Introduction

In the 1940–50s a totalitarian regime was established and consolidated in Estonia. Socialist society led to a new kind of social stratification and inequality. Stratification under totalitarian, socialist regimes differs from that in Western, capitalist countries. The utopian idea to create an egalitarian society turned into the creation of a hierarchically organized and heavily institutionalized society. Access to political power became the basis for social stratification. Reforms in the early 1990s have led to fundamental changes in the social stratification of Estonian society. The present social situation in Estonia (as in other former socialist countries of Eastern Europe) is characterized by the co-existence of elements of socialist and post-socialist societies, the expected marks of transition. Privatization brings about the emergence of new social strata. Therefore, the new social stratification in Estonia is now in the formation phase, and further changes are still forthcoming.

“We Serbs must militarily defeat our enemies and conquer the territories we need.”

Vojislav Maksimovic, Member

Bosnian Serb Parliament

“I don't see what's wrong with Greater Serbia. There's nothing wrong with a greater Germany, or with Great Britain.”

Bosnian Serb Leader

Radovan Karadžić

The break-up of Yugoslavia has come about as a result of national, economic and political conflicts which by the end of 1987 had taken on unprecedented dimensions. At that point, latent political conflicts between various republics came into the open. More specifically, the conflict between Serbs and Albanians in Kosovo had turned into a low-intensity war. Under Slobodan Miloševićs leadership in Serbia, the Serbo-Slovenian conflict over Kosovo deepened, forcing other republics and provinces to take sides. The Slovenian leadership opposed a military solution to the Serbo-Albanian conflict in Kosovo. By 1990 the Serbo-Slovenian conflict had spilled over into Croatia, completely polarizing the Yugoslav political elite into two distinct camps; one encompassed Slovenia and Croatia, the other Serbia and Montenegro, with Macedonia and Bosnia-Herzegovina playing the role of unsuccessful mediators.

This article looks at the press coverage of Ukrainianization, the Soviet terror, and the famine (Holodomor), particularly in the years 1932–33, focusing on the largest Ukrainian daily outside Soviet Ukraine, the Lviv Dilo. It compares this coverage to the reporting in the press of the Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists (OUN). It argues that these two years were a turning point in political attitudes. Galician Ukrainians turned away from the Communist Party of Ukraine and support for the OUN began to grow. Ironically, the OUN had not led protests against the famine, but benefited from the lack of a strong response from European governments and international bodies. The article draws on a reading of the Ukrainian press of the 1930s, and on recent research by Polish and Ukrainian scholars.

Problems of building a new democratic Russia based on federative principles and the region's long-refractory “national question,” forming a knotty tangle of complicated issues, have steadily remained in the political limelight. In a number of regions worldwide dramatic changes have occurred, related in one way or the other to the processes of national-territorial self-determination. As a result of this, the Eurasian political landscape has been marked by the emergence of some twenty newly independent states. Suffice it to say that the Soviet Union, a preponderant superpower feared by all, collapsed; and in Europe the Federative Republic of Yugoslavia ceased to exist, bringing on a long-term national conflict threatening not only regional but even global security. In East Central Europe binational Czechoslovakia split up into two independent nation states. Elsewhere, even in the absence of militarized national conflict, political processes have dramatically intensified. In Asia, for example, the multinational Chinese Republic with its Tibetan and Uighur problems, and ethnically heterogeneous India with its population speaking more than 400 languages and dialects have long attracted public attention as sources of potential instability in the region. The “Sikh issue” alone, for instance, continues to pose a threat to India. Even the North American continent, a peaceful region in terms of its political and ethnic stability, is confronted with similar problems. The integrity of Canada is still in question with the franco-lingual province of Quebec striving for independence.

This article explores the status of Turks in Bulgaria under the transition from Communism to post-Communism. After a summary of the demography of the Turkish population in Bulgaria, the paper focuses on developments in three specific areas: religious, political, and educational issues. For each issue a brief historical background is given but the emphasis is on developments since 1989. Since the article is an expanded version of a presentation on East European Linguistic Minorities, the issue of Turkish language and Turkish language education in Bulgaria is discussed in greater detail than religious and political issues. This in no way implies that the latter are any less important.

Based on statistical sources, this paper examines to what extent citizens of the most advanced provincial cities in fin-de-siècle Hungary were multilingual. I argue that multilingualism was a far less present phenomenon than scholarship suggests. The exact features of multilingualism were closely connected to the local social relations (religion, gender, etc.) and market of languages. The growing nationalism promoted by the Hungarian government and the expansion of Magyar public space had an ambiguous impact on multilingualism, depending on the local society.

This article examines how defendants on trial at the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY) appropriate the tribunal as a platform for national myth and group making. Specifically, the article analyzes Radovan Karadžić and Vojislav Šešelj's “performances” at The Hague in order to highlight the particular ways in which the defendants craft and mobilize the nationalist narrative. The article introduces the phenomenon of “the war criminal cult” and traces three stages of its production, including the defendants' collectivization of guilt, epitomization of The Hague as the ultimate enemy of the nation, and construction of “Serbs” as the biggest victims of international justice and of themselves as martyrs befallen with the task of defending the dignity of the nation. The “war criminal cult” is thus “made” in conversation with the “imperial West” in a collective narrative that contests the legitimacy and the intention of The Hague while disguising individual responsibility.

There are two common ways of reflecting upon the disintegration of the former Yugoslavia. The first one, journalistic, transmits and animates the images of horror, brutality, deprivation, and displacement. The second one, historicist—as opposed to historical—invests its energy into interpretation, construction and reconstruction of the past, attributing it with a self-explanatory power. “When and where did it all start? … So what does the past tell us?” (Sinclair-Loutit, 1994, p. 230). In this way, history is given the power to serve as an undisputed indicator and guide in the disarray of myths and facts. Both these positions share a common denominator; they both help us to assume a position of contemporary voyeurs—comfortable, distant observers who can do nothing but consume the provided imagery.

This article examines the role of the intergenerational memory of the Second World War (WWII) in identity formation and political mobilization. An existing explanation in the ethnic-conflict literature is that strategic political leaders play a crucial role in constructing and mobilizing ethnic identities. However, based on 114 open-ended interviews with individuals born in Serbia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, and Croatia, conducted in Serbia during 2008–2011, nearly a third of the respondents make spontaneous references to WWII in their statements, usually drawing parallels between the cycle of violence in the 1990s and that in the 1940s. The question this article asks, then, is why some respondents make references to WWII spontaneously while others do not. It is argued that intergenerational narratives of past cycles of violence also constitute a process of identity formation, in addition to, or apart from, other processes of identity formation. The respondents mention WWII violence in the context of the 1990s events because they “recognize” elements, such as symbols, discourse or patterns of violence, similar to those in the intergenerational narratives and interpret them as warning signs. Hence, individuals who had previously been exposed to intergenerational narratives may be subsequently more susceptible to political mobilization efforts.