“What next?” may not be an untimely question to ask as the map-makers scramble to keep up with the rush of events cascading a myriad of changes upon these custodians of the here and now. No sooner have they marked a new revision of a border, noted the latest alteration of a name or shift of a capital, than yet another tremor forces them to print anew a further updated edition to reflect the consequences of the most recent shock wave to effect an ever shorter status quo. Long gone are the days of Soviet “stability,” so long, in fact, that it is time to take stock and answer the gnawing question “Where are we?” more accurately than with the increasingly vague “In the ‘post-Soviet’ period.” “Quid tum? What next?” deserves a more precise reply.

Don—by which name I knew him since I became his graduate student in 1956—belonged to a rare breed of academicians: he was a devout man for whom the personal adventure of life and human history in its totality had a moral dimension; in his quest for understanding himself and others, there was always an underlying moral drama; there was not just the realm of the true and the false but also a fundamental layer of the right and the wrong. For Don, there was always the issue of good and evil. In the end, men and women, the lofty, such as Stolypin (about whom he wrote insightfully), and the humble, such as the Russian peasants in Siberia (to whom he also gave considerable scholarly attention), all were accountable for their individual and collective actions. We are all free moral agents, he observed, including Lenin (about whose early political struggles he wrote brilliantly). It is a perspective Don never abandoned as the Soviet Union dissolved into the amorphous and morally complex post-Soviet era, a characteristic which qualified Don as a persistent humanist. The individual human person endowed with the capacity to sustain immutable moral values was Don's ultimate interest as an historian and teacher.

The Crimean question developed as one of the major crises of the post-Soviet period among the two largest Slavic states of the former Soviet Union. It is an issue with several dimensions: the historical background; the case of the Crimean Tatars as an ipso facto aboriginal population deported en masse toward the end of the Second World War; the military-strategic question, with Crimea as the base for the Black Sea Fleet; economic and social developments; and the legality of the 1954 transfer of the peninsula from the Russian Soviet Federated Socialist Republic (RSFSR) to Ukraine in 1954.

1. Introduction

Until the October 1991 Soviet coup, Moldova, previously known as Bessarabia and the Moldavian Soviet Socialist Republic, had known independence only briefly, having been part of the Russian Empire, Romania, or the Soviet Union for almost its entire history. As a result of shifting foreign influences and borders, Moldova, like most modern political entities, has a multiethnic population. The conflicting perspectives and demands of Moldova's different ethnic groups underlie many of today's controversies.

With the recent attention given to the breakup of Yugoslavia, it is important to emphasize that the Serbs of Croatia and Hungary have always feared, rightly or wrongly, for their cultural, economic, and physical existence. The most prominent Serbian political parties in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries in the Habsburg monarchy staked their reputations on their ability to defend the Serbian nation from cultural assimilation. The parties examined in this article were no exception. They believed that their primary task was to assure the continued existence of a Serbian nationality in Croatia and Hungary. In this article, the politics surrounding the Serbian Orthodox church in the Habsburg monarchy will provide the framework for an analysis and comparison of the political strategies of the two largest Serbian parties in Croatia and Hungary, the Independent and Radical parties.

The Komi-Permiaks and Their Homeland

According to the Soviet 1989 census, there was a total of 496,600 Komis in the USSR. The nationality is composed of two main groups, closely related to each other ethnically, culturally and linguistically: the Komi-Zyrians and the Komi-Permiaks. The former are numerically larger, amounting to 344,500 in 1989, while the latter numbered 152,100. The status of the two as distinct ethnic groups is still debated, but in terms of territorial administration the two groups have been treated separately. The Komi-Zyrians have the Komi Republic as their titular unit, whereas the autonomy of the Komi-Permiaks is of lower rank, an autonomous okrug (area) within the Perm’ province. In line with the administrative separation, Soviet language planners classified the two groups’ languages as distinct ones.

J. V. Stalin, in his 1923 denunciation of Sultan Galiev, formerly Stalin's own assistant in Narkomnats, stated:

The social status of ethnic minorities residing in a state is one indicator of the level of democracy in each newly formed or restored democratic society.

Ever since the advent of perestroika and glasnost in the Baltic states in 1987–88, a heightened awareness of renewed state- and nation-building has prevailed. Regional politics and development acquired new life amid the officially proclaimed imperative of “restructuring.” Yet, it was really not until the re-establishment of independence in August 1991 that restructuring of state and society took on meaning and urgency. To be sure, the trappings required of a nascent state currently include legal frameworks and institutions to carry out basic functions. But, on a more profound level, there is also the question of assessing the societal foundation on which such a new structure would (should) rest. This issue represents a far more serious decision.