In 1903, former mayor Dr Jan Podlipný used these words to petition the Prague City Council to finance a nationalist festival dedicated to the memory of Jan Hus. Arguing for a celebration devoted to the fifteenth-century priest and church reformer who had become a nationalist icon in the nineteenth century, Podlipný emphasized the “memorable” quality of the planned event.2 Indeed, the purpose of the celebration was to create memory on several levels. The festival itself would gather Czechs in great numbers, creating a memory of a shared community, which would bolster the Czech nationalist spirit for future campaigns. The festival's purpose was to lay a cornerstone to a Jan Hus Memorial, a monument that would etch a permanent memory of Jan Hus into Prague's landscape. Last, by publicly and collectively commemorating Hus, Czech nationalists would create a shared memory of the nation's past.

The main objective of the ethnic policy of the government of Kyrgyzstan in the post-Soviet era was a consolidation of all people and ethnic groups on the territory of the Republic into the Kyrgyzstani nation. Such a goal is important for any nation that has just gained independence, but for the Kyrgyz Republic it was an especially important task for several reasons. First, the multiethnic composition of the country: in 1991 the Kyrgyzs, or the titular nation of the Republic, constituted roughly 52% of the population, there were around 22% Russians, and the Uzbeks represented 13% of the population. Second, interethnic relations in the Republic were especially tense at the beginning of the 1990s because of the interethnic conflicts in the southern regions of the Republic in 1989 and 1990.1 Third, the Kyrgyzs themselves lacked national cohesiveness and they often defined themselves as members of different tribes or tribal groups with distinct dialects, dress, and political affiliations.

The Roma entered the Balkans from India during the Middle Ages. They reached Persia sometime in the ninth century and by the eleventh century had moved into the Byzantine Empire. According to the eleventh-century Georgian Life of Saint George the Athonite, the Emperor Constantine Monomachus asked the Adsincani to get rid of wild animals preying on the animals in his royal hunting preserve. Adsincani is the Georgian form of the Greek word Atsínganoi or Atzínganoi, from which the non-English terms for Roma (cigán, cigány, tsiganes, zigeuner) are derived. Adsincani means “ner-do-well fortune tellers” or “ventriloquists and wizards who are inspired satanically and pretend to predict the unknown.” “Gypsy” comes from “Egyptian,” a term often used by early modern chroniclers in the Balkans to refer to the Roma. Because of the stereotypes and prejudice that surround the word “Gypsy,” the Roma prefer a name of their own choosing from their language, Romani. Today, it is preferable to refer to the Gypsies as Rom or “Roma,” a Romani word meaning “man” or “husband.” Byzantine references to “Egyptians” crop up during this period as Byzantine political and territorial fortunes gave way to the region's new power, the Ottomans. There were areas with large Roma populations in Cyprus and Greece which local rulers dubbed “Little Egypt” in the late fourteenth century.

Ten years ago, the destruction of totalitarian Soviet society led many to fear that in a country with little experience of democracy, another totalitarian regime would supersede the old one. But which regime, and in what form? The national conflicts that accompanied the disintegration of the Soviet Union suggested a feasible answer right away, namely, a national dictatorship of the fascist sort, composed of nationalistic ideology and a totalitarian social structure. No such dictatorship has occurred in contemporary Russia and none is anticipated in the near future. The “Weimar Russia” scenario, which the political science expert Alexander Ianov developed in such great detail, has not materialized.

The Koran and the Bible are God's grace Which is what all four holy Books embrace; To scorn and segregate this or that race Would be the darkest stains on one's face.
Aşik Veysel

Nationalist movements everywhere aim to create “territorially bounded political units (states) out of homogeneous cultural communities (nations).” Unfortunately, ethnic, linguistic, religious, political, and personal identities rarely coincide with geographical boundaries that enclose nation states. There are always groups within nation states whose identities are different from the majority. The leaders of nation states often see the presence of multiple ethnic communities within a single nation state as a sign of tension and instability, a threat to the integrity and indeed the very survival of a nation state. Consequently, they seek ways to culturally homogenize the nation so that the state and the nation come to coincide with one another.

The First World War represents a watershed in European women's history. The process of female integration into the industrial economy was both speeded up and given official endorsement as the massive mobilization of soldiers created great manpower shortages. The war seemed to accelerate and legitimate the process of female political integration as well, as most postwar European governments met the basic aims of the women's suffrage movement. Despite these advances, the First World War and the interwar years comprised an era which was fraught with conflicts over women's roles, rights, and responsibilities.

In Russia, the memory of the Second World War has been at once deeply personal and profoundly political. Largely erased from official memory until Stalin's death, the story of the war became, in the 1960s, a key means of legitimizing the Soviet state. The mythic “20 million”—more recent estimates are closer to 30 million war dead—became the heart of a lasting and state-sanctioned collective memory of shared suffering, patriotism, and redemption. As historian Nina Tumarkin has argued, the official “cult” of the war began to crumble in the mid-1980s, and what she calls “raw human memory,” personal stories untainted by the myth created from above, began to emerge. Tumarkin contends that the “winds of glasnost' and perestroika” effectively “ravaged” both the state-sanctioned “myth” and the “shared memory” of the Great Patriotic War. Personal tragedies began to replace the official tale of national triumph.

The Bosnian Muslims have only fairly recently become internationally identified as a national group. As a matter of fact, Bosnia and Herzegovina itself has had until lately a low recognition value to most people not living in southeastern Europe. Indeed, to many it has become a shock to discover that a fairly large group of Muslims resides in the middle of Europe, not to mention that they have become the object of ethnonationalistic violence at the end of the twentieth century. A further seeming incongruity in the international arena is the claim by many Bosnian Muslims that they should not be confused with Muslims of the Arab-speaking world, since Bosnian Muslims are indigenous Serbo-Croatian-speaking (now Bosnian-speaking) Slavic people, just like the Serbs or Croats who have committed the recent acts of violence against them in the name of ethnic purity. The Bosnian Muslim claim that the designation “Muslim” is more a national than a religious identification is confusing to the world at large. This article will trace the formation of the Bosnian Muslim national identification and set forth the issues faced by the Bosnian Muslims in their attempts to claim and defend it.

We contact the world
only through our boundaries.
Blaga Dimitrova

In a recent issue of the Bulgarian periodical Sega (Now) a reporter related an extraordinary tale of how various name-changing campaigns had marked the experience of a Bulgarian-speaking Muslim—hereafter “Pomak”—in the village of Bachkovo. The story began during the Balkan Wars in 1912–1913 when Hasan, the aforementioned Pomak from the Rhodope mountains of southern Bulgaria, was forced to change his name to Dragan as part of the wartime state campaign for Muslims with “Slavic origins” to “reclaim their Bulgarian names.” A change in politics at the beginning of World War I opened the door for Dragan to change his name back to Hasan; and so he did. In the late 1930s, however, he was again compelled to change his name back to Dragan, in line with the Rodina (Homeland) directed name-changing campaigns, described in depth below. After the Communist takeover in 1944 Dragan was able, again, to change his name back to Hasan as wartime “Fascist” policy was reversed. But with the movement towards “national integration” in the 1960s Hasan was forced, again, to change his name back to Dragan. After the fall of Communism in Bulgaria in November 1989 “Dragan” again was allowed to change his name back to Hasan; and so he did. In his one lifetime this “Bulgarian” of Islamic faith, subject to the whims of the fickle and contested Bulgarian national project, changed his name six times. Admittedly, the Pomak's fate in Balkan history seems to be primarily as pawn in Bulgarian and other Balkan national rivalries and domestic designs. Pomak history is, more often than not, the story of the center looking to the margins and imposing its own designs. Having said that, these designs—generally driven by the dual forces of modernity and nationalism—were always subject to a spectrum of Pomak responses and strategies.

The previous essays have presented a (frequently tragic) history of the Muslims of Southeastern Europe. The development of national identities among the Muslim populations has been an important chapter in this story. A recurring theme in the different case studies presented in this special issue is that the ways in which the Balkan Muslim population perceived itself did not always match the perception of the Christian population, especially the nationalists. Likewise, while the non-Muslim population often considered all Muslims to be an undifferentiated mass (usually referred to as “Turks”), the Muslims themselves often had highly nuanced and complex self-perception. While this self-identification included Islam as an important component, Islam was by no means the only, or even most important, aspect of identity.