Thoughts on Ethno-Baroque by Rozita Dimova

This book has intrigued me for some years. Since writing my essay on spatial and temporal aspects to national identity and history in the Republic of Macedonia, I have seen and read more essays and books on the topic. This book I felt would add to my knowledge of the role aesthetics and materialism play in reshaping ethnic, national and social relations in Macedonia.

Rozita Dimova seeks to account for the changing roles and relations that have occurred during socialism and since the fall of socialism between, mainly, the Albanian and Macedonian ethnic groups in Macedonia. Her central theme revolves around the axis of loss and gain in the perceptions of members of both of these groups. This perception reaches back beyond the emphasis that is usually placed on the economic demise of Yugoslavia in the early 1980s, and instead looks to the 1950s and 1960s when consumerism became apparent in Macedonia and peoples experiences of it started to cement. These experiences accelerated once democratization ensued, and flowed in tandem with migrations from rural to urban settings.

Dimova’s anthropological research displays examples of how ethno-national ‘conflict’ can arise in the tamest and most innocent of circumstances. Reading the accounts, from both ethnic communities, you get a sense of how these people slowly realized their sense of loss, gain or entitlement based on their past experience and yearning for times gone by or for a better future. One example is a young Macedonian mother, Lela, who lives in an apartment block where she has to save for minor luxuries in life. The description of her deteriorated flat can be viewed as a metaphor for how the Macedonians’ feel about their place in present society. A family of Albanians moved into the upstairs flat, the constant noise of children and residue of bread making on the balcony, both creeping into the downstairs flat. This intrusion leads Lela to feel nostalgia for the past, a sense of a loss and a former entitlement because of the position her ethnicity led ‘her’ to have in the past.

Another story is of an Albanian father who is paying for her daughters wedding. His tastes reflect those of Macedonians, and underlines how Albanians are aligning their tastes to those of Macedonians. Among the Albanian community, the ability to purchase this ‘Baroque’ furniture elevated your social standing within your ethnic community. In relation to the Albanians’ standing with the Macedonians, they see it as one of eliminating the ethnic stereotype of being backward through the medium of purchasing commodities, as a way to show their advancement and economic strength. However, from a Macedonian perspective, the move towards similar tastes becomes a threat to their identity, with ‘us’ and ‘them’ becoming less distinct. Dimova believes that Macedonians don’t like the idea that Albanians want to be like them and get jealous of their commodities, but also don’t see why they would want what Macedonians like when they are richer than them and can afford other styles.

This theme of ‘us’ and ‘them’ is explored in relation to gender, especially in respect to Albanians, with an air of ‘nesting orientalisms’ about it from Dimova. Here she observes how women are seen as the carriers of Albanian national identity and outlines why Albanian men seek to keep their women ignorant and uneducated so that they wouldn’t contribute to the decline of the nation. Yet, Albanian men, particularly those who work abroad, have mistresses and are happy for them to be ‘loose’ women. This hypocrisy within Albanian masculinity arises because Albanian men fear Albanian women may prefer Macedonian men. This exemplifies loss on the Albanian side, as families in the past were rural, subsistence based, with the women uneducated and home based. A market economy and democratization works for Albanian men, and any extension to Albanian women is seen as a threat to the Albanian nation, hence Albanian men don’t want ‘them’ (women) to become like ‘us’ (men).

I see these examples highlight the importance of movement in what Dimova observes. Where there is movement, or a transition, then differing or opposing forces converge and conflict emerges. Conflict can only occur if there is a movement of peoples, commodities, customs etc, into spaces and times that haven’t experienced such movement or change. Conflicts emerge and are seen as ethno-national because the two ethnicities experience movement, or lack of movement, differently. For some Albanians it is the desire to have commodities similar to their Macedonian co-nationals; a market economy has allowed them to purchase it, and moving homes near to Macedonians meant they saw and wanted to acquire their ‘Baroque’ style of interiors. For Macedonians, they see their place as having slipped from the Yugoslav days to where they are now challenged in their dominance of the state. Former jobs pay less or are gone, and they historically didn’t need to be guest workers as their positions at home were secure. The free market has meant new neighbours and Albanians wanting to emulate them, although they now cannot keep up that same aesthetic pretence due to the last of money. Hence the basis of Macedonian or Albanian nationality is questioned. This doesn’t affect all people across Macedonia, and neither is there solely resentment or mimicry between ethnicities because it is also experienced within each ethnicity.

But Dimova delivers a fresh account of how low level ethno-national conflicts form part of people’s daily lives, and describes their attempts to rationalize their lot in life at present due to factors that are historical, cultural and economic.

My Images of SEE – 14:17, Mon 8th August

So, this morning my alarm didn’t wake us up at our scheduled time of 08:00. It was my intent to leave early to get to ‘Simeondis’ travel agents for 09:00. However, we slowly crept from our sleep to get ready for going out. Liam was frozen all night, him sleeping under the air-con and all, meant he had a disturbed sleep. I, on the other hand, stirred only once. We departed our hotel at 09:25 and headed west towards Democracy Square. We then turned off down 26^th October Street. I expected the shop to be at the bottom of this street – a good mile away. However the Law Courts, as indicated in my e-mail instructions, appeared to our left. So we crossed over and located our building. A porter indicated, using sign language, the first floor. So we went up. On the door there was a sign – in Greek. It said ‘Simeondis’ on it, but there was no answer. We tried opening it but no luck. Reading a number (and a vague similarity to numbers, a second ‘numeral’ we assumed it opened at 10:00, so we departed. To kill time, we discovered the old city wall. So we walked around the back (behind the Law Courts) via a small park, back to our original destination. The walls were a good 3000 yards from the sea, beating my assumption that they went all the way to the waters edge.

Once 10:00 had been reached, we moved in once more. Again the door remained unanswered and locked. Liam suggested we go up a floor, which we did. Lo and behold, there was the office. I produced my e-mail to the girl on the front desk. She opened her book and saw my name. I noticed it was at the top of the list for the bus that day – talk about forward planning! She took our passports, and gave us a stamped ticket and our passports. We paid €20 each for the one-way coach. It was to depart tomorrow at 17:30 opposite our building.

We then walked back to our hotel room. We rehydrated and applied sun cream before departing again – handing in our room key to the friendly reception man. Liam noticed a fort of the hill yesterday, so we decided to hike it there. So we stuck to a northeasterly route up the hill. We passed a massive open space, in front of what looked like a municipal building, which contained what one could only presume to be Roman/Greek ruins. They were spectacular, especially against the overbearing buildings around us. We then continued.

Above one of the next east/west roads we appeared to be in more residential surroundings. There were still slim and windy streets but the gradient was getting steeper. The housing must have been built mostly in the 1950s or 1970s – depending on the block. All had small balconies and over them had screens for shade. Cars were almost always parked chaotically on the road, especially at junctions. We pressed on.

Only for the local bus going past, to indicate some sense of familiarity in somewhat unfamiliar surroundings, we were best able to predict that we were on the right track. So we pushed on. We then got to a point where a house wasn't built in-between the sandwiched buildings.

The views were superb. It reminded me of images I have seen of Jerusalem – only with a bay; the crisp, turquoise sea glistening in the midday sun. Facing south, we could see east to where the airport was, scanning the bay – with its smattering of sea vessels – across to the tip of the port in the west. To our left was the old city wall, crawling past us, up the hill, to our destination. The Fort.

So we continued on for the last leg of the journey. Once we reached the ‘summit’ we realized it was closed. But I did get the opportunity to buy postcards and fridge magnets. We then went to the door of the tower, which had a decked area. The views were stunning. Now you could see the entire port too. 

 

Directly ahead of us, looking south was the wall striding towards the Rotunda. We could see the small, spiky tower next to the Archaeological Museum we visited yesterday, and the vastness of the Thermaikos Gulf before us. We then retreated back to the town, following the wall south, capturing a glimpse of the Rotunda close up as we went past. 

Its brick was almost sandstone like. Its accompanying tower must have been a later addition. We retraced out steps westwards down Egnatia in search of food. We intended on going ‘local’ out of a street side fast food outlet, but were put off by there being no English to help us make an informed culinary choice. So we walked down the ‘Bond Street’ of Thess, Tsimiski, and back to Aristotle Square. Here we ate at a different establishment, but still soaking up the daytime atmosphere.

Liam then wanted to witness the forum. So we walked up to Archea Agora Square, where we saw a pack of wild dogs snoozing in the shade, and onward to the forum beyond. Another sighting of a vast Roman settlement. A massive plaza in its centre but then tunnels and archways underneath, at its edge. To the right, an amphitheatre where Liam said discussions would have been held. Battling with the heat, we returned to the hotel for 14:00.

Watching some TV, it is interesting to observe how it compares to UK TV – and I do say that it is no competition. A TV show that looks like it is a 1990s repeat does actually seem to be recently made. So I opted for Eurosport – always modern!


It was on this day that I became aware of the depth of history of the city. I had known the regional history, but that it made its appearance in a city, hiding under grass, near the sea, next to more modern buildings, brought home the idea of Thessaloniki having more that what was being presented at first glance.

Since my visit, I have read Mark Mazower's Salonica: City of Ghosts (2004). This book enlightened me so much on the history of the city covering the last 500 years. Given that it rests within a Greek state, this city has been under Byzantine, Ottoman, German and Greek rule, and been targeted for rule by Bulgarians and Serbians. This was already known to me, but the diverse make up of the people that made this walled city was unknown. Most presentations of the city look at the Greek, Turkish or Bulgarian populations that inhabited this city, but lacking in study were the Jews who, up to 1912, were the largest ethnic group in Thessaloniki. The Ladidka is what remains of their physical presence in the centre. This was not only down to the mass slaughter on the city's dwindling population by the Nazi's during the course of World War II; but also because of great many a fire in the city over the years, or economic opportunities elsewhere. These residents and a host of other peoples resided in Thessaloniki over the centuries, ebbing and flowing in numbers as time went on. This book captures the vibrancy of how these people lived, how they were organised, what the customs were, and in what buildings they lived. One of my fascinations is the aesthetic beauty that buildings have, and my curiosity as to the intent of a certain style. At present the Modernist builds project rationality and purpose. But past building had other purposes that may be redundant now yet instead posses that aesthetic beauty somewhat more.

The home of Ataturk, the founder of modern Turkey, had Ottoman as its style, with its characteristic bay window which can still be seen today. On the note of Ataturk, who would now have been born in Greece, it should be remembered that after Greece took over Salonica, he was one of the Turkish generals engaged in the war between Greece and Turkey in 1923 that saw hundreds of thousands displaced. Greeks fled Anatolia, whilst Turks and Muslims fled to Turkey. This meant that by 1929, 75% of the city was now Greek. The Greek nationalising of the city could then begin in earnest.  

And it is this ethnic homogenisation, along with the binary of nationalisation/de-Ottomonization of Thessaloniki, that can be witnessed at present in the architectural and social structures of the city. This is what Maximilian Hartmuth observes in his article in Urban Life and Culture in Southeastern Europe (Roth and Brunnbauer, 2006). This leads on to the wider concepts of national identity, nationalism and citizenship, as categorisations of people, whether objective or subjective, and the processes that these concepts engage in or emanate from. But these will out in further debates. Only to finally say that Thessaloniki is a city that may seem 'modern' in its presentation, and Greek in its identification, but it has 'resided' in numerous states and empires, yet always remained regionally in 'Macedonia' (however one wishes to define its borders) whilst being historically diverse in its populations.