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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 1, Number 1, Winter 2002.
Perspectives
Research Reports and Briefs
Reviews and Abstracts
Conferences and Lecture Series
Educational Resources and Developments
Editors - CESR Vol. 1 No. 1
Editor-in-Chief: Virginia Martin (Huntsville,
Ala., USA)
Section Editors:
Perspectives: Robert M. Cutler (Ottawa/Montreal,
Canada)
Research Reports and Briefs: Laura Adams
(Boston, Mass., USA), Jamilya Ukudeeva (Riverside, Calif.,
USA)
Reviews and Abstracts: Mikhail Degtiar (Tashkent,
Uzbekistan), Resul Yalcin (London, England)
Conferences and Lecture Series: Peter Finke
(Halle, Germany), Cengiz Surucu (Bloomington, Ind., USA)
Educational Resources and Developments: Daniel
C. Waugh (Seattle, Wash., USA)
Production Editor: John Schoeberlein (Cambridge,
Mass., USA)
Web Editor: John Schoeberlein (Cambridge,
Mass., USA)
[Contents]
Editorial Introduction
Virginia Martin, Editor-in-Chief, Central Eurasian Studies
Review, Assistant Professor, Department of History, University
of Alabama in Huntsville, USA, Tel.: +1/256-824-2572, martinvi email.uah.edu
Have you ever found yourself wishing you had known more about
the latest developments in your field a foreign scholar's innovative
approach, a fierce debate at a conference, the release of a new
body of statistics while you were still thinking through your
research results rather than after your conclusions had been committed
to print? All scholars potentially face this problem of timely
access to information, even in the age of the Internet. For scholars
of Central Eurasia, the considerable distance across regions,
cultures and scholarly traditions makes communication and access
to information even more of a challenge. Overcoming this problem
was one reason for founding the Central Eurasian Studies Society,
as John Schoeberlein writes in his "Perspectives" column,
and we consider the Central Eurasian Studies Review (CESR) to
be a crucial element of the work of CESS.
CESR was created with the rather modest assumption that however
accomplished we all may be in our scholarly pursuits, we are still
students and we will always have something to learn. In this light,
CESR is conceived as a vehicle for promoting dialogue and open
exchange of ideas and information. We have much to benefit from
the knowledge and experience of others working on related questions.
If a historian can improve her/his approach to research in Uzbekistan
from reading Adeeb Khalid; if a sociologist comes to a new understanding
of the dilemmas facing Azeri intellectuals from Liaman Rzayeva
and starts a discussion with her about it; if a numismatist is
inspired by one of the presentations described by Stuart Sears
that was given at the conference on medieval Iranian coinages;
if Shoshana Keller's experiences in the classroom inspire another
educator to follow her model - then CESR will have succeeded in
its most basic goals. I believe that if we take seriously our
roles as students and endeavor to be open-minded and learn from
others as much as we can, then scholarship will benefit enormously.
One of the goals of CESS as an organization is to promote higher
standards of scholarship. CESR can contribute to this effort indirectly,
in the ways that I have described above. But it is important to
note that CESR is not a peer-reviewed journal; the editors of
CESR do not accept or decline submissions based on a systematic
process of assessing the work's accuracy or unique scholarly contribution.
The disciplines within Central Eurasian studies are too diverse
to expect from our small editorial staff of volunteers the background
needed for such a task, nor do we have the organization required
to obtain outside reviews. But what CESR and its editors aspire
to do well is to seek out and present scholarship-in-the-making,
research-in-progress, classroom experiences, reviews of recent
publications, reactions to conference presentations - all with
the object of fostering communication among scholars.
This first issue of CESR is more than a bit of an experiment,
and as with every trial, there are things one learns and then
does differently the next time. We welcome your comments on how
we can improve. Some things we already know. For instance, we
had envisioned a larger publication, and so we know that we want
more contributions from the Central Eurasian studies community
throughout the world. We will work harder from our end to solicit
contributions from you, particularly to the Reviews and Abstracts
section, which turned out to be surprisingly thin in this issue.
However much we do to encourage your participation in this venture,
it remains clear that CESR cannot succeed unless there are willing
contributors to share ideas in this public way. We are also working
on expanding the possibilities of information-exchange in the
web-version of CESR. And the CESS Publications Committee, of which
I am Chair, is engaged in an on-going discussion about other types
of publications that can bring recognition and strength to CESS
in ways that can supplement and complement CESR.
For now, I encourage you to read and enjoy this first issue.
The five sections of CESR should offer something for everyone.
As you are reading, please think of ways that you can contribute
your ideas and experiences to future issues. Beyond submitting
articles to the Review, we are also in need of volunteers to work
behind the scenes, both on CESR and for the organization more
generally. In particular, we seek "correspondents" who
will track research, publications, events and personages in their
fields and/or their countries. Please see the CESS website for
more information on this important role. Also, CESS is embarking
on an important initiative to coordinate development of library
collections so that Central Eurasian studies does not remain marginalized
and underfunded. Chris Murphy of the Library of Congress describes
the project, and the participation he needs from you, in his piece
in the Perspectives section. Finally, you are encouraged to share
your research in a more traditional and time-honored way: at the
CESS Annual Conference, which will be held 17-20 October 2002
in Madison, Wisconsin. The Call for Papers included in this issue
provides instructions and deadlines.
I would like to acknowledge the amazing collaborative effort
that has resulted in this first issue of CESR. The CESS Publications
Committee, composed only of volunteers, has worked since last
spring on this project. Without a central editorial office, we
have communicated almost entirely via email. If this small group
effort is any indication of the type of open communication and
information exchange that CESS was founded to encourage, then
our organization has a bright future indeed. And you are welcomed
to participate in it!
[Contents]
Perspectives
Setting the Stakes of a New Society
John Schoeberlein, President, Central Eurasian Studies
Society and Director, Harvard Forum for Central Asian Studies,
1737 Cambridge St., Cambridge, MA 02138, USA, Fax: +1/617-495-8319,
schoeber fas.harvard.edu
Were we living in the days of the vast empires of Chinggis Khan
or Tamerlane, when political unity was imposed over a domain extending
across much of Eurasia from China to Eastern Europe and Asia Minor,
perhaps no one would doubt the sense in founding a Central Eurasian
Studies Society. Politics, after all, determines how many people
think we should carve up the world for scholarship. Today, too,
perhaps the arguments might seem more compelling as we follow
the war in Afghanistan, which could send waves of instability
outward across the political terrain of Central Eurasia.
I am not among those who hope for things to get worse so that
others will recognize the importance of this region. Were we working
in the 13th century, even if there had not been the world largest
empire in this region, I think there would still have been enough
for our field of scholarship to explore in the culture reflected
in Chinggis Khan's yurt, or in the spread of Mongol terms and
military institutions all across Eurasia, or in the comparative
economy of Chinese, Muslim and Russian cities after nomadic conquest.
There need not have been an empire at stake. And building a strong
scholarly community will not hinge on the journalists and policy-makers
gathering to watch the region go up in flames.
I believe that the historical moment at which we have arrived
which has allowed the Central Eurasian Studies Society to embark
on its trajectory is propitious for the success of its endeavor
in much deeper and more positive ways. This is the point which
I will elaborate in this short survey of the Central Eurasian
Studies Society as we stake out our goals and foundation. Those
goals are two-fold: we want to improve communication among scholars
as well as consumers of scholarly research, and we want to foster
higher standards of scholarship. Before elaborating our goals,
I should first define Central Eurasia, as we use this term, and
then I will explain why a new society is needed to achieve these
goals.
What is Central Eurasia?
While definitional discussions are often polemical and dogmatic,
my purpose here and I think our purpose in the Society is to define
a domain in which scholars will find it useful to communicate
among themselves. Put another way, we seek to specify the geography
that begs for close comparisons and common understanding. Any
region and especially one which is situated amidst so many others,
as Central Eurasia is requires connections and comparisons in
many directions.
Our definition of Central Eurasia is anything but dogmatic. In
my time as President of the Central Eurasian Studies Society,
I have received dozens of queries from scholars of regions which
are treated as marginal to other area studies domains, asking
whether they fit the definition of Central Eurasia: Tungusic and
Turkic peoples of Siberia, Uralic peoples of the Volga Basin,
Tibet, Caucasian Muslim and Christian peoples, Muslims of Eastern
Europe. My answer has been: If you can find a good home for yourself
among scholars of Central Eurasia, we will try to accommodate
you. Part of what motivates these questions, I believe, is the
sense that study of Russia is too often assumed to be study of
Moscow, study of China has little room for non-Han Chinese peoples,
study of the Islamic World has lost touch with what used to be
an "Islamic heartland" or "Christian outposts,"
but now is treated only as lands of historically preserved anomalies.
The unifying characteristics of Central Eurasia are not universal,
but no region is universally unified. The things which unite large
parts of Central Eurasia are significant: the historical interface
between nomads and settled peoples; the lands where Turkic, Iranian,
Caucasian, Mongolian, Tungusic and Tibetan peoples have proliferated;
the Inner Asian territories of Islam, Buddhism and Shamanism;
and the countries which have emerged with new independent significance
and accompanying agendas of nation-building following the collapse
of the Soviet Union. These unifying characteristics are in the
domains of language, religion, life-ways, and culture, as well
as of course, histories of domination, geographic proximity and
ensuing economic links.
There is no question but that this is a region united by historical
and cultural links, even if there has not been a strong consensus
on what to call the region. We have chosen the term "Central
Eurasia", while others have used "Central Asia",
"Inner Asia", "Inner Eurasia", and other variations
across other languages all meant to encompass more or less the
same domain. The term "Central Eurasia" has its negative
as well as positive points. Perhaps the most important positive
is precisely that it is a neologism which can be defined as needed,
whereas "Inner Asia" is often understood not to include
regions as far west as the Caucasus, "Central Asia"
is sometimes construed very narrowly to include only the lands
surrounding the Gobi Desert or only the former Soviet republics
between the Tien Shan-Pamir Mountains and the Caspian Sea, etc.
Without wishing to displace other terms or champion one interpretation,
we have chosen "Central Eurasia" as it seems to signify
what we mean, for most people, better than other terms.
So what exactly does it signify? An inexact effort to stake out
this term would include lands from the Iranian Plateau, the Black
Sea, and the Volga Basin through Afghanistan, Southern Siberia,
and the Himalayas to Muslim and Manchu regions of China and the
Mongol lands. Scholars who feels that their object of study is
marginal in this circumscription are welcome to help us build
a society in which their own regions are strongly represented.
Ultimately, all useful definitions will be historically contingent
the shape of the world did change enduringly, for example,
when Chinggis Khan's armies conquered much of the known world,
and again when Communist governments sought isolation from lands
beyond their borders. We must take account of the overlapping
categories that make up Central Eurasia in historically appropriate
ways. Under this rubric, scholars can gather, because it provides
terms of commonality and a field of comparison which are meaningful
for their particular studies.
Why Form a New Society?
A society strange as it may seem to remind us is a social entity.
The lack of a society implies the absence of social interactions,
which are essential for scholarship. Communication has suffered
in the field of Central Eurasian studies for several reasons,
including scholarly fragmentations, political rifts and lack of
a unifying medium for communication, and these factors have served
as obstacles to forming a society for the study of the Central
Eurasian region.
Central Eurasia has seldom been treated as a field of scholarship
in its own right. Parts of Central Eurasia have been attached
to other area studies domains, no matter how weak the connections
or how low the priority they receive in that context. For example,
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. Scholars
of China, Japan and Korea typically see little of interest in
Mongolia, Tibet and Turkistan, though these regions are attached
in North American scholarship to "(East) Asian Studies",
at the same time as being largely ignored in this context. When
I decided I would focus my anthropological research on the area
surrounding the Tien Shan-Pamir Mountains in the early 1980s,
I came to understand that depending on which way I turned or really,
where chance events would allow me to do research I would be expected
to find a home among one of three virtually non-overlapping communities
of scholars: Islamic/South Asian studies, East Asian studies or
Soviet studies. Divided between these area studies domains, what
is central to Central Eurasia was treated as peripheral to everything
else.
Furthermore, because Central Eurasian scholarship has been divided
and peripheralized, it has been impossible to develop the critical
mass that is essential for strong scholarship. When a historian
of Daghestan or Turkistan publishes before a Russian studies audience,
there is simply unlikely to be the depth of feedback that would
prompt healthy critical exchange and the ultimate improvement
of scholarship. I've heard many scholars of Central Eurasia complain
that at most of the conferences they would have the occasion to
attend, they have to spend the first half of their presentation
explaining where their topic is situated and what it is all about.
Anthropologists of Central Eurasia are hard pressed to find a
body of literature on which to teach a course on the subject.
Few theoretical arguments have been elaborated in a developed
scholarly exchange focused on this region, which is a tremendous
obstacle to the development of social sciences with a focus on
this part of the world.
Further fragmentation of the scholarly community stemmed from
political cleavages. The tightly closed political systems of the
Soviet Union and China imposed severe isolation on scholars of
this region working in those countries. Constraints of politics
and poverty limited the development of scholarship in Afghanistan
and Iran, both within the countries and in cooperation with scholarship
in other countries. Even in the countries with better resources
and fewer political constraints, scholarship developed in enclaves
that sometimes had limited interaction with one another in Europe,
North America, Japan. Some of these barriers have come down now
with the end of the Cold War and the opening of China. But new
constraints limit linkages for example, what was once a quite
unified scholarly domain in the Soviet Union has now fragmented
into as many independent countries, between which scholarly exchanges
have been reduced to very near nil.
The fact that Central Eurasia has not been a unified political
space has practical, linguistic implications for the study of
the region. We can compare our situation with Latin American studies:
when one knows Spanish, one can exchange ideas with virtually
the entire community of Latin Americanists. Africa is not unified
by a single language, but it is very nearly unified by the history
of domination by three countries, and English and French enable
one to engage scholarship across the region. But the information
space of Central Eurasia is divided among Russian, Chinese, Turkic
and Persian, plus a plethora of more localized languages. Despite
the dreams of "pan-Turkists" and the dwindling proponents
of Russian as a world language, there is no more plausible lingua
franca for regional scholarship than the entirely exogenous
English language, in which far too few scholars in the region
are proficient.
Linguistic fragmentation does more than inhibit information exchange:
it complicates the development of scholarly resources for the
study of the region. There are very few satisfactory introductory
texts for students to read. Only in the last decade have teaching
materials in English begun to be available for some of the main
Central Eurasian languages, but in most cases we cannot point
to adequate textbooks, grammars, readers and dictionaries. This,
in spite of the fact that for scholars to be well trained in many
fields, they must have a knowledge of at least two or three difficult
languages. There is a lack of key reference resources such as
encyclopedias and bibliographies. There are few translations of
major contributions to culture or scholarship. There are few institutions
where a student can get a comprehensive foundation in the study
of any part of Central Eurasia. Fewer still that are prepared
to teach many of the key languages.
Critics and skeptics of our efforts to build a community and
improve scholarship may argue that all of these obstacles have
hindered previous efforts to establish societies seeking to represent
scholarship on Eurasia. A century ago, the Royal Central Asian
Society was founded in Britain, but by the 1970s the focus was
almost completely lost and the society was reorganized as the
Royal Society for Asian Affairs. The Central Asian Studies Society
in London has for some decades produced an important journal Central
Asian Survey but appears not to have a membership. Two North
American societies appeared in the 1980s, the Association for
the Advancement of Central Asian Research (AACAR) and the Association
for Central Asian Studies (ACAS), perhaps in part because they
occupied the same space, both organizations lost momentum before
long and have appeared largely or entirely lifeless for most of
the last decade (with the important exception of the Journal
of Central Asian Studies, which isstill associated with AACAR).
More hope might be pinned on the European Society for Central
Asian Studies, which has successfully organized biannual conferences
for a decade, though the life of this organization seems confined
to the conferences and the ensuing conference volumes.
Where CESS Can Make Its Mark
Given the obstacles, what can a new society do that others could
not? The answer is: our Society can put its energy into building
the infrastructure the community, the institutions, the resources
lacking in the past. When this infrastructure is in place, it
can help foster higher standards of scholarship. These are the
goals of CESS.
Two years ago, a group of people motivated by both frustration
at the lack of development of this field and by inspiration that
we have a real opportunity now began to lay the foundation for
the Central Eurasian Studies Society. The moment of conception
was a meeting at the University of Wisconsin organized by Uli
Schamiloglu, the Fourth Annual Workshop on Central Asian Studies.
Here, an informal "temporary executive committee" was
formed to get the ball rolling. I remember Marianne Kamp, who
was drafted as chair and main motivator of the committee, saying
that at the end of a year, we'll know whether it is going to fly.
Thanks to her great ability to set reachable goals and to elicit
the energy and focus in others needed to meet them, it is flying.
In fall 2000, we held our first annual conference. In winter
2001, we held the first elections, in which the membership elected
a dedicated and diverse board. In the time since I was elected
as President, our focus has been on laying the institutional foundation
and building two key activities: the annual conference (under
Uli Schamiloglu and Steve Sabol's leadership) and the publication,
the Central Eurasian Studies Review, with Virginia Martin as Editor-in-Chief
leading a strong committee of section editors and correspondents.
From the outset, the CESS initiative has had grand ambitions
but modest goals. Given that for the foreseeable future, we will
have to rely exclusively on volunteer effort, we must methodically
build our capacity to do great things. We must prove to our members
that it is worth their support and active engagement. In time,
we can hope to unite the lion's share of scholars in North America
and worldwide who focus on Central Eurasia to become the conference
that all feel drawn to attend and the periodical that all can
benefit from reading. But for now, I am greatly heartened by the
tremendous interest and support we have received from a rapidly
growing membership already over 700 members, the majority in North
America, and many also in other parts of the world, in over 50
countries, including all of the countries of Central Eurasia.
There was a deliberate decision to focus on building our foundation
in North America at the same time as welcoming participation of
scholars throughout the world. Eventually, we will have the capacity
to organize more activities in other parts of the world, but for
now we are setting our stakes on building a solid core, to avoid
becoming spread too thin.
As an area studies society, we are determined to encompass all
fields of humanities and social science scholarship. Where area
studies organizations are often dominated by particularists and
thus by historians, philologists, and scholars of culture, we
feel that the support of area studies would be missing an important
purpose if it did not also build a base for the grounded knowledge
of generalizers, such as anthropologists, political scientists
and comparative historians. While we are concerned about scholarship
at the cutting edge of international research at the top rank
institutions, we are also anxious to help scholars in all parts
of the world to partake of the process of building high international
scholarly standards.
In this goal we will build on the momentum growing in the field
since the early 1990s, when it suddenly became imaginable for
many to devote themselves to the study of the newly opening countries.
It may be that more dissertations were written in North America
on Central Eurasian politics in the decade of the 1990s than in
all time previously. In all disciplines, there was a tremendous
influx of young blood into Central Eurasian studies, and now a
number of these people are finding faculty positions in North
American universities. The rise of the region in Europe, by comparison,
has been less precipitous, and in Central Eurasia itself, scholarship
has suffered greatly from the loss of state patronage. Yet overall
the field is gaining considerable momentum.
A few people have asked what their CESS membership can offer
them, and it is a reasonable question, but more people have been
asking what their volunteer efforts can contribute to our Society.
This is our greatest resource. And our most urgent task is to
develop the capacity to make good use of all the energy and creativity
that our members have to offer.
CESS as a Cyber-Society
With all that is dividing us in terms of geography, practical
constraints and divergent scholarly traditions, we have some key
tools that enable us to build a community across the disparate
terrain of Central Eurasian studies. It was a wonderful thing
to get together at the CESS Second Annual Conference this past
October with many scholars whom I had never met, but had known
of for years. Nothing can fully replace face-to-face familiarity
and the opportunity for exchange "in true life."
But it has been equally wonderful to see how much we can build
through interactions via electronic connections. In working with
CESS, I have developed relations of tremendous respect and admiration
with people whom I've met either never, or only once or twice
in passing. After our first Board was in place following last
winter's elections, we quickly composed a set of committees to
further our key activities. And their work has proceeded with
great energy, primarily through the exchange of views and information
via e-mail. Were we reliant on traditional communications, we
would have had so much less substantive exchange with our members,
because our time and capacity would have been exhausted by stuffing
envelopes and licking stamps.
Our goals, meanwhile, are focused on the concrete. I am very
grateful for the conference and its concrete interactions, and
it is one of our key priorities to strengthen this event so that
as many people as possible are able and inclined to attend. Though
we will make our publications available via the world wide web,
we will also put great weight on producing paper editions, as
we recognize that libraries, readers, and tenure granting departments
still work that way.
Another dimension of the new shape of the world under the influence
of the internet was manifest when we received literally hundreds
of notes expressing dismay and concern following the September
11 attacks in the U.S. Our members and supporters all over the
world including some countries seriously devastated by war such
as Afghanistan, Chechnya and Tajikistan showed that there is a
powerfully connected community in our Central Eurasian Studies
Society, facilitated by this new ease and immediacy of communication
across the globe.
A Better World at Stake
Another thing that has been driven home to many of us by the
events following the September 11 terrorist attacks is that our
Society has urgent responsibility to communicate its knowledge
to the world. I had no suspicion when I visited Uzbekistan the
first time nearly two decades ago or even when I was there this
past summer that this would be a place where my country's troops
might operate. How many of those soldiers even knew last summer
that there was a country called Uzbekistan? How many of the policy-makers
and pundits who are devising plans for the future of Afghanistan
knew names like Massoud, Mullah Omar and Hamid Karzai a few months
ago? Currently, without the world knowing Central Eurasia, whole
cities are being annihilated in Chechnya, Armenia is being virtually
depopulated of youth, Uyghurs of Xinjiang are being drowned in
an ocean of Chinese and responding with violence, bombs are falling
in Abkhazia. These events are only the starkest demonstration
that there is a need to better understand Central Eurasia for
the sake of the world.
And it is not only violence and tragedy which should render this
region worthy of our world's attention. Each of us has our own
store of rich experiences from our engagement with the cultures
and peoples of Central Eurasia, whose real human aspirations,
strivings and accomplishments are there to be told to the world.
[Contents]
Libraries and CESS
Chris Murphy, Turkish Area Specialist, Library of Congress,
Washington, DC, USA, Tel.: +1/2027075676, cmur loc.gov
As the field of Central Eurasian studies grows over the next
few years, CESS, as an organization representing the interests
of the individuals and institutions working in this field, needs
to consider issues confronting the libraries and librarians supporting
our research. Other area studies associations, e.g., the American
Association for the Advancement of Slavic Studies (AAASS) or the
Middle East Studies Association (MESA), have approached libraries
in their fields by either creating a standing committee of the
organization (AAASS) or by establishing an affiliated association
(MESA). While either of these approaches is workable, each has
had the same fundamental problem: the librarians have tended to
talk only to themselves. This is reflected by the fact that librarians
constantly make decisions critical to the support of research
based on their own inter-librarian discussions with little input
from scholars working in the field. On the other hand, scholars
often only approach libraries and librarians when the scholar
needs a specific item. This ad hoc way of doing business has led
to a further problem: the librarians active in an association
often concentrate on "library issues" such as cataloging,
and to a greater or lesser extent ignore the most important role
of librarianship, that is, collection development. I describe
this situation from personal experience, having served as President
of the Middle East Librarians Association, and having spent five
years in a university library as a Near East Specialist.
CESS, now at the beginning of its existence, is moving to correct
this flawed approach. We are establishing a standing Library Committee
to concentrate on libraries and library issues in the field of
Central Eurasian studies. I have agreed to chair the committee
and am hopeful that a scholar who is not a librarian will volunteer
to become co-chair of the committee. While it is necessary for
librarians to be involved in this committee, including in leadership
roles, it is even more important that active scholars always be
part of the committee's work. The presence of working scholars
will keep the committee focused on what should be our most important
library goal at this point in this field's development, namely,
the building and development of collections supporting our research.
I am therefore seeking volunteers, both librarians and active
scholars, to serve on this new committee. Ideally, the committee
will be composed of no more than six individuals, with at least
two scholars who are not librarians and one graduate student as
members.
Once the committee is fully established it will immediately undertake
two activities, both of which are designed to focus the committee's
attention on questions of collection development. First, the committee
will read and discuss the Association of Research Libraries report
on the acquisition of foreign materials, which was published about
five years ago. This document gives the most recent "photograph"
of area studies collection activities at major research libraries
in North America. Secondly, the committee will create a questionnaire
eliciting information about collection development at the libraries
serving our field and at other major research libraries in North
America. This will provide specific information that will allow
the committee to begin to make recommendations for activities
which will be helpful to the field. At the same time every effort
will be made to get librarians and scholars in our field to become
involved in the work of the Library Committee of CESS.
Volunteers are asked to contact me by the end of February at
my e-mail address, cmur loc.gov,
or by telephone at +1/202-707-5676.
[Contents]
Research Reports and Briefs
Reports
Migrant Labor, Labor Rights, and the Eurasian Economic Community
Roza Zhalimbetova, Senior Counselor, Social-Labor Department,
Eurasian Economic Community, Kazakhstan, Tel.: +7(3272)65-01-89,
+7(3272)62-48-97, intecom kaznet.kz,
zhalimbetova nursat.kz,
and Gregory Gleason, Professor of Political Science and
Public Administration, University of New Mexico, USA, Tel.: +1/505-277-7391,
Fax: +1/505-277-3161, gleasong unm.edu,
http://www.unm.edu/~gleasong
One of the most significant public policy consequences of the
disintegration of the USSR was the disruption of the single labor
market. During the period 1992-2000 the governments of the former
Soviet countries adopted national legislation designed to protect
their newly established national interests through the regulation
of domestic labor markets with respect to movement, health and
safety, and education and training. During this same period, pay
differentials among the former Soviet countries and high unemployment
in some regions gave rise to substantial inter-regional and inter-state
labor migration. However, the absence of a unified approach to
labor markets among the post-Soviet countries has limited the
governments' capacity to address collectively such urgent public
policy problems as labor exploitation, inadequate health and safety
protections for migrant labor, and socially destructive practices
such as trafficking in women and children.
Little systematic, empirical research has been conducted by joint
Eurasian and North American researchers on the scale and magnitude
of labor movements within the Eurasian Economic Community. To
address these lacunae in the literature, we have initiated a research
project designed to establish the scope of labor movements within
Eurasia with special reference to migrants. We have used primarily
government documents and data for the initial survey. At a later
point, with the help of other researchers, we hope to collect
primary data through a sampling process. We are anxious to enlist
other researchers in this effort. We hope to develop an analytical
base that will be policy relevant and may lead to improvement
in government policy toward migration throughout the Eurasian
region. Our research has been facilitated by the focus on migratory
policies that has been adopted by the newly formed Eurasian Economic
Community.
In October 2000 the Presidents of Belarus, the Republic of Kazakhstan,
the Kyrgyz Republic, the Russian Federation and the Republic of
Tajikistan signed the "Treaty on Establishment of the Eurasian
Economic Community."[1] The organization is sometimes popularly
referred to as the EAEC. The treaty was ratified by the parliaments
of the member states and came into effect in May 2001 (Isingarin
2000, 2001). The basic goal of the Eurasian Economic Community
is to bring to fruition the framework for Eurasian integration
that began with earlier interstate treaties and agreements such
as the Customs Union Agreement (1994). Attaining the goals of
integration, inter-state coordination and policy harmonization
requires action of the EAEC member states regarding the establishment
of a single labor market and labor migration policy. The creation
of a single labor market includes the exchange and joint use of
labor throughout the economic space of the EAEC member states.
To achieve this goal the EAEC has developed a general "Conceptual
Framework of the EAEC Labor Market" to be used as a model
for national policy and legislation. The framework consists of
four interrelated objectives, each with its own set of sub-goals.
These are described in the "Program for the Effective Use
of Labor Potential within the Sovereign State;" the "Program
of Formation of Mutually Supporting Inter-state Relations in the
Social-Labor Sphere;" the "Program of Equalization of
the Social-Labor Conditions of Citizens of the Member States of
the Customs Union;" and the "Program for Effective Use
of Labor Potential."
One of the significant aspects of the general labor market is
inter-regional and inter-state worker migration. This includes
such phenomena as contract workers, seasonal workers, and commercial
periodic travel (generally referred to as "shop-tours").
These types of labor-related movement have developed into unprecedented
forms and levels of what is essentially labor-related migration.
An adequate legal framework, however, is not in place to provide
regulatory authorities and protections for such migration.
A number of urgent problems have emerged with respect to labor
migration. In many cases the foreign migrants represent competitors
in domestic national labor markets, contributing in some cases
to inter-group rivalries or tensions. This phenomenon also can
lead to a situation in which economic enterprises have an incentive
to use low-paid foreign migrant labor rather than relatively higher
priced domestic labor. The enterprises may thereby also lose the
motivation for making improvements in labor conditions.
Recently the subject of "near-border migration" has
received a great deal of treatment. A great deal of this form
of migration has occurred, for example, between the neighboring
oblasts of Russia and Ukraine, and Russia and China. The question
of near-border labor migration from China is also highly relevant
for Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan. The basic occupational categories
of near-border labor migration include retail trade and, to a
lesser extent, construction, industry, and agriculture. Near-border
labor migration allows those inhabiting the near-border regions
to use the advantages of their position, given that near the border
the selection of work is usually greater and the differential
in wages is often substantial.
It is important to note that the forms of labor migration that
have emerged do not necessarily promote effective labor use for
the EAEC as a whole nor provide optimal conditions for the migrant
laborers themselves. The measures that have been implemented in
the EAEC have been directed for the most part at protecting the
national labor markets through the imposition of quotas, licensing,
citizenship requirements for work permits and so on. These measures
have often had detrimental effects on the work conditions for
migrant workers themselves.
To remedy some of the public policy problems of labor migration
a policy framework has been developed in the framework document
"On Labor Migration and Social Protections for Migrant-Workers."
The goal of this framework is to establish the basic lines of
cooperation among the countries of the EAEC in the sphere of labor
activity and social protection of migrant workers. This framework
refers to the workers who have permanent residence in one EAEC
member state but are working in another state. The framework also
refers to members of the families of such workers.
One of the more severe problems of the labor market in the Community
states has to do with the labor market for the more vulnerable
social groups of the population, in particular women, youth, and
pension-age or near pension-age workers. Women made up 53-57 percent
of those seeking work through employment agencies at the end of
1999 in Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan, and 60-69 percent in Belarus,
Kazakhstan, and Russia. The proportion of young people (up to
age 30) among the unemployed in 1999 varied from 30 to 36 percent
in Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan and Russia and from 60 to 62 percent
in Tajikistan and Uzbekistan.
In the development of the national labor markets discriminatory
tendencies have developed with respect to women as a result of
their declining workplace competitiveness. Women's labor tends
to be increasingly concentrated in those professions and sectors
that are especially notorious for misuse and exploitation. Trafficking
in women has increasingly come under the control of international
organized crime. The OSCE has noted the "close connection
between the trafficking in people and the countries of transitional
economies" and the "deteriorating position of women
and the large level of female unemployment" (Organization
for Security and Cooperation in Europe 1999). The concentration
of women in the traditional sectors of the economy and in relatively
low paid work leads to the maintenance and even increase in differential
pay of men's and women's labor. In some branches of the economy
the average pay of women is a third lower that the average pay
of men (Republic of Kazakhstan 1997: 65).
The vulnerability of workers to fluctuations in labor market
demand is represented in the duration of unemployment periods.
The average duration of unemployment in Belarus in 1998 was 6.9
months and in 1999 it was 7.3 months. Comparable figures for Kazakhstan
were 7.4 months and 6.0 months; for Kyrgyzstan, 9.4 months and
8.2 months; for Russia, 7.6 and 6.6 months and for Tajikistan,
5.5 and 3.8 months (Kazakhstan i strany SNG 2000: 34).
It is ironic that at the same time as there is a flow of labor
resources out of the countries of the EAEC there is also a process
of attraction of foreign labor. The idea of establishing quotas
for foreign workers has been considered with the goal in mind
of protecting the internal labor markets. Thus, in Kazakhstan
in 2001 it is anticipated that the influx of foreign labor will
be contained at the level of 10,500 people. At the present time
a draft version of new "Rules on the Order of Quotas, Conditions,
and System of Approvals" has been developed and it is planned
that this will be used to regulate foreign labor in the near future
in Kazakhstan. According to this plan, the state national executive
agencies will issue approvals regarding the overall number of
workers that can receive licenses and, within these general figures,
the local organs will have authority regarding each specific worker
(Panorama 2001: 1).
At the present time, the majority of EAEC citizens who work abroad
do so without protection of any inter-state agreement. There simply
are no laws that can protect their interests. At some point, each
country that is interested in sending workers to work abroad should
take upon itself the solution of this problem. Foreign labor migration
necessitates, above all, the lessening of social tensions that
take place as a result of the unemployment of the economically
active population. In view of the absence of legal sources of
income and realistic economic conditions for the improvement of
the standard of living through employment in one or another of
the countries of the Community, it is necessary to develop and
implement a policy for export of labor abroad.
The system of government measures for the regulation of foreign
labor migration should consist of at least the following elements:
creation of a legal and regulatory framework; the organization
of a system of services for promoting sending labor abroad; and
the development and adoption of an inter-state agreement for sending
workers to work abroad and hiring citizens of the Community for
seasonal labor.
Overall, the general labor market of the member states of the
EAEC should support the citizens in free movement throughout the
territory of these states in looking for work, in providing social
guarantees of citizens in work conditions, in guaranteeing equal
conditions of pay, safety, medicine and insurance, and in providing
educational and other pertinent benefits. The seriousness of the
social problems and the key role that labor markets play in successful
economic integration strategies suggests that much more empirical
research needs to be done on the subject of labor migration in
the former Soviet states.
Notes
[1] The EAEC is popularly referred to in
the Russian language as the "EvAzEs". For background
on the EAEC, see Galina Islamova, "Eurasian Economic Community:
Purposes, Challenges and Prospects." Central Asia and
the Caucasus, 7 (1), 2001.
References
Islamova, Galina
2001 "Eurasian economic community:
purposes, challenges, and prospects." Central Asia and
the Caucasus, 7 (1). Lulea, Sweden.
Isingarin, Nigmatzhan
2000 "Kazakhstaninitsiator
integratsionnykh protsessov [Kazakhstan: initiator of integration
processes]," Kazakhstanskaia pravda, 31 May 2000,
p. 2.
2001 Personal Interview, July 1,
2001.
Kazakhstan Government Document
1997 Otchet o polozhenii zhenshchin,
Respublika Kazakhstan [Report on women, Republic of Kazakhstan],
1997, p. 65.
Kazakhstan i strany SNG
2000 No. 1, p. 34.
Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe
1999 Trafficking in Human Beings:
Implications for the OSCE. OSCE, Office for Democratic Institutions
and Human Rights. September 1999.
Panorama
2001 Almaty, 30 March 2001, p.
1.
[Contents]
Azerbaijani Intellectuals during the Transition
Liaman (Leman) Rzayeva, Ph.D. student, Department of Sociology,
Middle East Technical University, Ankara, Turkey, liaman_r hotmail.com
Throughout the history of Azerbaijan, the entry and spread of
Western ideas, the "channels of Westernization" as we
would call them, seem to be a determining factor for various changes.
They were also important for the development of the defining features
and functions of Azeri intellectuals. In this report, I will briefly
summarize the history of Azerbaijani intellectuals and then report
on my own research which examines the contemporary attitudes of
Azerbaijani intellectuals.
Before colonization by Tsarist Russia, the territory of Azerbaijan
was divided into small feudal states, khanligs, who often
fought with each other. With Russian conquest, the West entered
into Azerbaijan and introduced modernization, industrialization,
secularization, vernacularizing print media, and a standardized
education system, even in the periphery. The newly introduced
values and concepts were very different from the ones prevailing
among the indigenous population. This gave rise to the first Azeri
intelligentsia and determined its character: well educated, bound
by common education, alien to its people, agitated by various
issues, and not always understood by its people. Intellectuals
viewed their people as backward and tried to help them with tools
imported from Western terminology. Soon afterward, Azerbaijan
experienced a period of independence, 1918-1920, the period of
the Azerbaijan Democratic Republic. The ADR was headed mainly
by the Tsarist colonial intelligentsia and was too short-lived
to establish its own concepts and notions. Later, Azerbaijan was
occupied by the Red Army and was integrated into the Soviet Union,
which has always been seen as a continuation of Tsarist Russia,
especially in respect to the non-Russian minorities.
The Soviet Union re-arranged the administrative boundaries on
the basis of the idea of a nation as an entity with its own territory,
language and culture. The administrative rearrangement was followed
by cutting off all relations with the outside world. Script reforms
were part of this policy. Together with this, all members of the
pre-revolutionary intelligentsia were silenced. The aim was to
create a new Soviet identity: Russian speaking, passive, and submissive.
The same features applied to the intelligentsia. During the Soviet
regime the West still entered into Azerbaijan through Russia,
but this time it was Soviet Russia. Modernization policies, including
industrialization, secularization, the spread of standardized
education and Russification continued, although this time they
had a socialist pitch in them. A new Soviet intelligentsia was
created that had features closer to the Gramscian definition (Gramsci
1971).
Despite all the efforts, another perception of intellectualism
among the Azeri intellectuals persisted. This perception was closer
to Said's "vocation of representing" (1990) and Burbank's
"culture of entitlement" (1996), which was common among
pre-revolutionary intellectuals with their roots in the traditions
of Western intellectualism. It was these features that allowed
an explosion of intellectual activities in the late 1980's and
early 1990's. But later the voices of intellectuals slowed down.
Why? Was it due to the sharply deteriorating economic conditions,
which first hit the intellectuals? Or was it due to a disappointment
in the political regime? These are the reasons mentioned by the
intellectuals themselves. Pre-revolutionary Azeri intellectuals
did not work in very democratic and economically prosperous conditions.
Their intellectual efforts often cost them years of prison, exile,
repudiation, etc. Was it then a continuation of the Soviet habit
of conformism and neutrality? Even though at first sight this
seems to be the answer, the situation is not so simple.
The research I will briefly report on here was performed in partial
fulfillment of the requirements for the Masters degree in the
Sociology Department of the Middle East Technical University,
Ankara, Turkey. The goal of my research is to identify the specific
features of Azeri intellectuals, or ziyali, to understand
their role during the transition to independence, and to investigate
how they perceive the changes in Azerbaijan in the last decades,
particularly in the spheres of language and education. As I began
to work on this research project, I consulted with Azerbaijani
citizens living in Turkey, where I also lived, and I got a picture
of two types of Azerbaijani intellectuals: the scientist and the
activist. I decided to study both of these types and reviewed
the international literature on intellectuals. Then I prepared
a questionnaire for semi-structured in-depth interviews, first
conducting a pilot study with Azerbaijani professors living and
working in Turkey. The fieldwork was conducted in Baku, Azerbaijan,
in October-November 2000. Using a snowball-sampling technique,
I asked people to refer me to other persons who would fit the
scientist and activist categories I was looking for. Meanwhile,
I followed all the main governmental and oppositional newspapers
and TV channels, and met with relatives, friends and neighbors.
I shared with them my research interests and tried to get opinions
of as many people as possible.
I conducted in-depth, semi-structured interviews with thirty
respondents, half of which were men and half women. Most of the
respondents were in their 40s-50s. Most worked in universities
and represented a variety of professions ranging from the arts
to computer science, though 13 of the respondents (8 females)
worked in the field of natural sciences. In the questionnaire,
demographic items were followed by questions about education,
language use, religion, cultural activities, and a set of questions
getting at the respondent's image of the intellectual, their attitudes
about current events and future prospects.
Based on these interviews, I argue that the idea of "channels
of Westernization" sheds light on the issue of the roles
of intellectuals in Azerbaijan today. After the collapse of the
USSR and Azerbaijan's proclamation of independence, the West gained
relatively independent and direct access to Azerbaijan. Whether
entered directly, or through Russia or even Turkey (this study
shows that positive attitudes towards Russia are based on the
view that Russia is a source of Westernization, while Turkey is
often viewed as a model of successful Westernization), the new
channels do not bring new inspiration to the Azeri intellectuals
because such new inspiration does not exist any more. That is,
Western Europe is rather preoccupied with debates over the meanings
of "specific" versus "universal," "intellectualism,"
and "fragmented truth," and there is no debate about
the commonly accepted ideas making their voices heard in Turkey.
This makes the Azeri intellectuals face a dilemma, as their particular
situation, such as the Karabagh problem, assumes the undertaking
of such roles. In fact, this explains their passiveness and withdrawal:
they simply seem not to know what to do (though we cannot ignore
the above mentioned factors). They seem to be torn between their
own necessities, "truth," and the changing realities.
However, they are still "marginal men" (in Kedourie's
[1960] terms), and elitist at the same time. They see their own
society from the eyes of foreigners, considering their own society
as backward and themselves, being different, as a potential force
capable of helping to overcome the backwardness. This situation
of being torn between the West and East also finds its expression
in a feature not mentioned in any analysis of Western European
intellectuals. The situation was reflected only in the Soviet
official definition of intellectuals, which includes qualities
such as moral purity, honesty, good reputation, etc. The next
question is whether this feature reflects the Eastern roots of
both the Russian and Azeri cultures, through which the Western
European perceptions of intellectuals were assimilated in Azerbaijan.
A similar situation is observed in the attitudes among the ziyali
towards Russia and towards changes in the society, including the
changes in the script and educational system. These changes were
introduced to reassert Azerbaijani independence, and were often
interrelated. The difference in the perceptions is caused by the
view of Russia either as a source of Westernization, which carries
positive values, or as a continuation of Tsarist/Soviet Russia
with its colonial ambitions. Thus, to understand the recent developments
in Azerbaijan, it seems necessary to investigate the ways through
which the Western models enter Azerbaijan and how they are incorporated
into the Azerbaijani reality.
References
Burbank, Jane
1996 "Were the Russian intelligenty
organic intellectuals?" In: Intellectuals and Public Life:
Between Radicalism and Reform. L. Fink, et al., eds. Ithaca,
N.Y.: Cornell University Press.
Gramsci, Antonio
1971 "The intellectuals,"
In: Selections from the Prison Notebooks, Q. Hoare and
G. N. Smith, eds. London: Lawrence and Wishart.
Kedourie, Elie
1960 Nationalism. London:
Hutchinson.
Said, Edward W.
1990 Representations of the
Intellectual: The 1993 Reith Lectures. New York: Vintage.
[Contents]
The Local Perspective: Interviews with Sakha in the Viliui River
Region[1]
Aileen A. Espiritu, Ph.D., Assistant Professor, History
Programme, University of Northern British Columbia, 3333 University
Way, Prince George, British Columbia V2N 4Z9, Canada, Tel.: +1(250)960-6684,
Fax: +1(250)960-5545, espiritu unbc.ca
From 1996 to 2000, my research partner Dr. David R. Marples and
I embarked on a project entitled "Yakutsk-Sakha and the Siberian
North-East: Resource Development, Environmental and Health Issues."[2] A major component
of the project was an extensive program of interviews in the towns
and villages along the Viliui River region, which I conducted
in the winter of 1996 and the summers of 1997 and 1998 (see Espiritu
1998, 1999a and 1999b). I interviewed over 80 Sakha living along
the Viliui River about their health, lifestyle, quality of life
and access to medical care. One of our goals was to provide a
survey of the social-health situation in the republic from the
grassroots as compared to the level of the authorities. In addition,
I interviewed local government officials in Viliuisk to provide
the regional/district perspective to republican questions.
I conducted open-ended interviews using 27 questions as a basic
guideline to determine how these residents viewed resource development
and the environmental situation. I began the interview process
in the winter of 1996 in the city of Viliuisk and in the town
of Verkhnii-Viliuisk. Twenty-three interviews with health care
professionals were conducted over a seven-day period. In the summer
of 1997, I returned to this area, and within a two-week period
interviewed 83 respondents in Viliuisk, Verkhnii-Viliuisk, Suntar,
and Suldiukar. The following summer, fifty more interviews were
collected in Viliuisk and Niurba, with most of the interviews
in Viliuisk being obtained from the city government. The latter
were held to ascertain how a small regional city copes with economic
crisis at both the republican and federal levels. In total, 156
interviews were conducted, each averaging 45-60 minutes in length.
Of these, I discarded 18 because the interviewees were unresponsive
or because of other factors (such as a supervisor or another person
of authority walking in and observing the interview, thus making
the interviewee nervous or affecting the way in which they answered
questions).
I also carried out interviews in the Viliui River Basin with
individuals with children. They ranged in age from 20 to 70 years.
Those with children were selected because they make up a major
segment of the population and also because they would have a wider
range of demands on health care and social services, whether this
be pediatric care, family planning, general medical care for themselves
and their children, daycare, child care allowances, or medicines.
The interviews demonstrate that this category of mothers and fathers
provides rich information and experience regarding health care
and social welfare. The wide age range also enhances the study
because it gives insights into the health situation both in the
Soviet period and at the present. The older interviewees provided
a picture of local conditions prior to the construction of hydroelectric
dams, diamond mines, and missile testing.
The general results are divided here into categories: health,
health care delivery, and the environment, leaving aside the team's
findings on resource development and the economy because of space
limitations.
Health and Health Care Delivery
Over the past forty years, the Viliui River Basin has been developed
for its diamond resources at the mouth of the Viliui River at
Mirnyi. Hydroelectric dams followed in the 1980s and 1990s. Because
of such sources of environmental problems, many residents in the
Viliui River region believe that their state of health is in decline,
and that incidences of cancer are rising dramatically. Indeed,
a majority of those interviewed believe that many of their ailments,
from cold to influenza, from gall bladder disease to Hepatitis
A and B, derive from environmental causes. While there were similarities
in some of the ailments that seemed to be most worrisome for men
and women, there were also gender differences in what were deemed
to be common ailments and their related causes. A large majority
(80%) of those interviewed suggested that they and their children
were more often sick with a common cold or influenza because the
air was not as pure as it used to be and that the water they drank
was contaminated. Despite the practice of obtaining drinking and
cooking water from lakes around the Viliuisk city area rather
than the Viliui River, Viliuisk residents still named the impurity
of the water they consumed as a potential source of increased
incidence of disease.
At the health care administrative levels, all across the Viliuisk
River Basin, there was resignation among the physicians that nothing
much could be done to improve the health situation without a significant
injection of money from the government of the Republic of Sakha.
There were, however, a few individual health care givers, both
nurses and doctors, who in their own way attempted to educate
the population on disease and illness prevention. This was most
notable among the physicians in Viliuisk and Verkhnii-Viliuisk
who worked in the Family Planning clinics. While most of the therapeutic
procedures they performed were abortions, they also perceived
that they were at the front line of educating their elementary
school and especially high school age population on birth control
and HIV infection. By all accounts, it appeared that these health
care professionals went into the schools to inform students about
family planning. Nonetheless, for the most part in these areas,
sex and sex education remain taboo topics.
Overall, a majority of the interviewees felt that their health
was getting worse, especially in the period since the collapse
of the Soviet Union. This perception coincides with another, namely
that the health care system as a whole has deteriorated or has
not kept up with technological advances of treatment and cures
for ailments and diseases. Suffice it to say that 98% of those
questioned about the health care system argued that it was in
a very poor state because of the lack of funding, lack of free
access to medicines and vaccines, lack of access to the newest
technology, and the difficulties involved in traveling to the
large, medically and technologically equipped hospital in the
city of Yakutsk.
Prior to the collapse of the Soviet regime, patients did not
have to pay for medicines, medical procedures or examinations,
and patients and families could fly to Yakutsk at reasonable rates.
The collapse of major industries and the economic downturn has
rendered the health care system dependent on imported medicines.
These have to be paid for in hard currency, and donations of medicines
and medical supplies to such remote regions are relatively limited.
The opening up of the market in the Russian Federation has made
travel for medical attention expensive, if not impossible for
most families. Many of those I interviewed indicated that their
predicament is exacerbated by the fact that their salaries are
not paid on time and are often in arrears of six months to more
than one year.
The Environment
All the interviewees with the exception of those who worked for
the Ministry of Nature Protection and the diamond mining industry
regarded the environment of the Viliui River Basin as the worst
in all of the Sakha Republic, owing to the heavily polluted water
coming from the Markha River, a major tributary of the Viliui.
Initially, the toxic wastes were dumped indiscriminately into
the Viliui and Markha rivers. All the respondents cited the depletion
of fish stocks (particularly the Karras, the national fish of
the Sakha) and low water levels as an indicator of the effects
of pollution. Residents of the city of Viliuisk were transporting
their water from nearby lakes, using blocks of ice in the winter
months for their water needs. They were also using the Viliui
River for cooking, drinking, and bathing. Though the residents
recognize the dangers that they face, most indicated resignation
to the situation, arguing that they cannot do anything about it
other than boil their drinking water.
Although there was resignation among many respondents regarding
the pollution of their environment, most were aware that better
environmental practices, such as finding environmentally sound
ways of developing resources and using the land, could improve
the ecology. A minority of those interviewed (about 10%) believed
that any kind of resource development was dangerous, and about
the same number advocated a return to traditional Sakha economies
defined by pastoral farms, hunting, fishing, and gathering. This
group maintained that activities such as mining, forestry, harvesting,
exploration, and extraction of minerals merely served the needs
of the republic and the federal government, and that the latter
were "raping Mother Earth."
The image of the Earth as Mother is particularly prevalent in
the conception of the world held by the Sakha people. The environment
is placed within the larger context of Sakha spirituality and
cosmology. All those who chose to talk about traditional Sakha
views regarding the environment (37 interviewees) associated the
environment with spirituality, arguing that any disturbance of
the environment, most notably mining, digging, deforestation,
and damming of rivers, is a sin against the Earth and against
Sakha beliefs. However, only a minority (5 respondents out of
the 37) suggested halting or reversing these activities altogether.
The remainder, including the larger group which did not talk about
traditional views on the environment, suggested that it was imperative
to develop natural resources not just for revenue and job creation
for the unemployed (the majority of whom were between the ages
of 16 and 25), but also because the residents of Sakha needed
to develop as a people socially and economically.
Conclusions
The problems faced by the Republic of Sakha are acute. In the
health sphere, declining life spans and very high rates of infant
mortality and infectious diseases give cause for concern. The
countryside is impoverished, living standards have fallen markedly,
and there are some critical situations in gold mining settlements
that have basically been abandoned with the closure of the mines,
but where much of the local population has remained.[1] The Republic has
suffered above all from the financial crisis that continues to
affect the Russian Federation, and which has rendered the federal
system a liability since the Fall of 1998. Because of its (almost
devoted) adherence to the federal system, the Republic of Sakha
has borne the brunt of the consequences of its collapse. Despite
the recent boom in the oil and gas industry globally, it is difficult
to determine at this point whether the fledgling oil and gas industry,
also found in the Viliuisk Region, will have a discernible effect
on the Sakha economy. A resource-rich region, it is today reliant
on the one industry in which it has retained a portion of the
control (diamonds, and 20% of the total), as other resources fall
into decline.
The euphoria of sovereignty has clearly dissipated. Politically
the main gains have been derived by representatives of the Sakha
rather than other groups within the Republic. Migration of skilled
personnel, especially Russian managers, in addition to stagnation
and decline in the developed industries such as gold and coal
extraction, have contributed to the economic malaise. Unemployment
is growing and has led to a rise in violent crimes, and drug and
alcohol abuse. To some extent, the Republic of Sakha is a microcosm
of Russian society as a whole, but it has taken on a more extreme
form because of its remoteness and the difficulties of living
in an Arctic climate. The government response has been to work
through a number of ministries and departments to try to develop
grassroots responses to the various problems pervading the rural
communities, particularly alcoholism.
Notes
[1]
I thank my research partner Dr. David R. Marples (University of
Alberta, Canada) for his editorial comments and valuable insights
regarding this brief report.
[2]
In association with the International Center, Yakutsk State University
and The Kate Marsden Society, City of Yakutsk.
[3]
In 1998, for example, nine settlements in Oimiakon, Aldan and
Usr'-Maiskii ulus were officially liquidated.
References
Espiritu, Aileen
1999a "Economic Development
Versus the Environment: Dissonance between Folk Law and State
Interests in the Vilyuysk River Region," In: Folk Law
and Legal Pluralism: Societies in Transformation: Papers of the
XIth International Congress of Folk Law and Legal Pluralism: Societies
in Transformation. K. von Benda-Beckmann and Harald W. Finkler,
eds., pp. 195-202. Moscow: Institute of Ethnology and Anthropology.
1999b "Ekonomicheskoe razvitie
i okruzhaiushaia sreda: nesootvetstvie obychnogo prava gosudarsstvennym
interesam v Viliuiskom raione," In: Obychnoe pravo i pravovoi
pliuralizm. N. I. Novikova and V. A. Tishkov, eds., pp. 110-114.
Moskva: Institut etnologii i antropologii, Rossiiskoi Akademii
Nauk.
1998 "The Health and the
Environment in Vilyuysk: The Consequences of Modernity,"
Annual Meeting of the Association for the Advancement of Slavic
Studies, Boca Raton, Florida.
[Contents]
Recent Work in Archives in Uzbekistan and Russia
Adeeb Khalid, Associate Professor, Department of History,
Carleton College, USA, Tel.: +1/507-646-4214, akhalid carleton.edu
During 2000-01, I spent 8 months in the archives in Uzbekistan
and Russia doing the basic primary source research on a project
entitled "The Making of Soviet Central Asia, 1918-1929."
My research was funded by a research scholarship from the American
Councils for International Education (ACTR/ACCELS) and a grant
from Carleton College. The project is conceived as a broad study
of the social, cultural, and political transformation of Central
Asian life in the first decade or so of Soviet rule. I wish to
pay particular attention to the period from 1917-1924, which has
tended to be neglected by the several important dissertations
done on the early history of Uzbekistan. I also wish to highlight
the role of local actors (the Jadids, Muslim communists, Basmachi/Qo'rboshi,
etc.). I worked in Uzbekistan for over five months and in Moscow
for another three. The purpose of this report is to describe conditions
in the archives and the holdings that I found useful.
The Central State Archives of the Republic of Uzbekistan
Located in Tashkent, this archive contains extremely rich documentation
on the Governorate-General of Turkestan (1865-1917), the Turkestan
Autonomous Republic (1918-1924), the People's Soviet Republic
of Khiva (1920-1924), the People's Soviet Republic of Bukhara
(1920-1924), and Uzbekistan (from 1924 on). The archive has excellent
guides to its holdings. They are printed, but available only in
the reading room. There are, in addition, typed handlists describing
other collections not included in the guides. There is also an
extensive card catalogue that locates documents in given subjects.
I was told, however, that it was not open to foreigners (even
though I had used it in the past). Its usefulness is compromised
to an extent by the fact that it uses the old Soviet system of
classification, which can obscure more than it reveals.
I worked through about 15 collections (fondy), including
the major ones devoted to the Central Executive Committees and
Councils of Ministers of Turkestan and Bukhara, as well as the
two ministries of education.
The archive has a small and helpful staff who service a small
reading room. Since the number of foreign researchers is small,
one can develop very good relations with the staff. I have been
working at the archive since 1991 (this was my fourth visit),
and have only very good things to say about the institution and
its staff. They also have excellent copying facilities. Photocopies
cost 51 so'm (about 17 cents at the official rate, but
only 7 cents at the street rate) and are done overnight. There
seems to be no limit on the number of copies that may be ordered,
except for the proviso that complete files (dela) may not
be copied.
Other Archives in Uzbekistan
The Tashkent city archive is located on the edge of the city
in the Sorok Let Pobedy neighborhood. It is housed near the Yangiobod
bazaar in a nine-story residential building, which it shares with
several other offices of the city government. The archive is little
used and the staff are not used to foreigners doing historical
research. Photocopying is available, but not professionally done.
I also made an exploratory trip to the Samarqand viloyat
archive. It is a small archive with a very friendly director.
Photocopying is readily available.
On the whole, the scope and quality of material remaining in
regional archives does not compare with the centralized collections
held in Tashkent. The Party archives (the former Uzbek branch
of the Institute of Marxism-Leninism, now the Presidential Archive)
remains closed to foreigners and indeed to most Uzbekistani scholars,
except those with official permission (and this seems to be granted
only to those working on the "repressions" of the 1930s).
The Russian State Archive of Socio-Political History (RGASPI)
I worked primarily in the collections of the Central Asian Bureau
of the Communist Party, which was the highest organ of power in
Central Asia between 1922 and 1934. Its collection is copious
and extremely rich. Unfortunately, RGASPI is open only three days
a week. It is a much bigger operation than the Central State Archives
of Uzbekistan, and is constantly crowded. Many of the fondy
have been microfilmed, and are available only in microform. Original
paper copies can, however, be ordered. Copying is possible, although
each researcher is limited to 400 copies per visit (apparently
regardless of the length of the stay). Copies are expensive (paper
copies cost $1; microfilms are 35 cents apiece, and actually are
of better quality) and take a long time to make, with two months
being the usual time frame for fulfillment. One usually needs
to have a friend pick up orders.
Library Work
I hoped to examine complete runs of several Uzbek-, Russian-,
and Tajik-language periodicals. The main holdings of Russian-language
materials are in the Rare Books Section of the Alisher Navoiy
Public Library in Tashkent. Uzbek- and Tajik-language sources
are to be found there and at the Beruni Institute of Oriental
Studies at the Uzbekistan Academy of Sciences in Tashkent. Both
of these institutions have extremely rich holdings that complement
each other, but neither institution has any copying facilities
(although at Beruni, microfilms of small numbers of pages may
be ordered at $2 per page; this is useful enough if one's research
concerns the intensive study of a unique manuscript, but not practical
for periodical research). Beruni charges foreign researchers an
annual "membership fee" of US$30. This is completely
legitimate and answers a pressing need for cash. Its working hours
are unfortunately short: the reading room is open Mondays through
Fridays from 10 a.m. to 1 p.m., and then from 2 p.m. to 5 p.m.
Navoiy is open seven days a week, the hours are longer, and no
fee is required, but no copying is possible. The periodicals not
housed in the rare books sections are in a different location,
which shut down in mid-February for repairs, and was still closed
as of this writing.
In Moscow, the Russian State Library (the Leninka) remains closed
for repairs, although the periodical section, housed in the annex
in Khimki, is open. The holdings, including those in Central Asian
languages, are wonderful, featuring complete runs of most major
magazines after 1923. Microfilming is available at about 60 cents
per exposure. The commute to Khimki (45 minutes from the center
of the city) can, however, be daunting.
[Contents]
Preparing and Conducting a Field Trip to Baku and Bishkek
Jamilya Ukudeeva, Ph.D. Candidate in Political Science,
University of California, Riverside, USA, Fax: +1/719-623-9121,
jamilya citrus.ucr.edu
The collapse of the Soviet Union opened new horizons for scholarly
research on Central Asia mainly in the areas of social science
and humanities. The previously understudied areas offered new
case studies, but offered little infrastructure for the researchers
bound for the field. Scholars of social science and humanities
were among the first who introduced the images of the Westerners
to Central Asia and visited the area on a regular basis. This
paper will share some of the experiences during my field trip
to Baku and Bishkek.
The research was conducted in Baku and Bishkek in the summer
of 2000. The goal of the research was to interview and survey
the participants of the social movements in the late 1980s and
early 1990s and to do archival work in the libraries. I should
note that the general atmosphere and attitude towards the research
on political issues was more open in Baku than in Bishkek.
Using E-mail
I started to plan the field trip from my desktop computer at
the University of California, Riverside by subscribing to various
email distribution lists such as Caucasus yahoogroups.com,
CentralAsia-L fas.havard.edu,
and others. Such lists can be useful in planning your accommodations
and getting the first contacts. However, I found it difficult
to network based solely on email. Many people do not have email
accounts. Others have changed email addresses. Some do not check
their accounts regularly. Most of my networking was done through
telephone contacts and personal referrals upon my arrival to Baku
and Bishkek.
Getting Appointments
I found it easier to get appointments in Baku than in Bishkek.
First, political activists and scholars in Baku are quite open
to interviews on political issues. They did not evade the meetings,
did not decline any questions, were willing to meet for follow-up
meetings, and were helpful with finding new contacts and materials.
As for Bishkek, some former political activists and officials
in Bishkek were very cautious and reserved when talking about
political issues. In some cases it was extremely difficult to
make appointments with officials, former activists or scholars.
Second, the better infrastructure of the political parties in
Baku made it easier to locate the activists and to contact them.
Most of the political parties have their own permanent offices,
where you can find their members, find their contact information,
or leave a message for them. Very often, a direct phone call to
the political party can get you the home phone number of the person
you are looking for. In Bishkek, political parties do not have
a good infrastructure. They change their location and phone numbers
quite often, may not answer the phone, and lack contact information
of their members. However, the experience with NGOs in Bishkek
was quite different they were more open and easier to locate and
interview.
Xerox and Internet Access
There are many Internet cafes in Baku. Most of them are on the
major streets. Some are open 24 hours a day. The fee for Internet
access is two-three dollars per hour. The speed is slow but acceptable.
There are few Internet cafes in Bishkek and the Internet connection
is incredibly slow.
In Baku free public access to the Internet is provided at the
Open Society Institute, Soros computer center, and the USIS's
office of the Information Resource Center. In Bishkek free public
access to the Internet is available only at the National Library,
where an advance appointment in person is required.
Xerox machines are hard to find in Baku and Bishkek. Xerox machines
are usually available in all libraries. Flyers in the library
lobby indicate where the xerox service is located. The price is
about 5 cents per copy.
Receipts
If you have a grant or scholarship, there may be a requirement
for reporting expenses during the trip. In Baku, most places (other
than street markets and bazaars) give receipts automatically,
or upon request. In Bishkek it is necessary to ask for a receipt.
In some cases people might see the request for a receipt as a
strange or even offensive inquiry.
Libraries
Bishkek and Baku libraries are not computerized; instead they
use card catalogs. Most of the catalogs are in Cyrillic. In recent
years, the Azeri libraries moved away from Cyrillic and started
to catalog their new acquisitions in Latin script. Unfortunately,
open access to the library holdings is limited to just a few collections.
In most cases, one has to fill out book search forms and submit
them to librarians. The book search usually takes one hour.
In Azerbaijan the best libraries are the Akhundov National Library,
the Library of the Academy of Science, the Institute of Manuscripts
(for ancient and medieval documents), and Baku State University
Library. Most of the microfilms of the Azeri newspapers archived
at US libraries lack the issues published during the turbulent
times of November 1988, January 1990 and August 1991. The Akhundov
National Library carefully cataloged the newspapers during these
times.
In Bishkek, the Kyrgyz National Library, Chernyshevskii Library,
and the Academy of Science are the main libraries to go to. Newspaper
archives are divided between the Kyrgyz National Library and the
Chernyshevskii Library. The current and recent newspapers (from
the last two years) are stored at the National Library, while
older newspapers are kept in the archives of the Chernyshevskii
Library.
Access to the libraries in Baku and Bishkek requires two 3 x
4 cm pictures, a passport, and a document certifying affiliation
with an educational institution (student ID in my case). There
is a small library membership fee, and symbolic charge for every
book search.
[Contents]
Brief
Soviet Census Resources
Lawrence W. Crissman, Director, ACASIAN, Griffith University,
Nathan, Brisbane, Queensland 4111, Australia, crissman asian.gu.edu.au
The Australian Centre of the Asian Spatial Information and Analysis
Network (ACASIAN), has received a final installment of map materials
matching the 1959 Soviet census from our colleagues at the Laboratory
of Cartography, Institute of Geography, Russian Academy of Sciences,
in Moscow. An earlier collaborative project, completed in 1997,
produced a 1:1 million resolution Geographic Information System
(GIS) spatial database containing all ADM3 (raion and gorsovet)
level administrative units plus all cities and rural towns included
in the 1989 Soviet census. We have digital versions of the unpublished
figures for total, male, female, urban and rural populations at
the same local levels for the 1959, 1970 and 1979 Soviet censuses.
Our long-term goal is to create the spatial data for those three
earlier census dates, beginning with 1959, which would constitute
a spatio-temporal GIS for the entire Soviet Union in the post-war
period.
[Contents]
Reviews and Abstracts
Book Review
Bold, Bat-Ochir, Mongolian Nomadic Society: A Reconstruction
of the 'Medieval' History of Mongolia. New York: Palgrave
Publishing (St. Martin's Press), 2001. 204 pp. + xvii. ISBN: 0-312-22827-9.
$59.95 cloth
Reviewed by: Timothy May, University of Wisconsin, Madison,
USA, tmmay students.wisc.edu
The vast majority of what Westerners have learned concerning
the Mongol Empire and Mongolia between the days of the Empire
and the twentieth century has been through two methods: the interpretations
of Western scholars and through translations of works by Soviet
scholars who rarely deviated from the theoretical and ideological
methodology prescribed to them. With the fall of the Soviet Union,
scholars in the former Soviet Union and its satellites, such as
Mongolia, have been freed from their intellectual shackles and
now must analyze their history with a fresh perspective. This
is not to say that previous work under a more repressive regime
did not have merit, but nevertheless, variance from the official
interpretation of Marxism was marginal. While many Western scholars
disagreed with Marxist interpretations of history, the Marxist
influence concerning pastoral-nomadic society, though often criticized,
continues to have a great impact on the interpretation of Mongolian
history. This fact alone makes Bat Ochir Bold's book, Mongolian
Nomadic Society: A Reconstruction of the 'Medieval' History of
Mongolia, an important development in the historiography of
all aspects of Mongolian history.
Bat-Ochir Bold, a Mongolian scholar at the University of Iceland,
has set forth to examine the current views on Mongolian nomadic
society, namely that it was a feudal structure. He views his book
as an attempt to study the structural and developmental characteristics
of Mongolian nomadic society over the course of Mongolian history.
Approaching this topic from theoretical and empirical perspectives,
Bold focuses his work from the twelfth century to the twentieth
century due to the source material available. After the twelfth
century a fairly stable and independent Mongolian society existed.
In his opinion, although political institutions changed, nomadic
society remained relatively unchanged until the 18th century,
when the combination of Manchurian rule and the growth of Buddhism
hampered the development of Mongolia and altered nomadic society.
Mongolian Nomadic Society is divided into six chapters
and a conclusion. The first chapter focuses on the source material.
Bold evaluates the primary and secondary materials through historiographical
and cultural interpretations. The core of the study, chapters
two through four, examines the structural elements of nomadic
society. These include the roles of social and economic factors
as well as tribal and political-administrative elements. In these
chapters, Bold compares pre-industrial Europe with feudalism in
Mongolia, essentially comparing Europe with a Mongolian model
of production. Although this, on the surface, seems absurd, is
it not the reverse of what Marxist and non-Marxist scholars have
done? The fifth chapter focuses on the spread of Tibetan Buddhism
in Mongolia and its ramifications on nomadic society. The sixth
chapter attempts to depict the essence, function and evolution
of traditional nomadic society. Then, in his concluding remarks,
Bat-Ochir Bold outlines the internal structure and evolution of
traditional nomadic society.
In Bold's view, attempts to evaluate Mongolian history have been
mired in two problems. Attempts prior to 1921, when Mongolia entered
the sphere of Soviet influence, were bound to tradition, which
included Buddhist and Chinese interpretations of events. After
1921, a new generation of scholars made their own attempts to
reinterpret their history, but suddenly found themselves, both
willingly and unwillingly, examining their past through the lens
of Marxist dogma, often dictated from the Soviet Union.
According to Marxist-Leninist theory, society moved through five
stages: primitive society, slavery, feudalism, capitalism, and
finally socialism, with communism being the pinnacle of socialism.
For Mongolia, and their Soviet allies, this presented a problem.
If these stages were applied to Mongolia, it was quite apparent
that Mongolia never reached a capitalist stage. Therefore, they
were in a feudal stage before the intervention of the Soviets
and the Mongolian People's Revolutionary Party (MPRP). To accommodate
this and similar problems in Central Asia, the Communist party
adopted the idea that certain stages could be bypassed en route
to socialism. During this period, the Soviet scholar Vladimirtsov
coined the idea of nomadic feudalism in 1934. Although many scholars
discussed this concept, most adhered to it. Even as late as 1976,
it remained an essential part of Mongolian historiography, although
many scholars, Western as well as Soviet, rejected it based on
its theoretical ambiguity. Nevertheless, nomadic feudalism remains
a model that scholars examine and use today.
To dispute the concept of nomadic feudalism, Bold delves into
the structure of nomadism. In doing so, he asks two questions:
to what extent has ecological change influenced animal husbandry
in Mongolia; and, how has the origin of livestock keeping been
determined ecologically? Although the questions are similar, they
intertwined and have not received much attention. After examining
this, he then compares the results for the Mongolian nomadic economy
with that of feudal Europe.
In the third chapter, Bold examines the evolution of the Mongolian
socio-political organization, ranging from the tribe to the various
forms of kinship, both fictive and non-fictive. By doing so, we
see the development of the state, prompting Bold to ask: should
this state be considered feudal? And if so, how should feudal
be defined?
During his examination of the social strata, Bold relies heavily
on the research of Mongolian, Soviet and Hungarian scholars. An
integral part of chapter four focuses on the terminology used
in discussing the social structure before and after the Manchurian
period, and how both periods differentiate between Chinggisids
and non-Chinggisid taiji, or nobles.
Many readers will find chapter five especially interesting. The
debate on the effects of Buddhism on Mongolia has always been
a heated one. Arguments range from Buddhism essentially ruining
the martial ardor of the Mongols and depleting it of manpower
to the other end of the spectrum that it benefited the Mongols
by introducing a world religion and ending the influence of shamanism.
Bold, to his credit, does not fall into the trap of entering this
debate. Instead he turns his attention to how Buddhism or rather
Lamaism affected the nomadic economy. One aspect that he covers,
which is often overlooked, is that permanent monasteries did not
spring up overnight. Instead, they gradually evolved from a ger
and eventually became the large fixed structures that are commonly
associated with Lamaism.
In the final chapter, Bold examines the dynamics of the development
of Mongolian nomadic society, particularly in the areas of livestock,
family, political structure, and military conflict. Through the
study of these elements, Bold then examines why the nomads of
Central Eurasia were so aggressive and why they were so successful.
As part of this study, Bat-Ochir Bold includes climatic problems,
the mobile lifestyle of the nomads, their strategies, and, surprisingly,
the role of shamanism with its focus on the Möngke Köke
Tengri, or Eternal Blue Heaven. The religious element of the nomadic
conquests is something that is all too commonly overlooked and
has attracted little research. In his discussion of the evolution
of nomadic society, he concludes, quite plausibly, that it is
erroneous to conclude that a single dramatic change occurred,
such as with the introduction of Buddhism, or the Mongols' incorporation
into the Manchu Empire, but rather change was gradual and not
immediate.
Bold concludes that Mongolian nomadic society is so different
from Medieval or Northern Europe that one cannot study Mongolia
based on models draw from those used to study Europe, and for
that matter, China. The evolution of agricultural and nomadic
peoples are simply too disparate to establish a model from one
and apply it to another.
Mongolian Nomadic Society is a welcome addition to the
study of Mongolia as well as the study of state formation. Too
often scholars, often unconsciously, apply methods based on one
culture or society that are woefully inadequate and inappropriate
for another. The cultural context must always be kept in mind.
There are a few minor issues with his system of transliteration,
such as his use of "Genghis Khaan." In his note on transliteration,
he maintains that he prefers to use this as it is more familiar
to Western readers, but the use of Khaan is not familiar at all.
Although it is a perfect transliteration from the modern Mongolian,
it is odd to the Western eye. Nevertheless, these are minor issues
and do not detract from the questions he poses. The importance
of this volume is not so much his overall conclusions, but that
it may serve as a stimulus for scholars to rethink how they view
Mongolian nomadic society, even if they disagree with the author.
[Contents]
Book Abstract |