REFLECTIONS ON THE CAUCASUS
21 May 1864 - 2010
ANNSI KULLBERG
FINLAND
The occasion of the Circassian Memorial Day on 21 May brings to our minds some of the worst experiences of modern history. It is particularly important to remember the events known as the Circassian genocide in the latter half of the nineteenth century, because they were fully comparable, both in numbers and in proportions, to the catastrophes that later faced the Armenians and the European Jews, even though only the latter two remain widely known to the public. Several other nations, who similarly to the Circassians fell victim to the unscrupulous imperial policies, hold memorial days of their respective genocides or atrocities, such as the Chechens in February, the Armenians in April and the Assyrians in August.
Each one of these memorial days refers to similar disturbing developments due to the imperial policies that were endorsed since the late eighteenth century. The Jewish Holocaust is probably the best known example of the consequences that resulted from such policies. However, most of the other devastating events belonging to the same historical series of crimes took place on all the four sides of the Black Sea.
It could probably be said that the Reconquista of the Iberian Peninsula marked the beginning of a new kind of ethnic cleansing in Europe, with the expulsion and killing of Muslims and Jews in the fifteenth century. This was followed in the seventeenth century by the expulsion and killing of the Moriscos, former Muslims who had at least nominally converted to Christianity. Keeping the Iberian precedents in mind, the era of "modern" genocide in western Eurasia seem to have started on the other side of Europe, during Catherine II's reign, with the conquest of the Crimea by the Russian Empire in 1783. Long before that the Ottoman Empire, Russia's southern rival, had already turned the Crimean Khanate into their vassal, but the Crimean Tatars had not been subjected to forceful Turkification or ethnic cleansing as a result.
When the Russian tsarina's armies took over the Crimea, the Tatars still constituted 98 per cent of the population on the peninsula. Within days from the formal annexation of the Crimea to the Russian Empire – in late April 1783 – thousands of Crimean Tatar intellectuals, noblemen, officers and clerics were arrested, gathered to Karasubazar and executed. The banishment of the Crimean Tatar elite launched a period of systematic policy that aimed at complete destruction of the state structures of the Crimean Khanate as well as the Tatar society and culture. The act was similar in character and intention to the Katyn massacres of 22,000 members of the Polish elite by the Soviet Union in 1940.
The 1830s witnessed systematic and organized campaigns of confiscating and burning Crimean Tatar literature, books and manuscripts. More than 900 mosques and schools were abolished. As many as 75 per cent of the Crimean Tatars fled to the territories of the Ottoman Empire during the first three decades of the nineteenth century. The first half of the nineteenth century also saw the Russian conquest of the Caucasus.
At the time of the Crimean conquest, the prevalence of religious notions over national ones may have contributed to the fact that most Crimean Tatars opted for exile in Ottoman territories rather than large-scale resistance. However, this was not the case with the North Caucasians, who put up a fierce resistance against the invading Russians. Campaigns of terror and genocide as well as fierce resistance took place in Chechnya and Dagestan, where it continued until the capture of the most legendary leader of this resistance, Imam Shamil in 1859.
In 1860, the Russian Empire launched similar policies against Circassians to the west of the Chechens and Dagestanis. Prior to their persecution, the Circassian peoples inhabited and ruled the entire eastern coast of the Black Sea; from the Taman Peninsula to Abkhazia, in addition to the inland areas that extended east to the princedom of Kabarda.
The Circassians, who were fortified in their capital Sochi, appealed to Turkey and the Western powers for protection, but apart from symbolic gestures and references in literature, their appeals were ignored. Hundreds of thousands of Circassians had to flee from the conquered areas to the Ottoman Empire. Many settled in the area of current Turkey, forming a sizeable diaspora there, while others ended up far around the empire, in the Middle East, Iraq, Egypt and the Balkans.
In 1862, the campaign against Circassian populations included use of the notorious "fire and sword" tactics, something similar to what would later be known as "torched earth." Cavalry units and Cossacks were used to ravage the area, destroying villages, massacring, raping and looting, burning fields, granaries and gardens. Hundreds of thousands of Circassians perished as a result of famine, whilst others died on their desperate trails over the mountains into Turkey.
Russia finally crushed the Circassian resistance on May 1864, although it would still re-emerge many times over the following century, often in tandem with their eastern brethren the Chechens. Within four years, 1860—1864, an estimated one and half million Circassians were killed and around one million ended up in exile, mostly in the territories of the Ottoman Empire. (Exact numbers, as in the case of most atrocities in the region, remain disputed.)
Towards the end of the nineteenth century, similar purges that the Russian Empire had launched in the Crimea and the North Caucasus became increasingly common also in the south of this region in the eastern territories of the Ottoman Empire; increasingly nationalist Turkey launched pogroms and atrocities against the Christian populations of Anatolia, including Armenians, Assyrians and Pontic Greeks. Many of the Anatolian Christians were perceived as tools of Russian policies against Turkey, but similar to what happened in the Russian Empire, innocent civilians were branded and targeted, which led to devastating results.
Turks as well as other Muslims of the Balkans and the Caucasus were targeted, too, with hundreds of thousands killed or expelled. When many embittered populations ended up in exile, there were cases where the refugees, in turn, targeted minorities perceived as linked with their enemy, causing chain reactions of revenge. Over the same period Europe also saw the emergence of pogroms against Jews. All this formed a continuous trend over the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, reaching its peak in the industrialization of genocide by the Nazi and Soviet regimes.
Several factions on many sides committed crimes against other populations over this period. Entire nationalities, in areas where Christians and Muslims had previously coexisted for centuries, suddenly became victim to imperial rivalries. It was certainly not necessary to have hundreds of thousands, if not millions of people murdered and expelled for the sake of the general political and military circumstances that have often been used to justify previous atrocities. The great powers that took part in these imperial rivalries bear the biggest responsibility.
Those particular leaders, who were directly responsible for giving the orders that led to genocides around the Black Sea, the Caucasus and Anatolia in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, are no longer alive and cannot be brought to justice, and neither can the individuals who executed their orders. The same is true for the persons responsible for Nazi and Stalinist crimes. The fact that these people are dead should make it even less excusable for current leaders to avoid remembering and acknowledging the crimes that took place in the past, for which they cannot be blamed. Memory is part of human dignity. Therefore, remembering past injustices should not be seen as revenge or conspiracy against the states whose precursors were responsible for so much destruction. History deserves to be known to all.
Yet it raises concern if the issue of acknowledging historical truth is subjected to polling by foreign parliaments, since politicians would vote with limited or biased knowledge, and their vote would in many cases be based on motives qu ite different from historical facts. Many would vote from the platform of religious bigotry or great power rivalry. Therefore, such politicization of historical atrocities could open wounds rather than heal them, and repeat the policies that once led to these crimes rather than serve to prevent them from being repeated.
The least that states and political leaders today should do in respect to recognizing past crimes is to refrain from similar policies. Unfortunately, pogroms, ethnic cleansings and genocidal tendencies are still present in the conflicts of the twenty-first century, resulting in millions of refugees and internally displaced people. What happened to so many populations in the past also does not excuse them, or the states and leaders speaking on their behalf, from waging similar crimes against civilian populations today. National hatred is a dangerous double-edged sword, and therefore when generations change, reconciliation should prevail over revenge. Anssi KULLBERG, Analyst and co-founder of the Research Group for Conflicts and Terrorism in Turku, FINLAND. The article represents the author's opinions and does not necessarily reflect those of his current or former employers.
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ANTERO LEITZINGER
FINLAND
The Circassian genocide is certainly one of the least remembered genocides in world history. Of course it can not be called completely forgotten, as we would, logically, not be able to recall such a genocide in the first place. It is a universal tragedy, that nations get destroyed or diminished and dispersed throughout history, for various reasons and often with gravest injustice. So, is there something special in the fate of the Circassians, and can it be compared with the better-known repeated massacres of Armenians in 19th and early 20th century, with the pogroms and Holocaust of Jews, or with the erasing of several nations by Stalin?
In all fairness, we should avoid the temptation of a genocide rivalry. Nor should we spend too much energy for body counts or formal recognitions by political entities. Premeditated mass murder or reckless deportations of populations based purely on their nationality, regardless of sex and age or military considerations, is a crime against humanity no matter how long ago it was committed and how many families it affected.
The Circassians were a link in a chain reaction or vicious cycle of genocides around the Black Sea, maybe already starting from the mythical Troian War, but certainly during a century launched by the Crimean War. Their fate was not unique, but to acknowledge this and the historical connections between nations and tragedies in a wider region, does not in any way belittle the sufferings of individual Circassians or make them collectively less important as a study object. Actually, the way Circassians always interacted with neighbouring nations linguistically, religiously, politically, and culturally, stresses the need to understand their role in a broader context, as victims of a long-term homicidal strategy of political expansion.
Time should heal but not erase memories. Descendants of the victims in the 1860s should continue to cherish the memories of their ancestors, but also learn from their experience and teach solidarity between nations in similar circumstances. Instead of just bitterness and exclusivity, Circassians have a history of survival and interaction that deserves some merit. Already before the Crimean War, they had appealed for international recognition of their right to self-determination, and for European intervention. So did the Poles and Hungarians around the same time. Today, many other nations - Chechens, Uyghurs, Tibetans, etc. - may face the risk of (sometimes slower but nevertheless equally tragic) annihilation, and Circassian studies should be of interest for all of them. That way, Circassians of the 1860s did not fight and die in vain, but their example might still save lives by raising important issues of ethics, touching the conscience of distant people, and paving the way for a better understanding and handling of the root causes of genocidal politics.
In a way, reflecting the words of President John F. Kennedy on the Berlin Wall almost half a century ago, we are all Circassians. Antero LEITZINGER. Political historian and researcher for the Finnish Immigration Service. He is the author of "Caucasus—An Unholy Alliance." He is a history researcher on topics from Russia to Islam. FINLAND.