‘Skopje 2014’ – National identities, historiography, and cross border relations

The development project known as ‘Skopje 2014’, is a multi-million Euro transformation of Macedonia Square and its area either side of the river Vardar. Unveiled in February 2010, it leans heavily on a ‘classical antiquity’ style and comprises of buildings, statues, an arch and obelisk, as well as a new footbridge. Given the turbulent political context of relations with Greece, along with a volatile ethnic situation domestically with the Albanians, my objective is to analyse the varying factors that surround the present VMRO-DPMNE government’s attempts to strengthen Macedonian national identity through Skopje’s urban landscape.

Laura Kolbe (‘Central and Eastern European capital cities’, in Planning Perspectives, 2007) conducted fascinating research into the presentation of Eastern European cities to the West via websites, and how capital cities in post-Socialism are seeking to portray themselves in a ‘European’ manner. I seek to invert this thesis and argue that ‘Skopje 2014’ is a project led by the current VMRO-DPMNE government’s nationalist discourse to ‘nationalise’ the city of Skopje for its ethnic Macedonian, domestic audience. Two problems arise from this and are intertwined. Firstly, the symbolism of the project affects relations with Greece; therefore I will seek to address the conflicting claims to Macedonian history and its impact on Macedonian national identity in view of the contemporary relations between these two states. Secondly, the location of the buildings and the perspective the individual takes alters depending on ethnicity and location within the city. As such, I will address recent ethnic Macedonian and Albanian tensions, which centre on the question of nationality, and link these to how ‘Skopje 2014’ could further entrench negative perceptions of the ‘Other’.

To deal with the first problem, I will use Benedict Anderson’s thesis (Imagined Communities, 2007) where he proposed the ‘following definition of the nation: it is an imagined political community – and imagined as both inherently limited and sovereign.’ In this sense, an analysis of Macedonian national identity needs to be understood in the context of the nation being a creation, albeit in constant construction, whose limits and sovereignties overlap on to other nations. And because, as Victor Roudometof (Collective Memory, National Identity, and Ethnic Conflict, 2007) says, at ‘the heart of the dispute lies the thesis that the Republic is the official homeland of the Macedonian nation.’, one needs to trace the emergence of Macedonia as a republic from the mid to late 19^th century when national identities in the region began forming and interacting.

The geographical region known as Macedonia was mostly ruled over in its entirety, for over 400 years by the Ottoman Empire, up until the end of the Balkan Wars of 1912/13, albeit with a short spell in an autonomous Bulgaria in the 1870s. During this time, the communities that lived there identified more with their religious confession or language. However after the Treaty of Berlin in 1878 interest in the region grew, due to its strategic geographic position, from those national groups with coterminous state boundaries surrounding it, along with the Great Powers who dictated the terms of the Treaty. So, according to Jelavich and Jelavich (The Establishment of the Balkan National States, 1804-1920, 1977), Bulgaria, Greece and Serbia for ‘the last two decades of the nineteenth century […] entered into a regular battle for predominance. Their weapons were the competing churches, educational establishments and national societies.’ The resulting problem was a plethora of fluid national identities that included Bulgarian, Greek, Serbian, Ottoman and a nucleus of Macedonian in an area of conflicting claims over territory. After the two Balkan Wars in 1912/13, Macedonia as a region became split amongst 3 states. It was not until 1945 that the current territorial boundaries of the present day Republic of Macedonia came into being as a republic within Yugoslavia.

Victor Roudometof’s explanation of this period reads of ‘national narratives’ emerging prior to the Balkan Wars; yet for him the failure of inter-war Greek and Serb cultural homogenisation projects was the turning point for ‘Macedonian’ to be viewed as a ‘national’ identity instead of a regional one. In his view, the post-1945 period was the starting point for the articulation of a Macedonian ‘national narrative’, with the support of the institutions of the second Yugoslavia, geared towards nation building. So after 1945, people grew up and lived in a Macedonian national culture with a Macedonian national identity. In other words, a Macedonian nation only began to emerge after a territorial state was created to support the development of an exclusive ‘national narrative’. Ulf Braunnbauer points to historians and historiography as aiding the construction of this ‘national narrative’ because ‘Macedonian historiography had a nationalist perspective from the very beginning.’ This is because historiography was needed after 1945 to consolidate Macedonian national identity to counter perceived Bulgarian territorial expansion.

This constructivist observation of the development of Macedonian national identity leads to the current dispute between Greece and the Republic of Macedonia over the claim that the Republic is the home of the Macedonian nation. Evidently, ownership of Macedonian history is essential for one side to claim the nation (and thus identity) as their own, and this has been argued on both sides through claims to historical continuity. Loring Danforth (The Macedonian Conflict, 1995) believes ‘The view of history on which the argument for the Greekness of Macedonia is ultimately based is quintessential nationalist history that reifies both the Greek nation and Greek culture and seeks to demonstrate the unbroken continuity of the “Greek” race and “Hellenism” from the dawn of history to the present.’ Therefore Greece rejects the dual notion of a Macedonian nation within a Republic of Macedonia because they claim ownership of Macedonian history through continuity. Some Macedonians do try and counter this with their own version of continuity to antiquity, but most focus on the classic cultural reawakening of ‘Macedonian’ in the 19^th century that underpins modern Macedonian nationalist thought. Ulf Braunnbauer ((Re)Writing History, 2004) sees this as a continuation of the ‘national history’ paradigm, in to the post-Socialist era. This is due to the lack of funds which deprive researchers access to external ideas, a government that still monopolises research; and researchers who feel obliged to focus on a specific era (19^th and 20^th centuries) for fear of becoming unemployed for speaking out against their elders. Therefore Macedonians are still only able to focus on researching their ‘own’ national history so that they can continue to legitimize their national identity by adding to the Macedonian ‘national narrative’. So what we have are two states who have different claims to some elements of the same history, whilst simultaneously trying to deny the other’s claim.

So how does the ‘Skopje 2014’ contribute to this reification of nationalist history? If the Macedonian ‘national narrative’ is an ongoing phenomenon even in post-Socialism, then ‘Skopje 2014’ attempts to further consolidate national identity symbolically in the city. ‘Conceptualised as an attempt to reshape the capital’s outlook by adorning the city centre with numerous monuments […] the project has been criticized as yet another dimension of the overall endeavour to redefine the public space, to bring about historical revisionism and to effect the invention of traditions.’ This is how Ljubica Spaskovska (In Search of a Demos, 2010) observes the project. Even before this project was announced other symbolic gestures were made in and around Skopje to complement the renewed attempt to solidify Macedonian national identity through a nationalist discourse of history: the renaming of the city airport to Alexander the Great, the naming of the city stadium after Philip II, the construction of a Christian Cross to commemorate 2000 years of Christianity, the use of the Vergina Sun symbol on the Republic’s flag, and so on. One could even question the intent of building the Mother Teresa memorial house as an attempt to claim her for Macedonia, even though she was born into the Ottoman Empire. Therefore the additions to the urban landscape continue in this reification process: The Alexander the Great statue in Macedonia Square, statues of leaders of the Ilinden Uprising of 1903 and religious figures, buildings in ‘classical antiquity’ style including a museum and so on.

But one can’t place this in the urban landscape alone in space and time. Cities are constructs too, and are representative of the varying political, economic and cultural discourses that the city has gone through. Just as one can’t create a homogenous community motionless in time, a city is a collage of all that came before leading to the present. Nuala Johnson, in her study on ‘monuments, geography, and nationalism’ (‘Set in Stone’, in Environment and Planning D: Society and Space, 1995), states that ‘geographers are just beginning to examine the relationships between memorialisation of the past and the spatialisation of public memory.’ These processes are being carried out with ‘Skopje 2014’. But problem the nationalist discourse has is that other histories are present that it has to compete with, such as the Socialist one and Ottoman one, in buildings that remain in the city. These include the Stone Bridge, Old Bazaar, Kale Fortress, Socialist apartment blocks, shopping centre – along side modern capitalist constructs such as the Rammstore. However the Macedonian Government still attempts to coerce its ethnic Macedonian citizens into collectively remembering their national history, by presenting the ongoing ‘national narrative’ of an imagined history through ‘Skopje 2014’. Furthermore this attempt is a deliberate provocation of Greece by trying to devalue their national identity through claiming ownership of a shared history.

In tandem with this reification and display of Macedonian national identity comes the distancing of Albanians from ethnic Macedonians within the confines of an independent Macedonian nation-state. I seek to narrow this to the two sides of the river Vardar where ‘Skopje 2014’ is placed, by looking at the demographics of the two municipalities that comprise it, Tsentar and Chair. The 2002 population census shows that in the Tsentar municipality of 45,412, 38,778 or 85% were Macedonian, and 1465 or 3% were Albanian. The 64,773 residents of Chair municipality comprised of 15,628 or 24% Macedonian and 36,921 or 57% Albanian. The rest of the population was made up of other minorities. Nationally the figure was 64% Macedonian and 25% Albanian. The conflict between these two groups was not based on a struggle over shared histories; instead theirs was a conflict over citizenship in the newly independent Macedonian state. Ljubica Spaskovska’s paper on citizenship and belonging presents a detailed narrative of how citizenship policy in Macedonia developed and contributed to the isolation of Albanians vis-à-vis their relations with Macedonians. The initial downgrading of their nationality in light of their position in the former Yugoslavia and inception of an ethno-national citizenship led to articulations of discontent and the desire for a new framework; in parallel to other factors accounting for Albanian discontent with the new state and its institutions. The Ohrid Framework Agreement in 2001 and the continued practice of consociational politics, just emphasise the differences between the two communities. So the relationship between nationality and citizenship can be expressed as the nationalisation of citizenship by the Macedonians, to the disadvantage of the Albanians. This feeds into insecurities that Albanians have regarding the rise of Macedonian cultural hegemony, and a lack of belonging to such a nationalized state.

Viewed in the post-socialist context of Skopje, one could see this as the pushing of minorities to the periphery or hiding them altogether. This is a mirror image of what Setha Low (‘The Anthropology of Cities’, in Annual Review of Anthropology, 1996) describes as a ‘Divided City’, the notion being that there are hidden barriers of race and class. The location of the buildings on the riverside is one example of how this idea can be linked to the spatial planning of ‘Skopje 2014’ in ethnic terms. If viewed from Macedonia Square, or read as a ‘Macedonian perspective’, then it blocks out the view of the Old Bazaar, and the Kale Fortress. Conversely, if one stands on the Albanian side of the Stone Bridge, the Albanian perspective is that of Alexander the Great on horseback striding towards the Albanians with the cross of Christ up upon the hillside behind. The former can be read as a wish to block out certain elements of non-nationalist history. This can also evident in the recent disputes over the renaming of city streets. The latter can be taken as an attempt to remind the Albanians of Macedonian cultural hegemony conjuring up an image of an historical leader ‘leading’ Macedonians across the river, as an attempt to rewrite history and to collectively ‘forget’ the presence of Albanians.

In conclusion, ‘Skopje 2014’ can be viewed as a continuation of 6 decades of Macedonian nation-building, in the form of urban planning and spatial development. On the one hand, it is an attempt by Macedonians to claim single ownership over Macedonian history against Greek attempts to do the same. This is present in the numerous symbolic processes undertaken and ongoing in the city of Skopje, in an almost ‘Andersonian’ attempt to (re)create an imagined Macedonian community. On the other, this attempt at developing a national narrative through ‘Skopje 2014’ is excluding the sizeable Albanian minority, already fearful of their place in the nation-state due to citizenship issue, compounded by their lack of presence in the present constructions of Skopje. This may be a matter of perspectives on the construction through the location of the individual in the city. So going back to Laura Kolbe, the Macedonian government is not looking externally to present the city to the world, but is looking internally to its domestic, Macedonian audience.

Addendum

Since writing this in early 2012, more constructs have occurred, and some political changes. The VMRO-DPMNE have recently won their third term in office, yet in the previous municipal elections they lost the Mayoralty for the area where the regeneration is occurring. This led to questions being raised about the hefty cost and  the possibility of halting the construction.

Further updates to the vista of constructions include galleons on the river, the ‘updating’ of commercial buildings on the square, and the transformation of the National Assembly building. All maintain the ‘national narrative’ of the ruling party. Yet, succour was paid to opponents both political and ethnic. Further statues were added recognizing socialist or communist ‘national’ heroes. Yet this just underpins the nationalist zeal with which the ruling party is imposing its version of history. It’s only of those it deems worthy of appearing in its nationalised public space.

In the Albanian area, a statue of Skanderbeg was allowed. But this reifies ethnic division on two levels. It allows Albanians to have ‘their’ own statue, but it is geographically placed outside of the arena where the other projects are occurring, thus symbolically isolating the Albanian community in the present. Yet it also isolates the Albanians historically as the choice of idol doesn’t fit in with the Macedonian ‘national narrative’, thus creating a separate (and deliberate) bridge between past and present for the Albanians. So the project has continued to pursue the path of division in the name of ‘a’ perspective of what being ‘Macedonian’ is meant to be.

My Images of SEE – 17:33, Sat 13th August

Had a lovely night’s sleep, but any dream of a lie-in was rudely disturbed by renovation work occurring downstairs. So we slowly woke up, and I dipped in for a shower. We walked across the road from our apartment to the main inn, where we entered upon a busy common room wrestling with a ‘buffet’ breakfast. I grabbed a seat, whilst Liam went ahead. Upon his return, I then got in line. One sale person was in charge, and things looked like they were running out. So I grabbed a slice of bread, some cheese, Apple juice and a milky tea. We devoured it then left.

Back at the apartment we set about our first round of washing. I washed whilst Liam constructed a Crystal Maze style washing line – involving the windows and a nearby cupboard. He then rinsed and wringed the clothes whilst I did. We then packed and walked back up along the long road to the train station. The buildings went from Mid-1800 imperial, to small 1960 constructs, on to crumbling fronts by the time we approached the station. This was another Communist experiment, yet a recent addition was made at the front in the form of a massive tent.

We went to information, where a local lady in her mid 50’s recited the phrase “International desk” whilst pointing. Following her fingers, we reached our destination. We booked two couchettes in a cabin of 4 all for £16 – bargain! We then departed the station, armed with 2 bottles of water and a Coke, for another main road into the centre. Again, crumbling buildings led to 1960’s ones, that led to older, nicer ones. We reached a square with 5 attractive points.

First was the synagogue, tucked down a side street off the square, behind the second point of interest. It had 4 points rising, and its central, larger point too. We then walked through an old building that contained a modern market. Meats, nuts, fruit, mixed with beauty products & cafes. We then appeared at the square again. We crossed the road to get on to the main part of the square, and then saw the mosque. Very impressive it was too, akin to the one in Skopje. Behind it were the ruins of the old baths. Nearby was a fountain, and behind two old former baths looking opulent. To the left of them, over an adjoining road, were several taps of hot spring water. We bottled a bit of the warm stuff, but decided to pour it away afterwards.

We then walked via the metro (to bypass the roadworks) to the next square that had the Orthodox Church on it, but to the east had the modern Presidency. As we walked past, we peered to our right. In the Presidential courtyard was an old church. We could freely walk in, so we did. It was such a juxtaposition, that church and the modern, neo-classical construct encircling it. We then exited via a different route and saw the old Communist headquarters. A ‘V’ shaped building facing west, it was imposing and impressive. South of it, on a plaza, was an old Orthodox church, now an archaeological museum. So we went in. 

75% of it was early Roman/Greek ruins. Statues, headstones, pots, carvings, coins. All very interesting. 25% was Christian Orthodox frescoes. Liam did ponder whether the building was Greek Orthodox (as the roof was glossed white, but cracks exposed some paintings underneath).We then departed and walked on the southern fork of the road split by the ‘Party HQ’, that took us to the largest Orthodox Church in the Balkans. It had a massive dome of gold, and was adjacent to the Assembly building. 

We then cut down a side street to the main shopping street, stopping for a blended ice coffee on the way. We walked up the shopping street to the main square, where we had lunch and cocktails for an hour, before heading back to our room. After our rest, we went over to the main hostel.

My Images of SEE – 22:57, Fri 12th August

One of my preparations was to exchange currency. With Euro’s for Ljubljana in tow, I decided to trade those in for Dinars now – as I will need them next week at any rate. So I spoke to the lady on reception to change my notes & to pay for the room. Her, and the guy with her, were both very polite. This proved by their help in calling the train station for me, to see if I needed to reserve a seat for the Nis to Sofia train (luckily we didn’t).

I then changed then packed. Liam went ahead, downstairs, to book a taxi to the train station. Whilst downstairs waiting, we could appreciate the views that the hotel boasted of the west of Nis – terracotta roofs flowing down the hill, to a green plain stretching out towards the airport.

Our taxi collected us, and delivered us to our destination for 200 Dinars. I asked a woman at the desk for the platform for the Sofia train. “1 or 3”. Great. So we waited on the platform. After 10 minutes a short train arrived. I asked a more official looking person. He said it wasn’t this one, but it would arrive in 25 minutes (that was its departure time). Anyway, we waited as the crowds grew for the train. 

When it did arrive, the embarkation was scruffy and there was a distinct lack of seats. So we perched in the gangway, forced to stand. However, we were next to an open window which was pleasant. This proved a plus over the first 2 hours of the journey, as the scenery was spectacular. 

Serbia is very green, hilly & mountainous, and dramatic. Its population is also sparse. We chugged along through wide, open valleys, and deep, narrow gorges. All in splendid sunny weather. The train itself was similar to last nights – 2 carriages of seats and one sleeper. It travelled (when it did) at approx 50 mph.

Before we got to the border, some seats came available so we grabbed them. At least we had comfort, although the water situation was looking tense. Anyway, the border control was quick on the Serbian side (unique?) but on the Bulgarian side it was a rather more sedate affair. I think we settled into the notion that we were always going to be late. 

By the time we left the Bulgarian side of the border, we were an hour late. However, the last leg of the journey went like a breeze. Bulgaria was a lot flatter, but agriculture was still dominant here.

We arrived at 19:00 at the dated, yet platformed, station. I got cash, and some liquid, and then we walked to the straight road that would take us to the hostel. At first, it looked grim but as you got further into town it became pleasant, and akin to Prenzlauer Berg in Berlin. After 20 minutes of back breaking walking, we found our location. Sort of. We went down the wrong way of the road, but returned and found our side door. Tucked behind old Soviet constructed façades, we witnessed a quaint old Inn. It was quiet, as it was off the street, but bustling, as there was a hive of activity. We went in and a woman welcomed us. She took our passports and aid to grab the complimentary pasta and beer whilst she sorted our stuff out. After a welcome refreshment, and catching 10 minutes on the wifi, the girl talked us through our accommodation, house rules & the city map.

A lad called Damien, of Sofian heritage but an English-speaking world upbringing, took us across the street to an apartment, which our room was in. It was lovely and big, but the fuchsia walls were garish. Once he left, we left for beers. However, once purchased, we saw a sign for McDonalds. So we followed our hunger the 500 meters to it, and then returned to fill ourselves and relax. A group of Spanish people returned, and offered us a drink. We politely refused, as we were shattered. We then slept.

My Images of SEE – 10:41, Fri 12th August

After coffee, we meandered our way back to the square, and to an Italian restaurant facing into the square. I had a pesto lasagne which was lovely. However we didn’t spend all of our time there, as we were harassed by a wasp. So we went over to Trend for a beer until 19:45. We then slowly walked back to the train station, bidding farewell to Skopje. We arrived at 20:10 and went direct to left luggage. We paid our 77 Denars and collected our belongings. We then went up to Platform 4. The train was already there, but the lights were out as people boarded. We just followed. The toilets look vile, however, in my condition, I think I can bear it. We found a cabin that was free and put our bags in the overhead holders. The cabin was old school in its set up. 3 chairs in a row, twice, with a sliding door and curtains to boot. It was dark outside now.

At 20:45 on the dot, we left. But that was about as much luck as we got last night. We had a nice and bouncy ride out of Skopje, when we suddenly stopped 10 minutes. 3 minutes later we continued, discovering our delay to be a road crossing. We bumped along to the border, 10 minutes late, and had our passports checked; the lady asked if we had anything to declare. 10 minutes later we stopped on the Serbian side. A repeat of the border procedure here too. Then we were still waiting. And waiting. The drilling began. About an hour later I saw, 2 carriages down, a worker drilling then climbing into the roof. They then came into our cabin. We had to move as they suspected something up in the roof. How odd. Didn’t look like there was enough room.

1 ½ hours later we had the all clear and departed. We were in a cabin with two local women, who Liam noticed were fascinated with my piercings. We then moved into another carriage as ours was shut off! So we knew that we would miss our connection, and confirmed this by the guard. So we sat there glum. It then dawned on us that we would need a hotel. So we fretted over that as the guidebook said that Nis train station was 2km out of the city.

At 03:05 we arrived at Nis. In vain, I asked if the Sofia train was late at the desk. It had gone. So we walked out of the station, and right, to the main road. It was quiet. We looked right and noticed two adverts for a hostel and a hotel. We opted for the hotel as it took credit cards. This was our 3^rd country, albeit unintentionally. We walked up a road off the main road; a wall had daubed on it a swastika. Our fears were raised. We then reached a junction, so decided on left. We then saw a pack of dogs. Fears raised more, but subsided once passed. The road was quiet and claustrophobic, and odd car would pass raising our heartbeats should they stop near us.

At another junction, we saw a sign with further directions to Hotel Tami. We walked 200m, then left at the lights for 1300m. We hugged a park to our left that curved left then straightened out. The odd car still passed, and we were now walking up hill. After what seemed like an eternity, we saw a sign pointing right. After 2 minutes up hill we saw in big red neon lights the hotel sign. What a relief. 

A fast pace took us to its doors. They had rooms, a twin, for €65 – excellent. It was 4* too! We handed over our passports then went upstairs to collapse. I returned to collect our passports and was relieved that they took Euro’s for Dinars. We drifted off at 04:30 until 09:00. We then had breakfast and prepared for the day.

My Images of SEE – 17:30, Thu 11th August

After another snooze at the hostel last night, I collected enough energy, and given enough prompting from Liam, to go out to eat. That was at 21:15. We walked along 11 October to the square. We just settled on the Pelister again. We sat down – busy as last night there too – and ordered a medium Margarita to share. We didn’t want to mis-judge the meal size again. So I managed a couple of slices and also some ice cream to cool my stomach. We then walked back to the hostel for 23:00. It was to be another restless night.

We woke up slowly at 08:00, and understood we had to pack. So we half did so, before we went out to the pharmacy 150 yards away to get medicine. Armed with my Eastern European phrasebook, I (hopefully) ordered the correct medication. We then went back, showered, then packed up. We left the key in the door to our room for our host then left. We walked to the train station where I again asked if the train to Nis. A different lady gave me the answer I wanted. “20:45, Platform 4” Excellent. And no need to book either.

We walked around the dark, dingy and altogether sinister train station to the baggage room. No-one was there, so we returned to the lady at the ticket booth. She said to go to the man at information. We did, and he off loaded our bags for us. He gave Liam a chitty and wrote down ‘YY’ that we interpreted as seventy seven to pay when we return. So we left the train station for the old train station, now home to the City of Skopje museum. 

Somewhat surprised that it was free, we appreciated a free visit. However, the exhibit was tiny. However it was informative about the earthquake and local archaeological finds. We then walked into the square, then left, to the post office. I then posted my postcard to Kirsty and Sean for 36 denars – bargain. I just made note of our progress, and where we were going to next.

I then walked Liam past the nearby Government buildings, who didn’t appreciate its architecture at all. Neither did I to be honest. We then turned a corner to observe the St Kliment Orthodox Church. Almost tent-like in its shape, the domes I felt owed more to the Ottoman Empire than any Christian theme. It was new however, and perhaps wanted to fit into its historical surroundings. 

We then went to a café between the river and the mall for a beverage. After that we ventured across the bridge again to the bazaar and beyond to the National Museum of Macedonia. Again, architecturally it looked more like a disused school, but inside this dated building were interesting documents on the history of Macedonia covering the last 150 years. 

A small section had archaeological finds. The other side of the building had the ethnographic exhibition. This I found the most interesting. It had 40 + mannequins of past national dress and small models of how houses and homes looked like in times past. 

Before leaving, the nearby Mustapha Pasha mosque began its call to prayer. It was an amazing experience. It felt far removed from ‘Europe’ but also fit in with our location. We then made our way further up to the Museum of Contemporary Arts. The exhibition was ‘Balkans: Love it or leave it’ and had some provocative pieces and some excellent political messages. One focused on the various names the ‘West’ cast him/her as ‘East Europe, Central Europe, South East Europe, Balkan’ all the while remaining in Bucharest. Very interesting. 

We took in the magnificent views of the city on this glorious day, then walked back down the hill to the square, and on to the Irish bar. Here we ate and had drinks for 2 hours, just to relax and use up our time. We then headed over to the Ramstore to buy some local wine to take home, and snacks for the train. I then exchanged 2,000 denars back for €30 and we then had coffee.

Thoughts on Karl Kasers' The Balkans and the Near East

Most texts that seek to provide an historical perspective tend to focus on a time span of no more than a couple of centuries, or focus on an area defined by modern state boundaries. Some may even focus on a ‘people’ and cover a more expansive time. Yet none attempt what Karl Kaser has, which is to tie together a shared history over an expansive area known as the Balkans and the Near East.

He diverges from the norm by his approach to time and space. The earliest time that the book covers is from the formation of sedentary communities; that time when nomadic communities began to remain in one place, usually due to agriculture and the domestication of animals. The geography covered avoids modern state boundaries, but focuses on the territorial extents of the former Byzantium and Ottoman Empires.  It is within these two demarcations that he writes his shared history of the region. Yet this notion of shared does not seek to account for similarities only. It also looks at how different areas within this region diverge from each other, and seeks to explain why it is they do.

An example of this would be his observation of preindustrial modes of economy. One group being tied to the land, and the other as roaming, highlights the difference between sedentary and nomadic peoples. But what makes a group stay or move can be for many reasons. Whether they deal with livestock or crops, whether the climate is arid or wet, the degree of contours to determine seasonal economy (shorter distances to higher climes can lead to a diverse economy all year round, as opposed to a seasonal economy); and from these, lead on to the need to develop new technologies for a non-suitable environment, different modes of exchange of commodities once people move to production for surplus, and new ways of structuring society.

This highlights Kaser’s style in the book. The focus on a theme usually covers a time from several millennia BC up to the time of one of the empires, aside from a couple - such as pre- and post-industrial economic structures. Others complement each other such as the section on ‘Migrations’ and a later one on ‘Demographic Developments’, or ‘Family and Kinship’ followed by ‘Gender Relations’. Only on a few occasions did you feel a sense of repetition, but the ability to weave in something already mentioned symbolises the unity of the themes, underscoring the objective of the book being that of a shared history, temporally, spatially and thematically.

One chapter stuck out for me especially; that on ‘The Relevance of Writing Systems’. This chapter reflected the writings of Michel Foucault in ‘The Order of Things’. In that, he looks at the development of language from an oral expression to indicate hunger in the guise of a whimper, via the growing development of complex oral sounds to indicate further things, to the ability to draw a mark (either on wall or in sand) abstractly to indicate an object or a motion; finally to reach a nuanced and diverse set of linguistics and literature the world over. Kaser looks at this development in the region, and places emphasis on the development of language, especially written language, for the Book religions. The script was meant to keep the message for eternity and remain unchangeable. Those able to read it had the power to interpret the messages so had considerable leverage. But even if the written text remained the same, the interpretation could alter – and thus lead to schism and separations. Kaser deals with the religions earlier in the book, but this provides a neat summing up of how world religions are divided within themselves.

The overall conclusion, which Kaser threads seamlessly through the entire book, finds its origins in the first chapter – ‘Power and Dominance’. What he observes is a shift of power and dominance, both in its geographic sense and in its content, over the time frame of the book. He sees this shift as moving away from the Near East toward the Atlantic overall, with the content of this power and domination gradually being asserted in the economic sphere. He pinpoints the 500 years from the 11^th century as the period where a turning point was reached. Accidental factors, developmental dynamics, and Eurasia Minor’s economic-spatial and socio-cultural handicaps (lack of natural resources, deteriorating agriculture, late coming to printing, thus knock on to education and knowledge economy) as internal and external forces, lent themselves to this shift.

Given the breadth of knowledge that the book attempts to cover in its geography and time, it does provide a rounded and novel approach to the history of a wide region often studied across factitious disciplines. Although the depth of knowledge is lacking, the further reading lists do allow the specialist to delve further into a specific theme. Overall it successfully compels the reader to think differently by forging two hitherto academically separated regions – Oriental and Occidental – into one innovative approach to history of such a diverse region.

My Images of SEE – 19:09, Wed 10th August

After waking up this morning, me and Liam went over to the train station. It was my understanding that we had to reserve seats. Upon arrival, I asked the lone worker if she spoke English. ‘A little’. Great. So I asked her if I have to reserve a seat to Nis. She said no. I then asked her what time the train was tomorrow evening. She replied with 9 o’clock. I thanked her then left. We noticed a left luggage room too, so we can use it tomorrow. Walking back to the hotel, to drop off the train tickets I took with me, I began to question her train time. So back at the hotel I checked. Indeed there was a train, but at 09:00! The evening train was at 20:45. Tomorrow a.m. I will ask again.

We then walked into town, to the square, then up to the Old Railway Station, now a museum, and went to the Ramstore. `Liam exchanged money, and we had a frappe each. Cold coffee is lovely. We then continued along this road, turning right at the European Union building. We then hit pedestrian roadworks, and with Liam wearing flip-flops, we danced around the road. We then turned right again and back to the square. We decided to cross the river over the (thrice?) re-build Roman bridge. Looking back at the square just reaffirmed my dislike of all the monuments being erected. 

We walked past an old Orthodox church on our left, and the Daut Pasha – the former bathhouses. We then walked up a hill, and this felt like a proper Ottoman experience. Low buildings, 2 storey’s, but lower than anything back home. The vendors putting their wares on display. The street, or lane, was cobbled, and it was a mixture of shops and café’s. Very quaint. We kept walking up until it became quiet. So we turned around, saw the sign for the Kale Fortress and wound round another lane to the right, before reaching the buttress of one of the towers. 

We followed a wall along to some steps and climbed them to an open park, with the walls stretching from left to right about 200 yards away. We walked up to a gate, then along the wall to the entrance. However, a man in a hut at the entrance squeezed the one word of English he knew. Closed. So we made out way past the Mustapha Pasha, down a straight road to steps that led to a ‘bridge’ over the bypass. It began to rain then. 

So we hurried, poor Liam in his flip-flops, to the Soviet shopping mall. After 20 minutes of wandering around, we located a café and ordered soft drinks. It was only 11:00. We left after 40 minutes, trying for a while to catch the waitress’s attention to pay. I was feeling exhausted with this stomach bug, so we went back to the hostel. I must have slept for 3 hours but intermittently woke up. I decided to eat the pretzels we bought at the Ramstore earlier to try and quell it.

After much cajoling by Liam, we left our hole to go to the Velo Centre, near the train station. Similar to the Ramstore, it had a supermarket, a food court and shops. I decided I needed salt, so we got some fries from McDonalds (Only 2 countries visited, and 2 McDonald’s to match). We then walked along the river, past the Irish pub in the shopping centre and the various bars and restaurants located between the Soviet-era construction and the river.

As I bought postcards, I wanted to cut across ‘Makedonija’ to the post office, but got cut short. So we went to a café call Trend. Funnily enough, it was where my colleague from my former employment and I had dinner 2 ½ years ago. We lazed there for an hour before heading back to the hostel.