cyrillic alphabet, arguments made for and against Latinization show that nineteenth century Slavic ideals endured far into the twentieth century.

David Kanin's comment on my article “Yugoslavia in 1989 and after” indicates some fundamental misunderstandings of my argument in the article as well as in my book The Myth of Ethnic War.

The ultimate course of Lithuanian history was determined at the outbreak of the Second World War by the provisions of the secret protocols to the Nazi-Soviet Non-Aggression Pact of 1939. In the original agreement of August 23, Lithuania was placed within the German sphere of influence with both powers recognizing Lithuania's interest in the Vilnius area which since the 1920 coup by General Lucjan Żeligowski had been under Polish sovereignty — to Lithuania's constant chagrin. In this same treaty, Latvia and Estonia were allotted to the Soviet Union. On September 28, however, this agreement received significant alterations, and Lithuania was now placed within the Soviet sphere with only one strip of land in the Southwest of Lithuania to be left for Germany. In exchange for this, the province of Lublin and parts of the province of Warsaw were transferred to the German sphere.

The determination of the Estonian people and the support of Russian democratic forces made Estonia's statehood possible again. But the crisis in society has not yet been overcome. Estonia's further development can go on undisturbed only when there is stability in national relations, taking into consideration the interests and rights of all the groups of society, and people's safety and domestic tranquility is secured. Today, Estonia's prime goal is to become integrated once again into Europe. Experience has already shown that it is possible to join Europe's current movement towards unity only with a modern, civilized, democratic and stable society. This is how EDLP sees the future Estonia, and it is why EDLP is against all political steps that might endanger democracy, political and economic rights and freedoms, restrict a person's or society's free development, or endanger the stability and domestic peace. EDLP is categorically against all kind of extremism in the political sphere and is intolerant of discrimination aimed against political views. Without opposition there is no democracy. The majority may be right, but the minority has the right to its views, the right to express and protect those views freely—this is the firm conviction of the EDLP.

The article analyzes Chechen women's everyday experiences of war and violence and outlines their multiple effects on women's roles and identities. Particular attention is paid to how these effects are shaped by generational differences. The study is based on 35 oral history interviews with Chechen women in Austria, Germany, and Poland. The experience of two Russo–Chechen wars reinforced domesticated forms of femininity. It also exposed women to intensified nonmilitary forms of gendered violence. At the same time, some of the traditional roles were transformed, for example, when women became the main breadwinners for their families. Women's heightened realization of their importance in securing the well-being of their families and communities empowered them and created a sense of solidarity and responsibility reaching beyond their households. This has generated a level of insecurity among some sections of Chechen society and the Moscow-backed Chechen administration of Ramzan Kadyrov puts considerable effort in instructing women about their “proper place.” In exile, women's ability to continue fulfilling their gendered responsibilities in a new environment serves as an important coping mechanism. Different generations of women adopt distinct adaptation strategies that relate to their roles during the war as well as to the conditions of their socialization.