The region of Central and Eastern Europe is a complex one with an often forgotten history of multiculturalism and co-existence. Latest issue now available!

A conversation with Tomas Venclova, Lithuanian philosopher and writer. Interviewer: Nikodem Szczyglowski

The ability of Ukrainians to embrace their country’s diversity not only enriches their own understanding of the country but also allows them to showcase this richness to future visitors. As a nation that was itself historically subordinated to others, Ukrainians tend to be more empathetic and do not treat their own minorities with an imperialistic mindset.

Ukraine, as one of the republics of the former Soviet Union, inherited from it many stereotypical ideas that it has struggled with for decades. These include the idea that “more than 100 nationalities live on our territory,” therefore meaning that the population is inherently tolerant of others and otherness. In the Soviet times, nations and ethnic groups were mixed. Initially this was done by harsh methods of deportations of entire nations, such as Chechens, Ingush, Crimean Tatars, Germans of the Northern Black Sea coast and Volga region, or Poles from the former Polish national region, etc. 

All across Eastern Europe a decline in membership in long-established religions is being counterbalanced by rising interest in various alternative forms of religion and spirituality. The case and struggles of Romuva, a neo-pagan religious movement that claims that its traditions go back to the ancient period before the Christian conversion of Lithuania, illustrate the tensions between heritage, identity and modern religious norms.

In discussions on the development of democracy in post-Soviet societies in Eastern Europe, the role of religion is not often accorded great importance by political scientists. Yet, a more sociological perspective reveals that religion often serves as a driving factor in public sentiment, policy debates and political decisions. While the constitutions of Eastern European countries generally guarantee a generic freedom of religion, the question of how this freedom plays out for particular religious groups is far more complicated.

The Tatars of Poland remain one of the country’s most enduring ethnic minorities. Arriving in the area as early as the 14th century, this group has maintained its own distinctiveness while adapting to many wider Polish customs. This process has involved as much positive as negative developments.

Had you, 30 or 40 years ago, visited Kruszyniany, a village near the Belarusian border that is home to one of the two traditional Tatar settlements in Poland, you would have encountered the tranquil rhythm of community life centred around bayrams (a Turkic word for festivals or celebrations). In Muslim tradition, religious holidays are moments for families to gather in prayer at a mosque or a cemetery (mizar). To join their relatives in these celebrations, descendants of Tatars from all around Poland would flock to Kruszyniany. However, once the festivities were over, only a few Tatar families stayed in the village, enjoying its tranquillity and the slow pace of life.

Cemeteries, khachkars, churches and bakeries all point to the Armenian presence in Poland that stretches far back to medieval times. Though often overlooked, Armenian communities once played a vital role in trade, diplomacy and culture, traces of which remain in cities dotted around Poland. A new wave of Armenian migration is mixing with the “Old Polish Armenian” communities, adding a fresh influence to the enduring legacy of Armenian heritage in Poland.

Standing fast by Poland’s national “master narrative”, the country’s schools teach that the Polish nation, defined as all the speakers of the Polish language, is a millennium old. Yet, this pairing of the Polish nation and language dates back only to the late 19th century.

In Polish popular opinion, the view that the Polish nation consists of all the speakers of the Polish language is not controversial. Hence, the Polish speech community is unreflectively equated with the Polish nation. In turn, all the territories where speakers of Polish reside compactly are deemed to rightfully constitute the Polish nation-state. 

The legacy of the Byzantine Empire in the Balkans stretches back for centuries. Today’s politics should remember that the idea of Balkan states as homogenous entities is not natural. This is a relatively new idea that was realized through violence, population exchanges and expulsion at the turn of the 20th century. This process then continued well into the 1990s with the Yugoslav Wars.

The Byzantine Empire is the medieval successor to the ancient Roman Empire. Its origins are traditionally traced back to the time when the Roman Empire began to re-position its centre of power towards the Eastern Mediterranean, adopted Constantinople as its capital, adopted Greek (rather than Latin) as its primary language, and Christianity as its official religion. This all roughly happened in the period between the years 300 and 400.  

In the Balkans, multiculturalism has come to represent a defining feature and a cause of conflict simultaneously. The region, shaped by centuries of migrations, conquests, political upheavals and civil wars, with its complex mix of cultural diversity and political instability, serves as a global example of the failure of multicultural policies. Consequently, “Balkanism” and “Balkanization” have emerged as technical terms denoting conflict driven by identity-based fragmentation.

Multiculturalism refers to 1) the coexistence of diverse cultural, ethnic and religious communities within a society, and 2) the social and political theory that promotes cultural diversity. It uses legal and administrative logic that seeks to regulate the coexistence of different cultures within a polity, as well as social theory that addresses the plurality of perspectives on society, the state, science, education and culture itself. It is most commonly understood in two primary ways: descriptively, as a characterization of cultural diversity, and normatively, as a theory asserting that culture plays a significant role in politics and as a practice of granting culturally distinct groups (for instance, minorities) certain special rights. Ideally, it seeks to enable their full equality. In this sense, multiculturalism has captivated generations of academic authors, journalists, politicians, NGO workers and human rights advocates. 

Vojvodina and its capital Novi Sad had been a multicultural region that once enjoyed significant autonomy from Belgrade. Sadly, it became the consolation prize that Serbian nationalists received in exchange for an independent Kosovo. Anything that deviates from the narrow framework of Serbian nationalism is now considered separatism in Vojvodina.

The Serbian region of Vojvodina – once a civic, multicultural and economic phenomenon – is rapidly being destroyed politically. In February of last year, the region remembered 50 years since the adoption of the Constitution of the Socialist Autonomous Province of Vojvodina in the former Yugoslavia. At that time, Vojvodina had its own judicial, legislative and executive authorities. It had its own financial revenues. Like Kosovo, Vojvodina had almost all the elements of a republic, but it was still a part of Serbia. During the 1980s, Vojvodina was one of the most developed parts of socialist Yugoslavia in terms of GDP, after Slovenia and Croatia. 

Serbia has been witnessing the largest protests ever in its history in response to the tragic collapse of the main railway station’s roof in Novi Sad. The government’s response has not been sufficient to meet the protesters’ demands, as they continue to blockade universities and major roads. How long either side can maintain its position, however, remains to be seen.

University blockades and protests have been rattling Serbia for the past two months. Dissatisfied citizens, mostly students, are demanding accountability from the government for the tragedy in Novi Sad, which claimed 15 lives and left two others seriously injured. For the first time, the ruling party is facing immense public pressure. However, aside from the populist measures, threats and intimidation, it has offered no meaningful response to appease the masses calling for justice. 

Over the past year, Azerbaijan has increasingly cast itself as a liberating force for the overseas territories under French control. What can Azerbaijan gain from leading the charge against “French colonialism in Mayotte”, an island that could hardly be further from its territory?

Relations between France and Azerbaijan have soured dramatically, with a recent series of diplomatic escalations culminating in several controversial conferences organized by Baku. The conference on the “illegal French occupation of the island of Mayotte” is not the first conference they have organized that is dedicated to the subject of the French Overseas Departments and Regions. As early as May 2024, the Milli Majlis, the Azerbaijan National Assembly, hosted a conference entitled “French Polynesia’s Right to Decolonization: Problems and Prospects”.