CESR
Central Eurasian Studies Review
Publication of the Central Eurasian Studies Society
ISSN 1538-5043 (Print)
ISSN 1543-7817 (Electronic)
Contents of this
issue
Volume 3, Number 1 Winter 2004
Perspectives
Research Reports and Briefs
Reviews and Abstracts
Conferences and Lecture Series
Educational Resources and Developments
Editors - CESR Vol. 3 No. 1
Chief Editors: Marianne Kamp (Laramie, Wyo., USA),
Virginia Martin (Huntsville, Ala., USA)
Section Editors:
Perspectives: Robert M. Cutler (Ottawa/Montreal,
Canada), Edward Walker (Berkeley, Calif., USA)
Research Reports and Briefs: Ed Schatz (Carbondale,
Ill., USA), Jamilya Ukudeeva (Aptos, Calif., USA)
Reviews and Abstracts: Shoshana Keller (Clinton,
N.Y., USA), Resul Yalcin (London, England)
Conferences and Lecture Series: Peter Finke (Halle/Salle,
Germany), Payam Foroughi (Salt Lake City, Utah, USA)
Educational Resources and Developments: Philippe Forét
(Zurich, Switzerland), Daniel C. Waugh (Seattle, Wash.,
USA)
Copy Editor: Michael Davis (Kirksville, Mo., USA)
English Language Style Editor: Helen Faller (Ann
Arbor, Mich., USA)
Production Editor: Sada Aksartova (Washington, D.C.,
USA)
Web Editor: Paola Raffetta (Buenos Aires, Argentina)
Indexer: Charles Kolb (Washington, D.C., USA)
Editorial and Production Consultant: John Schoeberlein
(Cambridge, Mass., USA)
[Contents]
Perspectives
The Complexity of Central Eurasia
Robert M. Cutler, Research Fellow, Institute of European
and Russian Studies, Carleton University, Ottawa, Ont., Canada,
rmc alum.mit.edu,
http://www.robertcutler.org
Up until now, "Perspectives" has presented in each
issue of CESR a single essay regarding Central Eurasia
within the global sociology of knowledge, offering a particular
view conditioned by the evolution and construction of disciplinary
and transdisciplinary knowledge. In the current issue of CESR,
"Perspectives" presents instead a series of shorter
essays. Several of them were submitted as commentaries on longer
published essays, and readers are encouraged to continue this
practice. Such comments will receive consideration for publication
in "Perspectives," and it is hoped that this practice
will give rise to further exchange and debate.
All of the "perspectives" offered in the present issues
of CESR address questions about how to situate Central
Eurasia in time and space, and how that situation changes through
time and over space. This essay introduces the four that follow,
and establishes a context that seeks to integrate them conceptually,
by outlining a perhaps unorthodox but systematic international
relations approach to current study of the region.
In their essays below, Doulatbek Khidirbekughli and Alexander
Lehrman both emphasize historical and cultural continuities that
justify considering the region as a unity. Khidirbekughli's "Mysterious
Eurasia," offering remarks on John Schoeberlein's (2002)[*]
presidential essay in CESR, emphasizes the longue durée
while consistently underlining the region's historical nature
as an intermediary among cultures and peoples, and indeed empires.
He tends to regard Central Asia as the most "central"
part of Central Eurasia, geographically limited to the five contemporary
Central Asia states with those contiguous cross-border regions
sharing a culture or a language. Alexander Lehrman's "The
Distinctive Factors of Central Eurasia," commenting on Gregory
Gleason's (2003) presidential essay in CESR, argues that
the living legacy of the Russian language is today a substratum
providing a broader Central Eurasia with unity in spite of contemporary
changes, which have not effaced the recent Slavophone inheritance
or its significance.
The essays by Amineh and by Pomfret focus on the region's future
rather than the past. Such a vantage point yields a different
conceptual perspective; and that perspective differs today from
what it would have been a decade and a half ago. Since the end
of the Cold War, global international relations are more clearly
a "complex system," a self-organizing network rather
than a top-down hierarchy (Bar-Yam 1997). Superpowers (or at least
one), great powers, and regional powers still exist, but middle-level
phenomena have become important drivers in a world that now self-organizes
from bottom up.
Before the USSR disintegrated in the early 1990s, the late Turkish
President Turgut Özal's strategic vision provided a bridge
between the concepts of "Southwest Asia" and Central
Asia. The concept of "Southwest Asia" emerged as a focus
in US strategic thought after the 1979 Iranian revolution. To
Southwest Asia there is being added the so-called "Northern
Tier," not just in strategic thinking but as a result of
events on the ground. This process creates a new and larger geopolitical
entity that extends from Turkey in a crescent east-northeast through
Kazakhstan (Barylski 1994; Bininachvili 1993). The Caucasus, which
historically has been part of an extended Middle East, is regaining
its role as a crossroads among continents. Central Asia is recognizing
its cultural links with Southwest Asia while it puzzles out its
relations with Russia.
One way to see Central Eurasia is to employ seven scales of analysis,
even if one focuses on only a few of them at a time. The first
and finest scale of analysis is the national scale - i.e., state
level - of analysis where each of the Central Asian countries
may be taken separately. (This scale of analysis subsumes a yet
finer scale, that which analyzes subnational differentiations
such as the contrast between northern and southern Kazakhstan.)
Second, there is the regional scale of Central Asia itself, which
takes the five former Soviet republics as a whole and also considers
their transnational cultural and demographic interrelationships.
Third, the "macro-region" of Greater Central Asia includes
"political" Central Asia (i.e., the five former Soviet
republics) plus their cultural and economic connections with such
neighboring regions as western China, southern Russia (including
southern Siberia), northern Afghanistan, and northeastern Iran.
Fourth is the "meta-regional" scale of Central Eurasia,
a still broader construct. Although "Central Eurasia"
is sometimes used as a shorthand designation of the former Soviet
territory, it is perhaps more apposite to adopt the definition
from the CESS website, that it "include[s] Turkic, Mongolian,
Iranian, Caucasian, Tibetan and other peoples[, and] extends from
the Black Sea region, the Crimea, and the Caucasus in the west,
through the Middle Volga region, Central Asia and Afghanistan,
and on to Siberia, Mongolia and Tibet in the east." The collapse
of the Soviet Union did not assure the consolidation this crescent-shaped
"meta-region" containing the Caucasus and Central Asia
as an acknowledged new region in geopolitics or energy geo-economics.
Expert opinion is that this required three things: international
financial and industrial interest in the impressive natural resources
in the region, the political will of the only remaining superpower,
and the free and rapid exchange of information possible only through
the Internet and other electronic telecommunications. These three
conditions have all taken hold in a decade.
In a broader historical and cultural sense, Central Eurasia (like
Greater Central Asia) includes portions of Russia and China. However,
the latter are fully integrated at a fifth, "mega-regional"
scale of analysis, including not only Russia and China but also
the whole of South and Southwest Asia, from India and Pakistan
through Iraq and Turkey, to which we may refer simply as Eurasia.
A sixth scale of analysis is Greater Eurasia, from Spain to Sakhalin
and Spitzbergen to Singapore, including the European Union and
its family of institutions (Cutler 2003). Finally, the seventh
scale of analysis is the global scale, which adds the United States,
American transnational corporations with a global reach, and worldwide
international organizations having especially an economic, industrial
or financial vocation.
It is not necessary to treat all these scales of analysis together,
although it is useful to employ the first and the seventh together
so as to anchor any discussion. These "scales" of analysis
differ, both in conception and in application, from what are traditionally
considered to be "levels" of analysis in international
relations. This difference means that they are not stacked upon
each other in a mechanistic manner, even though it is convenient
to discuss them sequentially for expository purposes. The levels
are not strictly hierarchical, meaning that they also are not
"nested." Rather, as in any "complex system"
- i.e., a system where the behavior of the whole is not predictable
from analysis of its components and where properties of the system
emerge from one scale into another - these scales of analysis
overlap; and what one sees depends upon where one stands.
The foregoing sketch illustrates one way to make connections
among different levels of analysis in a manner more nuanced than
traditional geopolitical analysis. In "Towards Rethinking
Geopolitics," Mehdi Parvizi Amineh introduces a new approach
to the topic, called "critical geopolitics," which challenges
the "orthodox geopolitics" usually associated with realist
and neorealist theories of international relations. In particular,
he highlights the role of non-state actors, such as international
financial institutions (IFIs), in both the conceptual and the
material construction of the region. Richard Pomfret's essay on
"The Specific and the General in Economic Policy Analysis
and Advice" concludes with some more extended reflections
on IFIs in particular. His remarks may be read as a commentary
on Morgan Y. Liu's (2003) "Detours from Utopia on the Silk
Road: Ethical Dilemmas of Neo-liberal Triumphalism" previously
published in this space, addressing specific results of liberal
economic intervention in Central Eurasia.
Readers are encouraged to submit to "Perspectives"
shorter essays and commentaries such as those published here,
as well as longer sociology-of-knowledge reviews.
[*] References can be found
at the end of the Perspectives section - Eds.
[Contents]
Mysterious Eurasia: Thoughts in Response to Dr. Schoeberlein
Doulatbek Khidirbekughli, Professor of Political Science
and International Relations, Kazakh University of International
Relations and World Languages, Almaty, Kazakhstan, doulatbek3 hotmail.com,
doulat freenet.kz,
http://www.freenet.kz/~alumni/doulatbek
Ten thousand years ago, ancestors of the Turkic tribes inhabited
Central Eurasia. These Turkic Eurasian tribes migrated in all
directions. During this great migration of peoples, they influenced
the cultures of the European peoples, including Western Christianity,
as well as the cultures of the Mongol and Chinese civilizations
in the East, where the Paleo-Asian and Proto-Mongolian peoples
emerged from the mixture of alien (proto-Turkish) and autochthonous
(local Mongol). Some of these subsequently crossed the Bering
Strait, forming the stock from which some Native American peoples
descended. In Western Eurasia contact between Turkic and Germanic
peoples came with the fall of the Roman Empire as the Huns settled
in Europe.
Dr. Schoeberlein (2002) was correct to state that "in North
America, the entire northern tier of Central Eurasia has been
claimed by a society whose name and orientation feature 'Slavic
Studies' for the simple reason that this territory has been under
Russian domination. Scholars who are interested precisely in that
Russian domination may find a home in Slavic studies, but others
in both Slavic studies and Central Eurasian studies find the connections
too tenuous to be meaningful." Only specialists in North
America, Europe, and Islamic countries really have knowledge of
this region, which in the popular mind is still identified as
part of Russia.
Scholars from Islamic countries consider Central Eurasia as a
part of Muslim history and culture. Islam dominated in Central
Eurasia from the ninth through the 19th centuries. Central Eurasia
thereafter fell under Russian domination and European culture.
Central Eurasian languages are based either on Turkic or on Persian
roots, with more recent Russian overlays, adaptations, and vocabulary
transfers. Divided between Islamic and post-Soviet studies, the
study of Central Eurasia should be considered as a separate and
independent field.
"Eurasianism" was a traditional Russian construction
that included the precepts of Russian colonial policy and great
power nationalism. Tsarist and Bolshevik Russia used such an ideology
as a basis for empire, combining Western colonialism with Asian
despotism inherited from traditions going back to Chinggis Khan.
The Soviet Russian conception of "Middle Asia" (Sredniaia
Aziia) included only the former Soviet republics between the
Tian Shan-Pamir Mountains and the Caspian Sea, but "Central
Asia" (Tsentral'naia Aziia) meant "Inner Asia,"
namely the territory of Mongolian Republic and contiguous Inner
Mongolia, including the Gobi Desert. After the collapse of the
Soviet Union, geographers in the post-Soviet space adopted the
Western nomenclature and speak of "Central Asia" instead
of "Middle Asia". Mongolia thus became construed as
a part of East Asia; but Mongolia and Inner Mongolia are populated
by non-Han peoples. Meanwhile, scholars of China, Japan and Korea
study Mongolia, Tibet, and (at least part of) Turkistan under
the rubric of "(East) Asian Studies."
As the empire of Chinggis Khan was divided after his death, his
grandchildren and descendants became rulers of countries and peoples
speaking diverse languages. To the sedentary peoples he invaded,
Chinggis Khan was a despot but the Kazakh Khanate inherited nomadic
traditions and structures. Its way of life included certain democratic
elements, such as resistance to abuse of power in peacetime, coupled
with the acceptance in wartime of "tyranny," much like
Cincinnatus of Ancient Roman history. While the khan was not a
crown prince, only the descendants of Chinggis Khan might be kings.
The Qurultay selected the potential candidate for election. Over
time, the chief of the tribe became only a nominal representative
of the tribe or the clans or communes within it. His functions
were under the control of the council of aqsaqals (elders). This
democratic aspect of Asian nomadism in fact distinguishes it from
the more widely disseminated concept of Asian state despotism,
characterized by China, India, the countries of Indochina and
the Islamic world.
The term "Central Eurasia" could be thought superficial
and stereotypical. Dr. Schoeberlein remarked that the definition
of Central Eurasia is anything but dogmatic. Eurasia is populated
by Tungusic and Turkic peoples of Siberia, by Uralic peoples of
the Volga Basin, by Caucasian Muslim and Caucasian Christian peoples,
by Muslim peoples of Eastern Europe and of Central Asia. It includes
Slavic peoples living in the Caucasus, Central Asia, and Siberia
as well as the indigenous population. But Central Eurasia is fundamentally
Central Asia, with other regions and subregions adjoined. The
territory of Central Asia is an historical space of interaction
of nomadic and settled peoples, in contact with both Islam and
Christianity, and likewise with both Asian and European cultures.
It seems to me that the territory of the former Soviet Union,
with extension into western China and the greater Middle East,
is a "full" Eurasia.
In general, we must understand that Eurasia is a composite of
two basic cultures and layers. Central Eurasia occupies a central
place in the system of interactions between Western and Eastern
civilizations. The September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks imposed
upon CESS an "urgent responsibility to communicate its knowledge
to the world," to communicate to Western mass publics and
leaders how Central Eurasia differs from Russia, East Asia, and
the Islamic World. This is a principal obligation of CESS in the
world today: to promote the study, in their full depth and breadth,
of the historical, political, socio-economic, ethno-psychological,
and cultural aspects of this great region. We must combine knowledge
of the past and present to ascertain the future of the region.
[Contents]
The Distinctive Factors of Central Eurasia: A Response to Professor
Gleason
Alexander Lehrman, Associate Professor, Department of
Foreign Languages and Literatures, University of Delaware, Newark,
Del., USA, lehrman udel.edu
Central Eurasia possesses a unique combination of linguistic
and cultural factors that make it a distinct area. The geographic,
historical, and socioeconomic circumstances of these factors are
quite well known and do not need to be reiterated here. The importance
of linguistic factors, however, is typically overlooked and deserves
to be pointed out.
The determining role of shared language and culture, particularly
literature, has been systematically underestimated in contemporary
theory which has privileged secondary (economic, social, and political)
factors. Yet shared language, and the shared culture based on
the transmitted texts in that language, clearly play the generative
role in forming the population's expectations and attitudes that
ultimately determine the speakers' choices, with important consequences,
both short- and long-term.
The most obvious examples include the recent "Anglophone"
go-it-alone military alliance in Iraq - a continuation of the
virtually unchanged close cooperation among the English-speaking
populations of the globe for over a century. There is also the
continuing struggle of the French-speaking world, led by France,
to assert its independence from the "Anglophone" world
in every domain. And there is the relatively cohesive "Arab
world" which has defined itself unabashedly along the linguocultural
lines, with the Quran as the main transmitted value-imparting
text, in reaction against the successful incursions of the "Francophone"
and "Anglophone" entities. These recent examples, and
more could be listed, clearly demonstrate that the forces of attraction
and repulsion work along the linguocultural lines.
Central Eurasia is no exception. If we wish to find the distinctive
features of Central Eurasia and attempt to discover the "power"
lines along which this area's development is likely to proceed,
we need to understand its linguocultural situation and the tendencies
inherent in that situation. Contrary to Professor Gleason's assertion
(2003: 3) that "no single language is spoken everywhere in
the [Central Eurasian] region", there is indeed such a language.
The existence of such a language also stands contrary to the ideological
aspirations of certain currently ascendant groups in the area.
Those aspirations, reflecting a strong reaction against a dominant
factor, are probative of this factor's enduring power.
This factor, this language is Russian. The populations of Bashkortostan
and Tatarstan, constituent parts of Russia for several hundred
years, are of course primarily Russian-speaking and thoroughly
bilingual. The peoples of most of the independent states in the
area - Azerbaijan, Armenia, Georgia, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan,
Turkmenistan, and Uzbekistan - are to a considerable extent conversant
with Russian. Some of the artists, performers, and writers native
to those parts achieved wide fame in the larger Russian-speaking
urban areas of the former Soviet Union, thanks precisely to their
work in and through the medium of Russian (e.g., Rasul Gamzatov,
Fazil Iskander, Chingiz Aitmatov, Mukhtar Auezov). These countries'
professional elites have a perfect command of Russian, their higher
education having been conducted almost entirely in that language.
The same applies to a predominant number of professionals in Mongolia,
though not to the population at large. Even in Afghanistan, to
an extent much larger than currently admitted, there is a significant
number of Russian-educated professionals. The areas not affected
by the dominance of Russian during the Soviet period include,
of course, Iran and, to a lesser extent, Xinjiang, although the
latter deserves special study in view of Chinese Turkistan's complicated
contacts with the largely Russian-speaking Kazakhstan. Russian
has deeply affected many of the languages of the area: their writing
systems remain Cyrillic-based, with the exception of Azeri that
switched recently to Latin and of course Armenian and Georgian
which have long preserved their epichoric alphabets. All of the
languages, particularly the Turkic ones, have borrowed their technical
and sociocultural vocabularies from Russian, often complete with
the Russian norms of pronunciation.
The authority of Russian, whose character has been changed by
the bankruptcy of the Marxist-Leninist ideology and its transmitted
texts, continues to be enhanced by a steady flow of prestigious
scientific and technological texts. Classical Russian texts also
have enduring importance, and are often markedly respectful of
the values of the autochthonous peoples (particularly certain
works by Pushkin, Lermontov, and Tolstoy). The Russian-language
works by Central Eurasian writers deeply rooted in the classical
Russian tradition also remain highly valued.
When Russian became a linguocultural determinant in the area,
three other determinants had already been at work. Most of the
people living in Central Eurasia are Turkic-speaking: Tatars,
Bashkorts, Azeris, Turkmens, Kyrgyz, Kazakhs, Uyghurs, and Uzbeks
all share a common Turkic language heritage. This of course includes
not just the fundamental lexicon and grammar but also texts, idioms,
proverbs, and even portions of oral epics, such as the Alpamish,
which derive from a linguistically transmitted common Turkic heritage.
Iranic linguocultural heritage is the second important determinant.
This stratum is directly represented by the languages and cultures
of Iran (Persian),Tajikistan (Tajik), and Afghanistan (Dari),
to all of whom the highly prestigious Classical Persian literature
and its language belong. These, however, have exerted a great
influence on the Turkic-language civilizations of the region.
Only Mongolia has remained outside of the Iranic sphere of influence.
It has also remained unaffected by the third important determinant:
Arabic.
The influence of Arabic, the language and the texts of the Islamic
civilization, is well-known and can hardly be overestimated. The
loanwords from Arabic in the Iranic and Turkic languages of the
region constitute from 50 to 60 percent of their vocabularies.
Arabic contributed greatly to all areas of culture now inseparable
from the basically Iranic and Turkic societies, beginning with
the writing systems and calendars of the area. It was only in
the 20th century that the Arabic writing system and calendar were
replaced with the Russian-derived ones for the Turkic and Iranic
languages of Central Asia.
I hope that these remarks have made it quite clear that there
is a unique combination of determinants characterizing Central
Eurasia precisely and objectively and in a fashion that is truly
meaningful. Geographic, political, and economic factors are the
venue, the ways, and the means, but the linguocultural factors
are the content - the explanatory narrative and the "mission
statement" - of the people sharing them.
[Contents]
Towards Rethinking Geopolitics
Mehdi Parvizi Amineh, Amsterdam School for Social Science
Research and International Institute for Asian Studies, University
of Amsterdam, The Netherlands, amineh pscw.uva.nl
The term "geopolitics" has various meanings, for example:
it may be taken as synonymous to political geography or politics
in its spatial dimension. For the realist school of international
relations it means rivalry among great-power states. It can mean
the geographic dimension of the foreign policy of a single state.
In strategic terms it may signify the struggle for control of
a certain geographic area. Also, the term "geopolitics"
is sometimes used as a synonym for international politics stressing
political and military behavior in a specific context.
The main ideas of traditional or "orthodox" geopolitics
are related to the realist and neo-realist schools of international
relations, based upon the Westphalian conception of the international
system. According to this view, the nation state is paramount
and international relations are best understand through a balance-of-power
approach among stages struggling for influence and dominance in
world politics. This geopolitical discourse emerged in the 19th
century (Kjellen 1897; Ratzel 1897; Mahan 1890) and developed
in the first half of the 20th (Mackinder 1904, 1919; Haushofer
1932; Spykman 1942). However, both the end of the Cold War and
globalization (internationalization of trade, transnationalization
of production and finance, and the internationalization of functions
of the state) have forced social scientists to rethink the meaning
of geopolitics.
A new approach to geopolitics, called critical geopolitics, has
been trying to create a synthesis between the traditional understanding
of geopolitics ("orthodox geopolitics") and the "geo-economics"
of the world political economy. Critical geopolitics developed
in the 1970s when some researchers began to reject a narrow concern
with "national security" as the defining feature of
geopolitics and sought a wider context of social and human development,
encompassing such concerns as poverty, violence, and environmental
degradation. Based on neo-Marxist political economy and "world-system"
theory, scholars started to incorporate not only the geographic
but also the economic dimensions of global politics into the conceptualization
of geopolitics (especially Taylor 1993). Under the influence of
critical theory and post-structuralist theory, the concept of
"critical geopolitics" has been introduced into geopolitical
discourse (Agnew and Corbridge 1995).
"Critical geopolitics" does not constitute the world
as a fixed hierarchy of states, cores and peripheries, spheres
of influence, flashpoints, buffer zones and strategic relations.
Rejecting state-centric reasoning, it favors a more nuanced vision
of world politics as a system dominated not only by political
states but also by economic and technological developments that
are capable of threatening the well-being of the citizens of those
states. The critical geopolitics approach holds that geographic
arrangements are social constructions that may change over time
with changing human economic demography. It holds that the relevant
actors for analysis of the political-geographic world include
not only states but also international and nongovernmental institutions,
as well as transnational movements and transgovernmental interest
groups. Critical geopolitics also disagrees with the assumption
of objectivity self-imputed by world-system theories as well as
by orthodox geopolitics. Rather, the critical-geopolitics school
holds that any geopolitical approach to world politics carries
conceptual and methodological assumptions that cannot help but
animate and influence analysis. Writers on critical geopolitics
therefore call for a methodological and conceptual re-evaluation
of political geography.
With the end of the Cold War, Central Eurasia has become an important
geo-strategic and geo-economic region in world politics. Many
countries in the region are politically weak and economically
dependent on Russia. The internal sovereignty of many governments
is contested by grave economic, financial, social and political
challenges. The critical-geopolitics school asserts that there
are causal relationships between socio-economic underdevelopment
on the one hand and, on the other hand, ethnic conflict, political
unrest, and (for instance) Islamic fundamentalist terrorism.
Central Asia and the South Caucasus are located north of the
great mountain chain that divides the Eurasian landmass as a pastoral
corridor of flat and easily traversed steppe lands. In the past,
the region functioned as the historical crossroads between Europe
and Asia. The history of Central Eurasia has been conditioned
to a large extent by the westward movements of Central Eurasian
peoples at least a far back into the past as 4000 BCE. For centuries
external forces have made contact with and sometimes ruled over
this region from different parts of the world. The main external
forces in the early Islamic phase of Central Eurasian history
from the eighth and ninth century onwards were the Abbasid Empire
(750-1258) and the Mongol Empire (1141-1469). However, after 1400
the horse-mounted archer was increasingly outgunned by artillery,
the musket and powder. Mobile societies of herdsmen were unable
to support manufacturing required to cope with invaders. Invaded
by Russians from the north, by Chinese from the east, by the Ottoman
and Persian Empires from the west, the region was conquered by
outsiders. Tsarist Russia colonized the region, which was subsequently
taken into the realm of Soviet industrialization.
Features characterizing the Central Asia and Caucasus regions,
if not the whole of Central Eurasia, thus include: the historic
confrontation between nomadic horsemen and settled agriculturalists;
the lands where Turkic, Iranian, Caucasian, Mongolian, Tungusic
and Tibetan peoples have proliferated; the Inner Asian territories
of Islam, Buddhism and Shamanism; and the emergence of the newly
independent states from the disintegration of the Soviet Union.
The strategic importance of the Central Asia/South Caucasus region
to the West is bound to increase substantially in the coming decades,
not least due to the region's vast energy resources. Also it is
a natural trade and transit link between Europe and Asia. Critical
geopolitics holds normatively that all these actors would benefit
from converting the region from a zone for geopolitical competition
and confrontation to a zone of cooperation. Even under the assumptions
of "orthodox geopolitics," the region's political stability
and socio-economic development in this region would be crucial
for global peace and security.
Critical geopolitics considers that the main actors in the contemporary
international relations of Central Eurasia comprise several levels.
The "inner circle" includes Russia, Iran, and Turkey.
The "outer circle" includes (a) the more distant states
China, India, Pakistan and also Afghanistan; and (b) the peripheral
states Ukraine, Romania, Bulgaria, Greece, Israel, and Saudi Arabia.
There are also actors external to the broader region, mainly the
United States, European Union, Japan and East Asian states. Non-state
actors such as ethno-religious movements, international organizations,
transnational energy companies, and international crime syndicates
are also significant to international relations.
[Contents]
The Specific and the General in Economic Policy Analysis and
Advice
Richard Pomfret, Associate Dean and Professor, School
of Economics, University of Adelaide, Australia, richard.pomfret adelaide.edu.au
In all social sciences there is a tension between seeking generalizations
and acknowledging specific conditions. In the Eurasian context,
this has been highlighted by the urgent need for well-founded
policy advice after the dissolution of the Soviet Union. The dichotomy
is often sharpest between economists on the one hand, especially
those related to the international financial institutions (or
IFI, meaning the International Monetary Fund and World Bank),
and, on the other hand, regional specialists. The area studies
specialists criticize the economists' models and econometric analysis
as based on general assumptions inappropriate to specific countries,
while the economists are dismayed by ad hoc treatment of social
structure, historical specificity or personal characteristics
of the leadership.
One reason why this dichotomy has been especially pronounced
with respect to Central Eurasia was the low status of studies
of this area in the high-income countries before 1992. While centers
of excellence existed, their salience was far less than that of
centers of Latin American studies in the United States or of African
studies in Europe, or of (East) Asian studies in most OECD countries.
After 1991 a large group of new independent countries in the Caucasus
and Central Asia, as well as Mongolia, urgently sought advice
on introducing and managing a market economy. For this they turned
to individuals and to institutions with high technical reputations,
the IFIs. The latter assumed this role despite their lack of expertise
in the region, and their limited experience with formerly centrally
planned economies. At the same time, area specialists, unused
to being involved in active policy debates, largely remained in
their ivory towers.
What was the outcome? Important elements of the early policy
advice were clearly right. For example, many Soviet-trained economic
policymakers blamed inflation on monopolies, but consistent emphasis
and explanation by foreign economists helped to convince policymakers
of the links between money creation and inflation, and between
financial deficits and money creation. The hyperinflation of the
early 1990s was only tamed after governments accepted this argument
and gave priority to monetary stabilization.
In other areas, however, economists' advice based on general
models was too simplistic. Large-scale privatization was not just
a matter of creating property rights so that resource allocation
could be efficient, as economists argued from the Coase Theorem.
The way in which privatization occurred mattered, both directly
in its impact on managerial quality and on equity and indirectly
through feedback effects on the political system. Economists underestimated
the potential for state capture, and that this might take diverse
forms in different countries.
The one-size-fits-all recommendations of the IFIs have had mixed
results. Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and Mongolia were relatively
willing pupils, but the economic outcomes differed markedly. Kyrgyzstan
liberalized its economy quickly but with disappointing outcomes
due to poor infrastructure, inappropriate institutions, and lack
of resources. Kazakhstan was slower to liberalize but, despite
a counterproductive alienation of state assets, had greater long-term
success, which might be explained by higher initial income levels
and human capital or by abundant resources. Mongolia, also resource-poor,
has been more successful than Kyrgyzstan, apparently due to its
more democratic and open political system than those in Central
Asia.
The poor pupils of the IFIs have also had diverse outcomes. Uzbekistan's
economic performance, in terms of GDP the best of all former Soviet
republics, does not fit into the IFIs' model. Ascribing this success
simply to "gradualism," as critics of the IFIs' "shock
therapy" approach are wont to do, is not helpful. Turkmenistan
has also been a gradualist, but with a significantly different
policy setting and economic outcome. Uzbekistan may have poor
prospects because of failure to reform more thoroughly, but its
economic performance during the 1990s cannot lightly be dismissed,
and predictions of future prospects would be more convincing if
we had a good explanation of past performance. For me, this has
something to do with inherited administrative strength derived
from Tashkent's central role in Soviet Central Asia, but there
may be other explanations which deeper country-specific analysis
might uncover.
How we assess the policy performance during the first post-Soviet
decade depends in part on our evaluation of the general outcome.
Critics of the IFIs' role emphasize the traumatic fall in living
standards, deindustrialization and rising external debt. Things
could, however, have been worse. Governance, including economic
management, has been sufficiently good to avoid widespread bloodshed,
except in Tajikistan. The whole of the former Soviet Union has
had a terrible time economically and, given their starting points
at the bottom of the heap, it is surprising that the Central Asian
countries have done better than the average.
In the second post-independence decade, things are more complex.
How to end hyperinflation, the principles of monetary and fiscal
policy, or of price reform are all more straightforward and universal
than managing an established market economy. Now, needs will change
from broad-based policy advice to deeper analysis of the consequences
of policy decisions or of other events or phenomena.
From the economists' side, the time should be ripe for fruitful
interdisciplinary cooperation. One of the most exciting branches
of economics in recent years has been the study of differences
in economic growth rates, in which there has been a fruitful blending
of theory and empirics. The consensus has moved beyond proximate
explanations of growth to "deeper" explanations of why
some countries, and not others, adopt policies conducive to economic
growth, and why good policies work well in some settings but are
ineffective elsewhere. While there is debate over the role of
deterministic factors such as geography and resource abundance,
there is a strong consensus that institutions matter. Institutions
are, however, broadly defined and remain essentially a black box
which economists need help in understanding.
In conclusion let me stress that this is not intended as a partisan
approach to the Methodenstreit between area specialists
and economists. Economists filled a policy void in the 1990s and
much of that early advice was good, even if far from perfect.
Area specialists may have had better understanding of Central
Asia, but they failed to meet the challenge in the 1990s because
much of their criticism of the economists' universal models was
of little practical help to policymakers facing novel problems
for which their training had not prepared them. In the second
decade of transition, more sophisticated analysis of Eurasian
economies is required and that will need the combined skills of
good economists and knowledgeable regional specialists.
References
Agnew, John, and Stuart Corbridge
1995 Mastering Space: Hegemony, Territory
and International Political Economy. London: Routledge.
Bar-Yam, Yaneer
1997 Dynamics of Complex Systems.
Cambridge: Perseus.
Barylski, Robert V.
1994 "The Russian Federation and Eurasia's
Islamic Crescent," Europe-Asia Studies, 46
(3) 389-416.
Bininachvili, Albert
1993 "Nuovi scenari della geopolitica,"
Politica Internazionale, 21 (2) 113-126.
Cutler, Robert M.
2003 "The Caspian energy conundrum,"
Journal of International Affairs, 56 (2) 89-102.
Gleason, Gregory
2003 "The centrality of Central Eurasia,"
Central Eurasian Studies Review, 2 (1) 2-5.
Haushofer, Karl
1932 Grenzen und ihrer Geographischen
und Politischen Bedeutung. Heidelburg: K. Vonwinckel.
Kjellen, Rudolf
1897 Fosterlandet och Unionen, Tal vid
Fosterländska Förbundets i Göteborg Årsmöte
den 1 Nov. Göteborg: Göteborgs Aftonblads Tryckeri.
Liu, Morgan Y.
2003 "Detours from utopia on the Silk
Road: ethical dilemmas of neoliberal triumphalism," Central
Eurasian Studies Review, 2 (2) 2-10.
Mackinder, Halford J.
1904 "The geographical pivot of history,"
Geographical Journal, 13: 421-437.
1919 Democratic Ideals and Reality: A
Study in the Politics of Reconstruction. New York: Holt.
Mahan, Alfred Thayer
1890 The Influence of Seapower upon History,
1660-1783. Boston: Little, Brown.
Ratzel, Friedrich
1897 Politische Geographie. München:
Oldenbourg.
Schoeberlein, John
2002 "Setting the stakes of a new society,"
Central Eurasian Studies Review, 1 (1) 4-9.
Spykman, Nicholas
1942 America's Strategy in World Politics.
The United States and the Balance of Power. New York: Harcourt
Brace & Co.
Taylor, Peter
1993 Political Geography of the Twentieth
Century: A Global Analysis. London: Belhaven.
[Contents]
Research Reports and Briefs
State Decline in Tajikistan and Uzbekistan
Lawrence P. Markowitz, Ph.D. Candidate, Department of
Political Science, University of Wisconsin, Madison, Wis., USA,
lmarkow polisci.wisc.edu
This study investigates why Tajikistan's state collapsed in 1992
into civil war while state power in Uzbekistan declined into a
mixture of coercion and material inducement consistent with predatory
rule.[1] To explain the patterns
in these two cases, my research has come to focus upon the conditions
under which local economic elites ("strongmen"), patronage
politics, and regionalism in national institutions contribute
to and detract from the use of coercion in state building.
Based on preliminary data analysis, I find that specific combinations
of local strongmen and regional patrons promoted very different
forms of regionalism in Tajikistan and Uzbekistan during the Soviet
period. The distinctive shapes of regionalism persisted into the
1990s, influencing the strategies and effectiveness of law enforcement
agencies in each case. In 1992, dissension over one region's hegemony
in Tajikistan split its national institutions from within, leading
to the capture of the central coercive apparatus, the state's
failure to police mass demonstrations, and eventually to state
collapse. Uzbekistan's decentralized regionalism, however, left
the center consolidated and its coercive apparatus intact. This
prevented the type of rapid breakdown that occurred in Tajikistan,
but the central leadership's growing reliance on coercion as a
means of political control has encouraged predatory behavior in
its law enforcement organs. State capture in Tajikistan and emerging
predatory rule in Uzbekistan are diverging outcomes that can be
best explained by each country's configuration of strongmen, patronage,
and regionalism.
By the end of the Soviet period, Tajikistan and Uzbekistan resembled
many "weak" states in Africa, Latin America, and Asia,
whose efforts to complement their juridical sovereignty with empirical
sovereignty are complicated by diffused systems of authority at
the interstices of state and society (Migdal 1988; Jackson and
Rosberg 1982). Yet, state weakness in Tajikistan and Uzbekistan
was characterized by two features of the Soviet system: (1) concentrations
of wealth under local agricultural, industrial, or resource extraction
operations, constituting the heads of these operations as "strongmen"
within their localities; and (2) devolution of political authority
to provincial governors (Obkom [oblastnoi komitet;
provincial committee] First Secretaries), giving them opportunities
to construct regional patronage relations. Local strongmen and
regional patronage relations influenced the organization of state
power in all Soviet republics (albeit in different ways), but
these variables are of particular interest here because they distinguish
Tajikistan and Uzbekistan from each other better than variables
identified in general theories of state breakdown.[2]
In conducting my research, I used a comparative case study approach
which placed Tajikistan and Uzbekistan within a "most similar"
research design - one that seeks to explain different outcomes
among cases that are otherwise similar. I organized my field research
so that I could spend the first phase (September 2002 in Uzbekistan
and October-December 2002 in Tajikistan) collecting data on strongmen,
patronage relations, and regionalism. I designed my data collection
on these variables around specific indicators[3]
and used national, regional, and district newspapers, various
issues of the economic handbook Narodnoe khoziaistvo, and
ministry publications. My research yielded biographies of central
elites and regional governors, several databases of tenures of
central elites, district governors and collective farm chairs,
and local budget figures in each country from 1960-2001 (though
gaps in the data remain to be filled). In addition, I collected
several elite biographical works and conducted brief interviews
with local elites, journalists, and on selected collective farms.
Preliminary analysis of these data confirms most assessments
of Tajikistan: that a type of regionalism emerged which effectively
split the center from within (Dudoignon and Jahangiri 1994; Roy
2000). Specifically, my analysis suggests that concentrations
of strongmen of collective farms and regional patronage relations
in the Leninabad province promoted its hegemony in key ministries
of the republic's political economy, while local strongmen active
in the Mountain-Badakhshan Autonomous Province's growing underground
economy sustained its control within the Ministry of Internal
Affairs. Data also show that these same variables were more evenly
spread across regions in Uzbekistan, leaving Uzbekistan's central
leadership undivided but ringed by powerful regional political
machines. I believe that this difference accounts for the mobility
of Uzbekistan's coercive apparatus in policing demonstrations
in the early 1990s and for Tajikistan's immobility. Since much
of this became clear to me while I was in the field, I was unable
to interview elites who worked in the central offices of each
country's law enforcement agencies at that time. I plan to interview
these former officials during a follow-up field trip.
During the second phase of my research in Uzbekistan (January-August
2003), I investigated the effects that local strongmen, patronage,
and regionalism have on the country today. I decided to focus
on the Prosecutor General and its regional and district offices.
Since the mid-1990s the Prosecutor General's office has been given
permission to use its wide-ranging formal powers to spearhead
state-building in the country. Its mandate has included reducing
the power of regional and district governors. I designed my ethnographic
research so that it focused on the successes and failures of this
effort among regional and district prosecutors. Over several months
I conducted approximately 50 semi-structured interviews of high-level
staff in district prosecutors' and district governors' offices
and another 50 interviews of journalists, external observers,
and lawyers in regional law offices. I conducted these interviews
mainly in Uzbek (several were in Russian) in a random selection
of districts in Tashkent City and in the provinces of Samarqand
and Ferghana (lawyers were interviewed in other regional centers
as well). Within each locality, informants were selected based
on their professional position only, not according to ethnicity,
sex, or social class.
Preliminary findings from these interviews suggest that the use
of the Prosecutor General's office to undermine regional elites
in Uzbekistan has had mixed results. There have been some successes,
but prosecutors are underpaid, overworked, and often in debt from
(formal and informal) law school expenditures. In addition, many
view their primary role not as an anti-corruption mechanism but
as a support for local resource extraction. As such, many of the
local offices of the Prosecutor General have become incorporated
within regional patronage relations and, paradoxically, enhance
them. At the same time, where prosecutors remain relatively autonomous
from regional governors and local strongmen, patterns of predatory
behavior upon local economic actors have emerged, posing a new
challenge to Uzbekistan's political and economic development.
However, variation within Uzbekistan is significant and I hope
to specify patterns in other localities through interviews in
several regional centers upon my return to the field.
References
Beissinger, Mark, and Crawford Young, eds.
2002 Beyond State Crisis? Postcolonial
Africa and Post-Soviet Eurasia in Comparative Perspective.
Washington, D.C.: Woodrow Wilson Center Press.
Deng, Francis M.
1995 War of Visions: Conflict of Identities
in the Sudan. Washington, D.C.: Brookings Institution Press.
Dudoignon, Stéphane A., and Guissou Jahangiri,
eds.
1994 Le Tadjikistan existe-t-il? Destins
politiques d'une "nation imparfaite" [Does Tajikistan
exist? The political destinies of an 'imperfect nation']. Cahiers
d'Etudes sur la méditerranée orientale et le monde
turco-iranien, Vol. 18.
Ellis, Stephen
1999 The Mask of Anarchy: The Destruction
of Liberia and the Religious Dimension of an African Civil War.
New York: New York University Press.
Jackson, Robert H., and Carl Rosberg
1982 "Why Africa's weak states persist:
the empirical and juridical in statehood," World Politics,
35 (1) 1-24.
King, Charles
2001 "The benefits of ethnic war: understanding
Eurasia's unrecognized states," World Politics 53
(4) 524-552.
Lewis, Ioan M.
1994 Blood and Bone: The Call of Kinship
in Somali Society. Lawrenceville, N.J.: Red Sea Press.
Migdal, Joel S.
1988 Strong Societies and Weak States:
State-Society Relations and State Capabilities in the Third World.
Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press.
Reno, William
1995 Corruption and State Politics in
Sierra Leone. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Roy, Olivier
2000 The New Central Asia: The Creation
of Nations. New York: New York University Press.
Rubin, Barnett R.
1995 The Fragmentation of Afghanistan:
State Formation and Collapse in the International System.
New Haven: Yale University Press.
Notes
[1] State breakdown or
decline is a general term describing the diminishing effectiveness
of a state's institutions to function. State collapse refers to
the complete failure of state institutions and concurrent social
disintegration (often internal conflict). Predatory rule denotes
a personalistic regime ruling through coercion and rewards to
collaborators. For more, see Beissinger and Young (2002) and Lewis
(1996).
[2] Three common theories
would emphasize that Tajikistan and Uzbekistan differ in: (a)
how identities were formed and mobilized (Lewis 1994; Deng 1995);
(b) the incentives among state rulers whose informal pacts of
accommodation with local strongmen may or may not force them to
purposely dismantle state institutions (Reno 1995; Ellis 1999;
King 2001); and (c) levels of economic dependence on a foreign
patron (Rubin 1995). While possible to apply to Tajikistan's collapse,
none of these explanations adequately accounts for why Uzbekistan
did not also collapse.
[3] A "strongman"
exists when his or her (and there were female strongmen) tenure
outlasted that of his/her immediate superior (the Raikom
[raionnyi komitet; regional committee] First Secretary). The shape
of regional patronage relations is indicated by the lateral movements
of Raikom First Secretaries within a province and by the
origins of provincial governors. Types of regionalism are defined
by the distribution of key positions in national institutions
among regionally based elites.
[Contents]
Towards a Connection between Religion and Nationality in Central
Asia
Sébastien Peyrouse, Post-doctoral Fellow, French
Institute for Central Asian Studies (Institut Français
d'Etudes sur l'Asie Centrale, IFEAC), Tashkent, Uzbekistan, sebpeyrouse yahoo.com
This report presents findings of a research project conducted
for a Ph.D. on Christian movements and believers in Central Asia
from 1945 through the present. It is a result of a two-year stay
(1998-2000) in the five republics of Central Asia with the support
of IFEAC, where I currently pursue research on politics and religion
in Central Asia after independence. This research is based on
library work (in Paris, Nanterre, Strasbourg, Oxford, Moscow,
and throughout Central Asia, especially in Tashkent, Dushanbe,
Ashgabat, Bishkek, Almaty and Öskemen [Ust'-Kamenogorsk]),
plus surveys and interviews. I also extensively used Russian-language
Soviet and post-Soviet newspapers, such as Kazakhstanskaia
pravda, Kommunist Tadzhikistana, Pravda vostoka, Sovetskaia Kirgiziia,
and periodicals covering religious issues, such as Bratskii
vestnik, Zhurnal moskovskoi patriarkhii, Svet pravoslaviia v Kazakhstane,
Vedi, Zhizn' very, and Slovo zhizni. A number of important
documents came from church libraries or were given to me by priests,
pastors, and believers. I interviewed state officials in charge
of religious affairs, representatives and believers of all Christian
denominations present in the area, from the Orthodox Church to
the Catholic Church, and the numerous Protestant denominations.
In Central Asia Christianity was not only persecuted by the atheist
regime, but it was also a minority religion in a Muslim area.
After independence the national character of a minority faith
appeared more obviously within the framework of the Muslim majority
and of the new nation-state building. This did not prevent numerous
movements from successful missionary work. Many missions, especially
Protestant ones, are now active among the Kazakhs, Kyrgyz, and
Uzbeks. What is the link between nationality and religion, and
how did the Russian Orthodox Church appropriate the concept of
nationality after 1991? Are Orthodoxy and Islam trying to bipolarize
the religious spectrum in Central Asia in the name of the link
between nationality and religion?
The Soviet pattern - that is, a faith fighting for its own existence
in an atheist regime - has given way in the post-Soviet period
to a Central Asian specificity: Christianity as a minority faith
which appears as a symbol of European identity in a Muslim land.
European emigration significantly increased from the times of
perestroika and independence, considerably diminishing the number
of Christians, and arousing the Christian clergy's anxiety. Minorities
have expressed their fear evoked by the indigenization of power,
and ethnic nationalism has become a key element in the religious
revival. This "ethnic-religious" combination constitutes
one of the responses to the Central Asian situation. From the
titular group's point of view Islam may be viewed as a just return
of religion which used to be persecuted by a foreign regime, and
which would be essential in the context of nation-building.
The Titular Nationality-Islam Connection
The rapid rise of foreign Christian missions and the conversions
of members of the titular nationality (e.g., Uzbeks in Uzbekistan)
have caused some hostile reactions from the Muslim clergy who
consider themselves "at home" in Central Asia. If Muslims
claim to respect Christianity, pressures have grown against the
religious movements whose proselytism amidst Muslims is too obvious.
This hostility is expressed in countries such as Tajikistan and
Uzbekistan, but also the other republics less influenced by Islam
such as Kyrgyzstan, where Christian missionary activity is especially
potent: petitions against the activities of these movements were
signed in Kyrgyz mosques. In Uzbekistan, the Muslim clergy's pressures
have born fruit: the political authorities have reviewed legislation
on religion.
The Russian-Orthodox Connection
The Muslim refusal of Protestant or even Catholic proselytism
is supported by the Orthodox Church, which tries to justify its
position towards Islam and its predominance over the other Christian
movements. It asserts an intrinsic tie connecting every Russian
to Eastern Orthodox Christianity. The terms "Russian"
and "Orthodoxy" would then be strictly bound together.
The Orthodox Church tries to crystallize to its advantage the
Russian population's status of political and cultural minority.
The prayer house enables people to meet "compatriots,"
while the liturgy uses multiple specific cultural aspects.
The link between nationality and religion in Kazakhstan is emphasized
by the notion of canonical territory, which according to Orthodoxy
concerns all of post-Soviet space. In the name of a supposed precedence
over all other churches today present in this area, Orthodoxy
claims the right of preeminence, not only over the religious affairs
of Russians, but over those of all citizens. In this perspective,
a Christian living in any area colonized by Russia would have
to be Orthodox. There would be only two exceptions: first, people
of non-Slavic origin whose history and culture are bound to another
religion (e.g., Uzbeks, Tajiks, Georgians), and second, people
whose nationality is culturally bound to a church situated beyond
the former USSR borders (e.g., Catholic Poles, Protestant Germans).
The simple presence of some Russian soldiers, Cossack garrisons
or Old Believers since the beginning of the 18th century, in particular
in the northern Kazakh Steppe, would be enough to support the
idea that Central Asia belongs to the Russian world and is intrinsically
bound to Orthodoxy. The two Orthodox journals published in Kazakhstan,
Vedi and Svet pravoslaviia v Kazakhstane, highlight
pre-Soviet Russian history while erasing the Soviet period, which
has lost its legitimacy. In this perspective the Russian presence
in Kazakhstan is a legacy from the Russian empire and not from
Soviet rule.
The Russian Orthodox Church also highlights its link to the Russian
nation, while preserving a moderate and accommodating discourse
on the new states' political reality, where challenging political
frontiers or expressing any kind of irredentism is strictly banned.
The Church has to distance itself from the most nationalistic
and Cossack movements and has refused to be associated with any
kind of unofficial political action. The archbishop of Astana
and Almaty has made several statements in interviews and articles
weakening the link between religion and nation. The Church especially
focuses on the notion of civic patriotism based on territory of
residence. Nevertheless, the Orthodox Church cannot solve the
contradiction stemming from its claim of a "canonical"
territory that implies the existence of a specific link through
which Kazakhstan would be, on a religious plane, dependent on
Moscow.
Islam and Orthodoxy: Between Cohabitation and Alliance
In the name of national stability, which would be threatened
by proselytism and so-called "foreign denominations,"
Orthodoxy tries to polarize the religious spectrum around the
Orthodoxy-Islam duo in order to minimize the influence of Protestantism
and so-called non-traditional denominations. Orthodoxy and Islam
each refuse to engage in proselytism among nationalities traditionally
belonging to the other religion. "In Central Asia and in
Russia, there is a natural distribution of the sphere of influence
between the two main religions, Orthodoxy and Islam, and no one
will destroy this harmony" (Botasheva and Lebedev 1996).
The Orthodox hierarchy emphasizes its mutual understanding with
Islam and asserts that "Islam is closer to Orthodoxy than
other Christian confessions" (Peyrouse 2003: 288). Some embarrassing
elements of Orthodox history in Central Asia are then forgotten,
as for example the existence of a "Kyrgyz" (i.e., Kazakh)
anti-Muslim "mission" in the Kazakh steppes in 1881.
The Church also participates in several symbolic events in Kazakhstan,
such as commemorations of Abay Qŭnanbaev or Shoqan Uälikhanov
[Valikhanov].
If Orthodoxy advocates Russians' rights in Central Asia, it also
strives to preserve its good favor with local regimes. When the
Russian nationality refers to Orthodox history, this notion of
Orthodoxy is not, according to the Archbishop of Astana and Almaty,
transnational but on the contrary comes within the scope of the
territorial entity in which a Christian lives. Orthodoxy in Central
Asia claims to be "autochthonous" (e.g., Svet pravoslaviia
v Kazakhstane 1999). Despite its subordination to the Moscow
Patriarchate, it refuses to get involved in the Russian Federation
and rejects all supra-state political thought so as not to appear
a foreign element in Central Asia.
The effort to bipolarize the religious spectrum in Central Asia
has met with uneven success, but it is at times strongly supported
by local governments. President Niyazov of Turkmenistan has divided
the religious spectrum into two distinct wholes which cannot interfere
with each other in terms of flux of believers and conversions.
Thus, a Turkmen believer is supposed to be Muslim and a European
believer - Orthodox. The other republics, especially Uzbekistan,
are also evolving in this direction despite the persistence of
an official policy of a more diversified religious spectrum.
Unlike certain other Muslim countries, there is no discrimination
against Christianity on the whole in post-Soviet Central Asia,
as Orthodoxy and other denominations, such as Catholics or Lutherans,
are fully recognized. Although discrimination exists against some
specific denominations that are viewed as foreign movements (such
as Jehovah's Witnesses, Pentecostals and even Baptists and Seventh
Day Adventists), in practice, no Orthodox in Central Asia complains
about flagrant inequality, which would give Christians a lower
status. The religious differences are dominated by national identification.
Central Asia in this sense remains closer to the rest of former
Soviet space than to the Near and Middle East. There is no desire
to eliminate Christian practices, whether Orthodox or non-Orthodox,
but rather a more subtle discrimination against national (European)
minorities through the violation of certain religious rights.[1]
The religion-nationality connection is, of course, not unique
to Central Asia and Orthodoxy. Nevertheless, it reveals various
questions people raise while facing numerous changes in their
society. At the same time it also shows a certain continuity in
post-Soviet Central Asia, as this paradigm existed prior to independence.
For Russians in Tsarist and Soviet Central Asia, Orthodoxy was
a way to mark their identity in a Muslim environment. This link
is being reinforced by the new social, economic, and national
context, and by the new opportunity for individuals to practice
their religious beliefs with fewer restrictions.
This work on Christianity is part of an ongoing research project
at IFEAC on the mutual instrumentalization of politics and religion
in post-Soviet Central Asia. One of its goals is to study how
political discourse uses religious (Muslim, Christian, etc.) phenomena
in the framework of nation-state building, and how political powers
are attempting to display an image of religious pluralism and
freedom. Our present research also examines how religion is viewed
by the national minorities, especially in their politico-cultural
claims. This question not only concerns minorities of Muslim origin,
such as Caucasians or Central Asians living outside their eponymous
state, but also the European-Slavic minorities. Since 2003 we
have concentrated our work on the Russian minority living in Central
Asia, especially in Kazakhstan. One of the objectives is to study
how Russians are attempting to use the Orthodox Church in defense
of their rights in this republic and how the Church replies in
the framework authorized by the political power.
References
Botasheva, I., and V. Lebedev
1996 "'Krestonostsy' kontsa XX veka,"
Kazakhstanskaia pravda, April 2, 1996.
Peyrouse, Sébastien
2003 Des chrétiens entre athéisme
et islam: regards sur la question religieuse en Asie centrale
soviétique et post-soviétique. Paris: Maisonneuve
et Larose.
Svet pravoslaviia v Kazakhstane
1999 No. 9-10 (66-67) 10-11.
Note
[1] The Orthodox and Muslim
hierarchies take remarkably similar positions in each of the Central
Asian republics: all condemn Protestant proselytism. In the area
of religious legislation, however, missionary Christian movements
are much less restricted in Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan than in
Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan.
[Contents]
The Role of the Pilgrimage in Relations between Uzbekistan and
the Uzbek Community of Saudi Arabia
Bayram Balcı, Researcher, the Turkey and Caucasus
Program, French Institute for Anatolian Studies (Institut Français
d'Etudes Anatoliennes, IFEA), Beyoğlu-Istanbul, Turkey, balci azeurotel.com
This report presents the results of my study of a Central Asian
community - Uzbeks in today's terminology - who settled in Saudi
Arabia in several successive waves starting from the early 1940s,
and who are identified by Saudis as Turkistani or Bukhari, according
to the regions of their origin. Given Uzbekistan's independence,
Saudi Uzbeks today define themselves as Turkistani or Uzbek, depending
on the situation.
The study was conducted during two two-week pilgrimages (umra)
with Central Asian pilgrims and Saudi Uzbeks at the time of Ramadan
in December 2000 and November 2001 in Jeddah, Mecca, and Medina.
I also conducted several field visits among the Uzbek community
in Turkey and in Uzbekistan, where I followed Saudi Uzbeks visiting
their relatives. The findings of this study are based on regular
contacts with 15 families who invited me to their homes, on interviews
with more than 80 individuals during each pilgrimage, and on family
archives, i.e., pictures, letters and videos. The research was
supported by the Centre Français de Recherches sur le Moyen-Orient
Contemporain (CERMOC, located in Beirut and Amman) and the Konrad
Adenauer Foundation.
In this report I argue that the pilgrimage plays an important
role in preserving Uzbek identity on the ground. The Uzbek community
(with Uyghurs, another Turkic community exiled in Saudi Arabia,
not studied here) is one of only two national groups that have
succeeded in achieving relative integration in Saudi Arabia without
being completely assimilated. This is notable, since the kingdom
makes it difficult for immigrants to preserve their identities.
Before Russian colonization in the 19th century, Central Asians
had multiple identities - familial, tribal, regional, and religious.
When needed, one would refer to one or all of his/her identities.
According to scholars and old refugees in Mecca and Medina, in
the early 1930s when Soviet control over the region of Central
Asia grew stronger and more violent, the term "Uzbek,"
that already existed at the time had no real meaning for the exiles.
Synonymous with "confederation of tribes," it was of
secondary importance for the people who preferred to be identified
as "Kokandi," "Namangani," "Marghilani,"
"Farghani," etc. The outsiders called them Turkistani
or, more frequently, Bukhari, referring to the last local independent
Emirate and then Socialist Republic of Bukhara (Shalinsky 1994).
Reasons for Exile: New Political and Economic Order
The existing literature on Central Asian migrations (e.g., Shalinsky
1994; Komatsu, Obiya and Schoeberlein, eds. 2000) and my interviews
with elders in Saudi Arabia highlight two main reasons for the
Turkistani to leave their homeland. Soviet control over the region,
with its new coercive economic structure (collectivization and
its rejection by landowners) and social-political order (abolition
of religious courts and "Russification" of the educational
system) pushed people to exile.
Two directions were chosen - East to Kashgar and South to Afghanistan.
Some, after a relatively short stay (a couple of months or years),
proceeded farther to Turkey and Saudi Arabia. This route was especially
attractive partly because of the holy status of the destination,
and also because the young Kingdom of Saudi Arabia was among the
few Islamic countries to welcome refugees. For pragmatic reasons
the Saudi government viewed the migrants as an opportunity to
support the population and development efforts of the kingdom.
It was also important for the first Islamic state to prove solidarity
with the Muslim population persecuted by a communist and atheist
regime. With leadership ambitions over the Muslim world, King
Abdel Aziz (1876-1953) was not only in charge of the holy cities
but also desired to be considered as the protector of all Muslims.
This explains the warm welcome and reception of the Turkistani
exiles, even as foreign communities enjoyed no separate existence
as national groups in Saudi Arabia.
Evolution of Uzbek Identity in Saudi Arabia
The Turkistanis used different identity strategies to ease their
migration. The differences in tribal identities were smoothed
away in favor of muhajir and Bukhari. On the thorny path
of exodus the community considered itself as muhajir -
refugees fleeing persecution, in the Islamic sense of the word,
comparing oneself to the first muhajir, the Prophet Muhammad
in his hijra (exile) from Mecca to Medina. The use of the
word muhajir probably commanded sympathy among the Saudis;
so did the second identification as Bukhari, which bears not only
a geographical significance, but most importantly a religious
meaning. By calling themselves Bukhari they demonstrated to the
Saudi authorities and population their close relationship with
Isma'il al Bukhari, the great Islamic thinker from Bukhara, who
was respected in Saudi Arabia.
Like other foreign communities Uzbeks were deprived of the right
to create cultural associations and to teach children their native
language. Contacts with Turkistan (soon subdivided into five Soviet
republics) were made impossible during the Cold War. The community
was linguistically Arabized in less than two or three decades.
However, contacts with the Uzbeks of Turkey and with Turkish workers
or pilgrims in Saudi Arabia facilitated (at least for the community
leaders) the survival of Turkic vernaculars that mixed Anatolian
and Uzbek languages. In Soviet times the impossibility of visiting
the homeland pushed the community leaders closer to Turkey, where
exiles established an important Uzbek community.
In 1991 the independence of Uzbekistan brought new hope to the
Uzbeks of Saudi Arabia, who were threatened with dilution into
the Arab culture. Renewed relationships through the pilgrimage
undoubtedly influenced the Saudi Uzbeks' identity.
In the Soviet literature the hajj, synonymous with obscurantism,
was totally forbidden except for 10 to 15 handpicked loyal officials.
Even though forbidden, the institution of the ribat turned
hajj into a cohesion tool within the diaspora. Ribats,
created by Turkistani sponsors to facilitate the hajj of
their poor countrymen, had existed even before the Uzbek immigration
to Saudi Arabia. They functioned as rest houses for fellow townsmen.
Namangan, Kokand Marghilan, and even Kashgar and Khotan had their
own ribats. Until 1991 these foundations played a crucial
role in maintaining the solidarity among the members of the Central
Asian community at large. In the absence of legal, cultural, or
ethnic associations the ribats also functioned as meeting
centers for old leaders (aqsaqal) of the community with
the Turkistani-Uzbek pilgrims exiled in Turkey. Now ribats
have a chance to evolve into business centers to coordinate cooperation,
to develop networks and forums for the exchange of views, and
eventually, to redefine the common identity.
Much was expected from the pilgrimage, as Saudi Uzbeks (especially
the young ones) do not travel much to Uzbekistan. Pilgrimage had
become a source of interest in Uzbekistan long before the end
of the Soviet regime (Hayitov, Sobirov and Legai 1992). In 1992
Islam Karimov adopted a more open policy towards Islam after he
performed the hajj and received an excellent welcome from
the Saudis (thanks to the Uzbek community leaders who had presented
him as a descendant of Isma'il al Bukhari). Above all, Uzbekistan's
independence marked the reopening of the route to Mecca. From
1992 to 1996 the relationship between the two countries was good
and 3,000-4,000 Uzbek pilgrims visited Saudi Arabia annually for
the hajj or umra. After 1996, due to the rise of
Wahhabism in the Ferghana Valley with alleged involvement of some
Saudi Uzbek leaders, Tashkent decided to tighten its control over
religious activity in the country and restrict the entering of
Saudi Uzbeks into their homeland. The growing scope of pilgrimage
and mutual influence contributed to the transformation of the
Saudi Uzbeks' identity.
Independent Uzbekistan and Uzbeks have revived pride among the
Turkistani group. While some intellectuals eschew the term "Uzbek"
as a pure invention of the Russian colonizers to break the Turkic
unity in Central Asia and beyond, today when asked about their
identity most Saudi Uzbeks tend to add the term "Uzbek"
after "Muslim" and "Turkistani" to indicate
their belonging to the broader Turkic family. However, for the
Saudi population and authorities nothing has changed as Saudi
Uzbeks are still perceived as Turkistani or Bukhari. Furthermore
and surprisingly, they do not differentiate Saudi Uzbeks from
the other two Turkic communities exiled in Saudi Arabia - the
Uyghurs of Eastern Turkistan (Xinjiang) who arrived after the
communist takeover in China in 1949, and the Afghan Uzbek refugees
who arrived after Afghanistan's invasion by the Soviet Army in
1979. Although all these Turkic groups are called Turkistani in
Saudi Arabia, they present significant differences in terms of
identity and solidarity. This is a subject which requires further
study.
References
Hayitov, Sh. A., N. S. Sobirov and A. S. Legai
1992 Xorijdagi O'zbeklar [Uzbeks in
Foreign Countries]. Toshkent: Fan Nashriyoti.
Komatsu, Hisao, Obiya Chika and John Schoeberlein,
eds.
2000 Migration in Central Asia: Its History
and Current Problems. JCAS Symposium Series 9, Osaka:
Japan Center for Area Studies.
Shalinsky, Audrey
1994 Long Years of Exile: Central Asian
Refugees in Afghanistan and Pakistan. London: London University
Press.
[Contents]
Reviews and Abstracts
Reviews
Mark Slobin, Afghanistan Untouched. Traditional
Crossroads CD 4319, 2003. 2 CDs, 40 pp., notes, photos, ASIN B0000A4GAH,
$14.00.
Reviewed by: Rachel Harris, Ph.D., Lecturer in Music,
School of Oriental and African Studies, London, UK, rh soas.ac.uk
"Before its lands were crushed, its people scattered,
and its music silenced by chaos and decree, Afghanistan overflowed
with musical treasure" (CD back cover).
On the eve of the US-led overthrow of Taliban rule, that regime's
suppression of music became a powerful symbol in Western portrayals
of Afghanistan (Baily 2001). Footage of unspooled cassette tape
hanging from Afghan trees came to symbolize the cultural wasteland.
In the aftermath of the Afghan war, with the introduction of a
more liberal regime at least in Kabul, Western groups have been
active in seeking to aid a musical renaissance. Crate-loads of
classical Western instruments have arrived at the Kabul conservatory,
where no one can be found who knows how to play them; a passing
German rock band persuaded two burqa-clad women to pose
for photographs playing an electric guitar and drum set. Ethnomusicologists
have been more interested in the possibilities for revival of
the myriad Afghan traditions. This new release joins a number
of re-issues of books (Sakata 2002) and CDs (Ustad Mohammad
Omar 2002), and complements Mark Slobin's new website (http://www.wesleyan.edu/its/acs/modules/
slobin/html/) which makes available a great deal of original
material from his earlier book on music in Northern Afghanistan
(Slobin 1976).
The sound quality on these CDs, mastered largely from the original
1968 Uher 4000/L mono recordings, is remarkably fresh and immediate.
The tracks on the first CD were recorded among the Central Asian
peoples of northern Afghanistan, descendants of Uzbeks who crossed
the Amu Darya in 1500 and Tajiks, Kazakhs, and Turkmen who fled
the USSR in the 1920s. These are Central Asian folk traditions,
a world away from the "classical" Indian-derived tradition
of the Afghan rubab. There are some fabulous recordings
of the felak songs of tragic love which are also common
in southern Tajikistan, (CD1, tracks 2 and 5, with beautiful translations
of the lyrics), and there is a rare recording of professional
Uzbek women wedding singers (CD1, track 12) which is very reminiscent
of the Bukharan style. The second CD contains some real treasures
from the eastern city of Herat with its Iranian influences: a
charming children's song (CD2, track 9), and some stunning Herati
dutar playing (CD2, track 10). This CD also includes some
extraordinary rarities from the small Kazakh and Turkmen communities
in Afghanistan.
The accompanying liner notes are lucid and packed with information.
The recordings serve as an admirable illustration of Slobin's
earlier theories of shared and discrete music cultures, but these
notes differ from his earlier writing in their attention to the
personal. They include many sensitively drawn portraits of the
featured musicians, complemented by some beautiful black and white
photographs. It is the throw-away remarks which are most revealing
of the culture of the time: the inclusion of Hindi film tunes
in the local repertoire; references to the expensive local delicacy
of Polish candy; the musicians' habit of "vamping indeterminately"
to keep the dance going. The freshness of the material at this
remove in time is a tribute to the great dedication and care with
which the original fieldwork was undertaken. This is a welcome
and moving addition to the excellent Traditional Crossroads series.
References
Baily, John
2001 "Can You Stop the Birds Singing?"
The Censorship of Music in Afghanistan. Copenhagen: Freemuse.
http://www.freemuse.org/03libra/pdf/
Afghanistansats.pdf
Ustad Mohammad Omar: Virtuoso from Afghanistan
2002 Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Folkways
Recordings.
Sakata, Hiromi Lorraine
2002 [1983] Music in the Mind: The Concepts
of Music and Musician in Afghanistan. Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian
Institution Press.
Slobin, Mark
1976 Music in the Culture of Northern
Afghanistan. Tucson: University of Arizona Press.
[Contents]
Eric W. Sievers, The Post-Soviet Decline of Central Asia:
Sustainable Development and Comprehensive Capital. London:
Routledge Curzon, 2003. 264 pp., illustrations. ISBN 0700716602,
$75.00.
Reviewed by: Daniel Stevens, Doctoral Candidate, Development
Studies, School of Oriental and African Studies, University of
London, UK, stevens pobox.com
That the 1990s was a decade of decline for Central Asia is a
conclusion that resonates with the experience of many, and yet
largely for reasons of politics is one that few have admitted
in official reports and scholarly writings. In this idiosyncratic
and yet important work, Eric Sievers bravely attempts to develop
a "robust" explanation for this decline, using the idea
of "comprehensive capital." The author begins to unpack
this concept in the introduction, arguing that sustainable development
involves more than just preserving physical capital, but depends
upon a virtuous cycle of increasing stocks of physical capital
along with less tangible phenomena of health, education, institutions
and trust. The author draws on a number of theories that have
attached the label "capital" to such issues, and takes
these disparate theories and attempts to relate them to each other
under the heading "comprehensive capital," focusing
on the way that deficits in one can negatively affect the others.
This is then illustrated in the first half of the book, as the
author charts the squandering of capital stocks built up in the
Soviet era in the areas of natural capital (Chapter 1), human
capital (Chapter 2), organizational capital (Chapter 3), and social
capital (Chapter 4). The chapters are full of well-judged commentary
and tantalizing detail, and reflect the author's depth of experience
in the region and an equally impressive breadth of understanding
of theoretical approaches. His case for the decline of human capital
is particularly compelling, and the section on social capital
showcases an ability to draw from a range of material - a quantitative
study of mahallas (neighborhoods) in Uzbekistan accompanied
by excellent insights into how everyday phenomena such as queues
and taxi rides can illuminate wider social processes.
The second half of the book takes international environmental
law as the "lens through which to frame a workable investigation
into how Central Asia's comprehensive capital relates to aspirations
for sustainable development" (p. 27). There follows a somewhat
involved investigation into how the Central Asian states have
encountered and responded to the increasing number of environmental
treaties, institutions and NGOs that make up the "international
environmental regime." His conclusion is that "both
donors and Central Asian governments can pretty much say whatever
they want and do whatever they want in Central Asia without
much concern ... for their veracity, legality, or [the] consequences
of their actions" (p. 144).
Considerable blame for this is attributed to the actions of donors,
and Sievers concludes his critical review of "internationalizing"
the Central Asian environment by asking whether things would have
been much worse if the international community had not become
involved (Chapter 6). Given the amount of resources invested in
seeking to lead the new Central Asian states down the right path,
it is damning that Sievers ends on an equivocal note. The World
Bank and United Nations Development Program (UNDP) come off particularly
badly, being likened to Soviet institutions in their command style
of management, their lack of democracy, their violations of their
own rules, and in particular the UNDP's effective arrogation of
the role of ministries of the environment in many of the republics.
The final chapter sums up the decline and makes explicit a theme
implied in many of the chapters, namely that Central Asia took
a wrong turn in the early 1990s by rejecting perestroika dialogues
on issues such as the environment and the rule of law in favor
of nationalist ideologies and the embrace of the international
community, neither of which proved to be sufficient checks on
the self-serving behavior of local elites.
While the book is full of firsthand and thorough insight into
the decline of Central Asia during the 1990s, the volume sets
itself up to be judged at a higher level - as offering a unique
and comprehensive explanation for this decline. As such, the question
is whether the book is anything more than the sum of its excellent
parts. A table on the interrelations of the various types of capital
(p. 29) promises much, yet some might question whether it really
delivers. Theoretically this work may not be rigorous enough for
the macro-theorist who wants to see a few more testable hypotheses
and more added to the conceptual backbone of interrelated capital
stocks. On the other hand, those favoring an ethnographic approach
could be uncomfortable with reducing complex social processes
to a game-theory-driven understanding of social capital, or the
rather broad concept of organizational capital. Whether the concept
of comprehensive capital can provide a framework for further research
is unclear, yet I consider that the case made in this volume was
very stimulating and worthwhile.
[Contents]
Brian Glyn Williams, The Crimean Tatars: The Diaspora Experience
and the Forging of a Nation. Leiden: Brill, 2001. xxvii
+ 520 pp., maps, illustrations, bibliography, index. ISBN 9004121226,
$123.00.
Anna Oldfield Senarslan, Languages and Cultures of Asia
Ph.D. Program, University of Wisconsin, Madison, Wis., USA, aco wisc.edu
Brian Williams' ambitious history of the Crimean Tatars sweeps
from the prehistoric to the present day, offering a comprehensive
work that is both rich in detail and broad in scope. Drawing from
a wide variety of sources including travelers' accounts, recently
de-classified NKVD documents, interviews with surviving deportees,
Ottoman histories, Russian periodicals, Crimean Tatar ballads,
recent Western scholarship, and personal observations, Williams
creates a multi-textured account which combines ethno-genetic,
political, social, economic, and cultural histories. While guiding
the reader carefully through time in a series of 14 chapters,
Williams simultaneously constructs an interpretive/theoretical
layer, which he uses to explain and shape the phenomena he describes.
Consistently reminding the reader that he is working in a highly
contested and politicized arena, Williams challenges Russian,
Soviet, Tatar, and Western views alike, offering his own "fundamental
reinterpretation" (p. 42) of Crimean Tatar history.
The book is organized chronologically in clearly marked thematic
sections. Beginning with ethnic origins, Williams elucidates the
genesis of the various subgroups that constitute the Crimean Tatar
people, emphasizing their status as indigenous peoples of the
Crimean Peninsula. As he leads the reader through the periods
of the Crimean Khanate, Russian imperial rule, and diaspora in
the Ottoman Empire, Williams presents and discusses previous histories
and eyewitness accounts culled from letters, travelogues, periodicals,
etc., before constructing his own versions. Williams treats each
topic carefully and gives detailed attention to many areas seldom
explored in Western sources, such as the social and cultural life
of the Crimean Tatars before and during Russian colonial rule.
He also provides an excellent and often harrowing section on the
fate of those who emigrated to the Dobruca region, and an in depth-investigation
of the 1944 deportation and ensuing life of exile in Central Asia.
Ending with recent descriptions of new Tatar settlements, the
book will leave many readers concerned and eager to find out more
about the current state of affairs in the Crimea. Interviews with
survivors of the deportation, and important national leaders such
as Mustafa Jemilev together with the author's eyewitness accounts
greatly enliven the later sections.
In Chapters 5 and 6, which treat the period of Russian colonial
rule and the Tatar "migration" to the Ottoman Empire,
Williams elaborates on the central argument of his work, which
seeks to explain the construction of Crimean Tatar nationality
as a process of development from a pre-modern, Islamic identity
to a modern, secular-nationalist identity. As support for his
argument Williams highlights the two waves of migration to the
Ottoman Empire in the 18th and 19th centuries. Williams contends
that after Russian colonization "the Crimean shores, mountains,
and steppes had ceased to be considered their homeland in the
traditional Islamic sense and had been transformed into the Dar
al-Kufr (Abode of the Infidel)" (p. 108). While asserting
the reality of the sufferings of non-Russian nationalities under
Russian rule, Williams argues that the Crimean Tatars left the
Crimea because of factors inherent in their cultural belief system,
migrating to the Dar al-Islam (Abode of Islam) to preserve
their religious identity. Completing the argument in subsequent
chapters, Williams describes the transformation of the Crimean
Tatars into a people with a national territorial identity, attributing
this change to a combination of factors including the diaspora
experience, the influence of Western ideas, the impact of modernist
Ismail Gaspirali (Gasprinskii) and his followers, and, ironically,
the enthusiasm of early Soviet policies intended to encourage
national culture. Tracing the growth of a politicized sense of
national consciousness, Williams explains why this people, whom
he repeatedly characterizes as having "abandoned" their
lands, maintained an intense attachment to the Crimea as an idealized,
Edenic homeland while in diaspora, and braved many miseries to
return there fifty years after their forced deportation.
Williams crafts his argument well, building it carefully from
chapter to chapter. However, it is disappointing that this author,
who so effectively deconstructs other versions of history, does
not clearly explain the underpinnings of his own constructions.
Although he appears occasionally in the narrative as an observer,
Williams does not elaborate on his own position as an American
scholar, consider what may be his own biases, or explain the development
of his theoretical framework. Problematic concepts, such as the
assumed opposition of Islam to modernity, or the meanings of "pre-modernity"
and "modernity" in this context, are not sufficiently
discussed, and could be challenged by readers coming from other
disciplines where these terms are strongly contested. Although
unstated, Williams' biases seem to show up in the unfortunate
characterization of pre-modern Crimean Tatars as "apathetic
Muslim peasants" (p. 3), along with the repeated use of the
word "simple" to describe the non-literate peasant class.
These designations, which belie the well-known complexities of
orally transmitted culture, are contradicted by Williams' own
descriptions of the activity, creativity, and resourcefulness
of the Crimean Tatar villagers. At times, it seems that Williams
is so enthusiastic about his theoretical paradigm that he fails
to see places where it might be challenged by his own evidence.
For example, the destan ballads he uses to illustrate the
Tatars' voluntary abandonment of the Crimea, could be interpreted
to the contrary, as an indication that they were forced out from
a cherished place which they had already constructed as a homeland.
An awareness of his own interpretation as one of many possible
constructions, and a stronger consideration of possible alternative
interpretations, would add depth and maturity to Williams' work.
Any discussion of this book also needs to consider the issues
involved in representing living people, particularly those at
the mercy of an extreme power imbalance. The knowledge that policies
and decisions are currently being made that could affect the people
in question would call for extreme caution, particularly when
representing a small Muslim minority claiming land in a region
that is already being contested between Russia and Ukraine. While
Williams undertakes his work with clearly expressed compassion
and respect for the Crimean Tatar people, quotes such as "it
was only in the 20th century that the Crimean Tatars ceased to
abandon their ancestral land" (p. 2) could be used out of
context by those who aim to delegitimize the Crimean Tatars' current
settlements. At the very least, the use of the words "abandon,"
and "migration," which connote a voluntary action rather
than a reaction to an outside force, should be considered very
carefully along with other alternatives. In addition, his characterization
of a beleaguered Crimean Tatar leadership fraught with petty infighting
could have a negative effect on the vital fundraising work among
foreign governments and NGOs that these same leaders need to accomplish,
and seems an absolutely unnecessary addition to this work. This
is |