Originally published on Global Voices

Screenshot of the Russia Post website. Fair use.

This article by sociologist Anna Kuleshova, writing for Russia Post, spotlights Russian artists in exile, who, while dealing with the challenges faced by all emigrants, have managed to unite many of their compatriots living abroad and are changing the public image of their home country. An edited version is republished by Global Voices with permission from Russia Post.

In the interviews I conduct with Russians who left their country after the start of the Ukraine war, one of the frequent and painful stories is that of losing or changing professions in emigration.

Who needs Russian-language art outside of Russia? How is it even possible if the country has been “cancelled?”

There are several million Russians living outside of Russia, including emigrants from different historical periods and their descendants. This is several million potential Russian-speaking consumers of cultural products, not to mention those who left after the start of the war and so-called “partial mobilization,” as well as foreigners who are interested in Russian art, even if it is not their native language.

Russians outside of their country do not always form neat diasporas and sometimes do not communicate with one another at all. In France, a respondent told me about a problem that he encountered at a wedding; it turns out that you cannot seat Russians from different waves of emigration at the same table, lest a scandal should erupt.

Often, Russian communities in host countries are virtual, forming around Telegram chats, as well as professional identity (“IT workers”) and volunteer assistance. In other cases, what brings them together are the stage, art spaces and creative projects.

Because Russians do not live compactly in a single place, artist groups in exile are forced to drop any dreams of having their own venue and performing on the main stage and “Uberize” their contact with the audience. “You need theater? We will come to you.”

The latest wave of Russian emigration is sometimes compared with the White exodus after the Bolshevik Revolution, and it is expected to bring no less benefit to the host countries than those who left a century ago.

Back then, for example, Serbia emerged as a major beneficiary, with architects, doctors and other specialists from Russia flocking there. Today, Montenegro and Armenia have received significant economic benefits from the Russian IT sector. France and the UK issue talent visas to Russians, still remembering the cultural influence of those like Mikhail (“Michael”) Chekhov and Nikita Balieff, among many others.

The high expectations are partially justified: Russian emigrants contribute to scientific research in host countries, as well as such areas as evidence-based medicine, the IT sector and the creative industry. New theaters have emerged abroad, such as The Chaika, which in its first season put on 38 performances in Lisbon, Paris and Luxembourg (this author helped organize the tour in Luxembourg).

This troupe, like their predecessors a century ago, preserves Russian culture — that part of it that first, the Soviet government tried to ban and now independent Russia is trying to “cancel.”[GV: Meaning people who oppose the government but have a lot to contribute]

Such Russian-speaking cultural communities are being supported not only by emigrants from earlier waves, patrons of the arts, charitable foundations and local governments but also by highly educated professionals who have recently left Russia.
One of my interviewees in Armenia told me that he and his colleagues had created an artist collective whose business idea was piano, vocal and painting lessons. When asked about the target audience, he said they were counting on IT specialists and their families, who, having left the familiar educational and cultural milieu of Russian big cities (“millioniki”), are searching for a replacement in their new places of residence.

New social circles often form around artists in exile, offering emigrants a chance to connect with like-minded people and escape loneliness, anxiety and fear. They attract those who define themselves not only as Russians but also as “people with a common destiny.”

Those artists who, though rejecting the official ideology of modern Russia, have decided not to emigrate are helping their antiwar and antiregime compatriots inside the country to survive these hard times: people unite around “their” musicians and artists at private art venues and play readings, while also following the creative projects of Russians who left.

Artists who find themselves outside of Russia are not always able to put aside fear and feel free. The official Russian press often writes about them in offensive, threatening language.

Most Russians of the latest emigration wave left with only their “internal” Russian documents — without passports of other countries, a financial cushion or an idea of where they would work (except for IT specialists, many of whom were relocated abroad by their employers). Art workers are no exception.

Typically, emigrants have relatives and property back in Russia, which makes them vulnerable to the authorities.

In addition, the policies of host countries can change unpredictably, forcing Russians to move out (for example, Turkey has been clamping down on immigration). My interviewees have lived in an average of three to four countries in the last two and a half years.

It is impossible to be sure that you will not suddenly find yourself without a valid residence permit or access to money (for example, foreign banks have refused to service clients from Russia for fear of secondary sanctions). If you fail to find a stable job abroad, you will have to return to Russia. The same is true if your “internal” passport expires, as you can only get a new one in Russia — Russian embassies issue only “foreign” passports.

And the hardest choice of all: a relative or friend falls ill, and you need to go back, but you have already written a lot online condemning the regime and the war.

Against this backdrop, artists find themselves in a particularly precarious situation, especially if they are not stars or part of famous troupes, like the singers Zemfira and Monetochka, director Kirill Serebryannikov or comedian Viktor Shenderovich.

Russian emigrants in general and their host countries expect artists to take a bold and public stand against the war, but lesser-known artists and new artist collectives are racked by insecurity: they face the task not only of reaching their artistic potential but also of just surviving each day, meaning obtaining legal status in their host country. Meanwhile, it usually takes at least five years to obtain citizenship of another country, only after which exiled Russians feel secure and free from dependence on Russia.

Despite all these challenges, it is contemporary Russian art in exile that is becoming the public face of the Russia that is banned in its homeland, persecuted by the Russian authorities and reviled by Kremlin propagandists. Art in exile reminds the world that — like any other country — Russia is multifaceted, and even in the most difficult situations, there are people with whom dialogue is possible.

Written by Russia Post

Originally published on Global Voices

Screenshot from Facebook page of the Minister of the Interior and Chairman of liberal political party STAN, Vít Rakušan “We don’t want Matryoshka in the Czech Republic.” Fair use.

The Czech government’s recent proposal to restrict citizenship applications for Russian nationals has sparked significant controversy. At the beginning of September 2024 Czech liberal party STAN (Mayors and Independents) proposed in a press release an amendment to the so-called Lex Ukraine 7 law to impose stricter conditions for Russian nationals seeking Czech citizenship.

This proposal comes at a politically charged time, as the Czech Republic prepares for its parliamentary elections in 2025. STAN is part of the government, run by a  ruling coalition which, facing declining approval ratings, appears to be leveraging populist rhetoric to solidify its position. Furthermore, the presence of nearly 350,000 Ukrainian refugees in the country has heightened public sensitivity to issues of migration, citizenship, and security. Critics argue that while the Czech government has extended remarkable support to Ukrainian refugees, the proposed amendment reveals a double standard in its treatment of Russian nationals.

The Minister of the Interior and Chairman of STAN, Vít Rakušan, shared on social media a post symbolizing the proposal with an image of matryoshka dolls captioned: “We don’t want Matryoshka in the Czech Republic.” This statement drew parallels to a previous populist slogan by an Islamophobic group “We don’t want Islam in the Czech Republic,” which hit peak popularity a decade ago.

Under the proposed amendment, Russian citizens must renounce their Russian citizenship to be eligible for Czech citizenship. Martin Exner, STAN’s deputy chairman, justified it as a purported necessity for national security, stating:

We cannot allow that at a time when Russia is taking hostile actions not only against Ukraine, but also against us and other EU countries, its citizens can acquire Czech citizenship, and therefore all the rights related to it.

In another statement for Radio Prague International, he added that “the right to Czech citizenship is not a human right.”

While national security concerns are a valid justification for certain policies, critics argue this proposal raises serious questions about the Czech Republic’s commitment to democratic principles and its treatment of minorities. Combining the voices of affected individuals with insights from commentators, the law’s implications extend beyond security, concerns revealing troubling failures in Czech liberalism and the opportunistic nature of its current political establishment.

Voices from the Russian community 

The amendment has left many the approximately 40,000 Russian residents of the Czech Republic feeling alienated and betrayed. These are not anonymous faces but well-integrated members of society who have built lives, families, and careers in the country.

Some members of the Russian community in Czech Republic are exiles who escaped Russia because they disagree with the Putin regime.

The activist group Jsme Lidé (We Are People) has created a website and organized petitions against such an amendment, stating that “We are not matryoshkas. We are people.” They have also held peaceful demonstrations and public events, spoken up for the cause, raised charities, and communicated with lawyers, legislators, and journalists.

Screenshot from webpage Jsmelide.cz. Fair use.

Global Voices interviewed some activists raising awareness of the dangers of such an amendment’s human cost, revealing the fear, uncertainty, and resentment it has sparked within the community.

Daria, an accountant who has lived in Prague for 10 years, highlights the amendment’s impracticality and its moral implications, feeling herself being treated by politicians as disposable:

I love it here. This is my home. I work, pay taxes, and have built my life here. Mr. Exner says that “ordinary Russians don’t need to be afraid of anything, they can perfectly fine live with a permanent residence permit in the Czech Republic,” however, he then mentions that in the case of conflict escalation with Russia, Russian citizens may and would be send out back to Russia. To the country I have no literal ties with. You cannot do the same thing with a Czech citizen. Mr. Exner, do you still think there is nothing to be afraid of? Do not answer, please, I already know what you are about to say.

Christina, a 28-year-old professional, working in an international company echoes similar concerns. “The amendment threatens my ability to connect with my family in Russia and my ability to live in the country I call home.” For her, Russian citizenship is her tie to her childhood, and her home, but “Czechia has become my home too.” She points out that there is no guarantee that she won't be forced to leave Czech territory, abandoning her husband and child.

 A 26-year-old doctor Taisiia Fedorkova, who graduated from Charles University and works now at Mulacova Nemocnice at the general medicine department and who is married to a Czech citizen, points out the amendment’s divisive consequences, feeling that it paints all people from Russia as enemies. She says that, aside from making her insecure about her future and not having the same citizenship as her children, her husband's family does not understand the need for it.

Andrey, 42-year-old analytical professional with a PhD from the UK, who relocated to the EU via the Blue Card program and works in a leading manufacturing company in the Czech Republic, fears the amendment signals a dangerous legislative trend for other national minorities living in the Czech Republic as well.

Populism and the failure of Czech liberalism?

The amendment has drawn sharp criticism from commentators and analysts; many view it as emblematic of a broader failure within the Czech political establishment.

Journalist Ondřej Soukup argued that the amendment does more harm than good by alienating those who oppose the current Russian regime. He noted that the law plays directly into Russian propaganda, which seeks to portray the West as hostile toward ordinary Russians.

A commentary by Robert Havlíček, research fellow at the Association for International Issues (AMO) highlights the Czech government’s failure to uphold its liberal ideals, citing that even the Czech Ombudsman office criticized it as dangerous. He emphasized that the proposal undermines the Czech Republic’s reputation as a defender of human rights and democracy.

Even within the Czech political landscape, the move has been criticized for its shortsightedness. “Instead of addressing security threats through robust intelligence and targeted measures, the government has opted for a blanket policy that discriminates against an entire group of people,” a Radio Prague International commentary noted.

A turn towards far-right rhetoric

The amendment also reflects a surprising shift in the Czech political establishment toward far-right rhetoric. While the country has long been seen as a bastion of liberal democracy in Central Europe, this proposal suggests a departure from those values.

Yet critics argue this move is less about security and more about securing votes. As Daria put it:

This isn’t about protecting the country — it’s the usual political populism. [The ruling party] is trying to win votes with such a cheap trick, understanding that it will lose the next elections.

Just in case Mr. Exner has never heard of it, when applying for citizenship, the candidate is checked up and down by the Czech secret services.

Exner’s remarks that “ordinary Russians have nothing to fear” contrast starkly with the realities faced by Russian residents who fear deportation or losing their homes. Christina, who had been helping some of them voice their concerns through translation, explains that they  have already faced hostility, with some receiving threatening messages on social media.

Besides its discriminatory approach, the proposed amendment is in many cases impractical. To renounce Russian citizenship, individuals are required to travel to Russia and complete the process in person — an impossible or dangerous task for many. Numerous Russians in the Czech Republic are vocal anti-Putin activists, journalists — such as Irina Dolinina, Farida Kurbangaleeva, and Svetlana Prokopyeva — and dissidents who have sought refuge in this country due to fear of persecution. This requirement effectively alienates those who actively defend democratic values and participate in Czech civil society.

The proposed amendment to restrict citizenship for Russian nationals represents a critical test of the Czech Republic’s democratic values. Will the country uphold its liberal principles of inclusion and fairness, or will it succumb to the pressures of populism and fear?

Written by Elmira Lyapina

Originally published on Global Voices

Photo featuring the term ‘hate speech’ in Albanian, generated with artificial intelligence in Canva by the Portalb.mk team. Used with permission.

This article by Despina Kovachevska was originally published by Meta.mk. An edited version is republished here under a content-sharing agreement between Global Voices and Metamorphosis Foundation. 

The deputy prime minister for good governance policies of North Macedonia, Arben Fetai, announced on his Facebook profile that he received a death threat on his official email on November 8, 2024. In less than half a day, media outlets reported on his status along with verbatim hate speech quotes in the headlines of their articles, writes Portalb.mk.

This is not the first time the media has carelessly published politicians’ statements without critically analyzing them, using the situation to generate sensationalism and boost their viewership. Such journalism has numerous harmful consequences, and in this case, it has only amplified and spread the hateful message promoting killing of members of an ethnic group throughout the media.

The news was first published on Alsat quoting the entire threatening message in the article’s title, without providing any context or critical view of the event.

Screenshot of media article containing direct quote of hate speech in the headline: “BULLET IN THE HEAD FOR YOU SHIPO FETAI” / Deputy PM Arben Fetai's life threats.”

Anti-Albanian hate speech often uses the term “shiptar” or variants, like “shipo,” which is based on debasement for the Albanian term for Albanian, “shqiptar.” It is considered derogatory in a similar manner to the N-word in the US.

On the media aggregator Time.mk, one can see that out of several articles that report on the event, half of them contain the same threatening message in the title and thus fuel hate speech even more, especially in the comments below the news.

Although most media outlets do this to get clicks, this practice contributes to hate messages becoming dominant in the media sphere, increasing the risk of supporting negative and dangerous tendencies in society.

Hate speech is an increasingly common phenomenon on the internet, especially in comments on social media. Media outlets, instead of critically reporting on this phenomenon, are becoming the main spreaders of such messages.

This is the second instance of hate speech within one week conveying the same message, this time scrawled on the wall of a building in front of the Constitutional Court of North Macedonia in Skopje. Although the graffiti was removed by November 1, after the Portalb.mk team alerted the Ministry of Internal Affairs, the situation became much more complicated online.

Hate speech graffiti in Skopje, North Macedonia, with the text ‘DEAD SHIPTAR!!!’ painted across the entrance of the Constitutional Court of the Republic of North Macedonia. Photo by Portalb.mk, used with permission.

While the swift response from institutions is a positive example of taking action against the spread of hate in physical spaces, the lack of regulation in the digital realm remains a significant issue.

In the online realm, aggressive and harmful expressions of hatred and misinformation often remain unpunished for extended periods, with mechanisms for swift removal being notably inadequate. What is lacking are concrete and effective strategies to monitor and eliminate harmful content on the internet. While laws and regulations, such as the Digital Services Act, can help manage this area, they also require active participation from social media platforms and society as a whole in the battle against hate and misinformation online.

The media plays a key role in polarizing societies

Frequently repeating the same message can have negative effects, particularly in media coverage during emotionally charged and politically divided times. When society is polarized, the media are often compelled to take sides or favor one narrative over another, which can further entrench preexisting divisions.

In such conditions, the media should take responsibility for balancing narratives and work to reduce divisions by focusing on constructive dialogue, fact-checking and objective reporting. It is also important to develop mechanisms that will protect the media from political or economic influence and encourage journalists to commit to ethical reporting.

The media are not merely messengers of information; they serve as interpreters and curators, selecting and framing content to help audiences make sense of complex issues.

The media landscape in the Western Balkans is highly polarized, with close ties between media ownership and political elites fostering an environment where investigative journalism is rare, and self-censorship is pervasive. These dynamics significantly undermine the media's role as a democratic watchdog, limiting its capacity to hold power accountable and promote informed public discourse. Instead of challenging entrenched power structures, many media outlets serve as tools for political propaganda or profit-driven sensationalism.

No meaningful response to hate speech

Hate speech, both online and in public spaces, remains a pressing issue in the region. Despite the existence of legislation criminalizing hate speech, institutional responses are often inadequate. Enforcement is inconsistent, selective, or entirely absent, which emboldens perpetrators and allows harmful rhetoric to permeate public discourse unchecked.

In our experience, despite reporting multiple instances of cybercrimes involving hate speech, we have received no meaningful response or action from relevant institutions. This lack of accountability not only undermines trust in the system but also enables hate speech to flourish, further polarizing society and marginalizing vulnerable groups.

Hate speech coming from the media has a major impact on everyday life, as the media not only shapes public opinion and attitudes but also influences social values, policies, and identities. When the media spreads hate speech or reinforces divisions, it can have serious consequences.

Such speech is harmful to society and can manifest itself in different ways, from direct insults and discrimination to less visible forms of hatred, such as microaggressions and stereotyping. It can often have a destructive effect on individuals, communities, and the whole of society.

Written by Metamorphosis Foundation

Originally published on Global Voices

Entrance to a high school in Skopje, North Macedonia. Photo by Meta.mk, used with permission.

This article is based on coverage by Meta.mk. An edited version is republished here under a content-sharing agreement between Global Voices and the Metamorphosis Foundation. 

The Network for Protection Against Discrimination (NPAD) issued a press release on November 5, expressing concern over the possibility of adoption of draft laws for primary and secondary education which, according to them, would mean backsliding rather than progress in the protection of students from discrimination and violence within the educational process in Republic of North Macedonia (RNM).

The network states that the draft laws, contrary to established legal hierarchy, remove the protected characteristics “gender,” “gender identity,” and “sexual orientation.” According to them this is the first case of backsliding in regard to protection from discrimination in the Macedonian legislation.

Meta.mk interviewed competent officials in the Ministry of Education and Science (MES), as well as representatives of the network, who stated that the draft legislative changes enable gross violation of the rights of children, directly endangering their mental and physical integrity. Their reaction noted:

When institutions systematically exclude and erase certain groups of students, then they directly send a signal encouraging further exclusion and oppression of these groups in society. Additionally, such acts provide a signal to the aggressors, who inflict violence against women, girls and LGBTI+ students, that their actions are an extension of the institutional treatment of these groups, normalizing their violent behavior. By adopting these changes, the laws on primary and secondary education will become contrary to the provisions and the spirit of the Law for Prevention and Protection from Discrimination, which recognizes gender, sexual orientation and gender identity as bases for discrimination.

In addition, Maja Atanasova from NPAD told Meta.mk that, since they issued their reaction, the minister for education and science, Vesna Janevska, received their delegation in a meeting at the MES. Atanasova explained:

The minister was open for discussion, but at the meeting they stated they will not back down on their decision. The minister has previously stated that since the protections based on these characteristics has been covered by the Law for Prevention and Protection from Discrimination, the erased protected characteristics will remain in force through the open clause “and others.” Therefore, strictly legally speaking, the protections remain; however the amended laws would not be harmonized with the Law for Prevention and Protection from Discrimination, which violates the constitutional guarantees for respect of hierarchy of the laws. The problem is that laypersons, who are not trained legal professionals or jurists, would not read the whole legislative framework, but just open the particular law and realize that these grounds are not covered. This increases the risk for schools not to recognize the need to create mechanisms for protection from discrimination based on these characteristics, even though the statistics provided by the Commission for Protection and Prevention Against Discrimination indicate a serious need.

Minister Janevska has reiterated those positions in an interview with Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty published on November 3.

Vesna Janevska, Minister of Education and Science of Republic of North Macedonia. Photo by Meta.mk, used with permission.

Да не биде недоразбирање, на крајот на реченицата има ’и друго‘ што опфаќа секаков вид на дискриминација. Не знам зашто би требало да го оптоваруваме законот и да ги набројуваме сите видови дискриминации кои постојат, затоа што тоа е номо-техника…

To avoid misunderstanding, I have to note that at the end of the sentence there's “and others” which covers all kinds of discrimination. I don't know why we should burden the law and list all kinds of discrimination that exist, because that's part of nomothetic [expertise pertaining to creation of legislation]…

Representatives of Ministry of Education and Science told Meta.mk on email that they work on upgrading the legislative framework in the area of education and include all stakeholders in the process. According to them:

We especially value public opinion and that’s why we opened public discussion regarding six legislative solutions. We prepared draft-versions which we published on the government ENER system [Unique National Electronic Register for Regulations of the RNM] enabling comments with additional suggestions and proposals. The laws for primary and secondary education are defined in such a way to protect the students from any kind of discrimination, from segregation, and from various program or project activities which are not defined as part of the official curricula, and can harm their development and orientation. However Macedonia has a separate Law for Prevention and Protection from Discrimination in all segments, which means it covers education system also, and it can be applied under any circumstances.

They also clarified that the draft laws for primary and secondary education will be further forwarded to the parliamentary procedure, where the MPs will have opportunities to further amend a more perfect contents.

It’s especially important that MES will not only provide legal protection of students from discrimination and segregation, but that in the upcoming period it will work with the schools and the civil sector on preventive activities and education of students towards respecting diversity and building a peaceful, harmonious and safe studying environment. The minister discussed with the civic associations about these aspects of the education system at a meeting.

The reaction of the NPAD also includes the commitment of the government to implement the obligations imposed through the judgement of the European Court for Human Rights in the case of Elmazova and others vs North Macedonia. This judgement forced the institutions in North Macedonia to upgrade the legislative framework to prevent discrimination against the Roma.

However the network noted that the draft laws contain elements which don’t refer to that verdict, while directly and unequivocally representing violations of the international law and the human rights.  

We remind that all freedoms and rights that the state has guaranteed to the citizens by ratification of international conventions are considered freedoms and rights guaranteed as fundamental value of the constitutional order. The General Comments of the Committee on the Rights of the Child, the Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities, the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination against Women (CEDAW) in its general recommendations, the Council of Europe Convention on Preventing and Combating Violence Against Women and Domestic Violence — have all been ratified and therefore have the same legal force as the existing laws in this Republic. Based on this, we must not allow adoption of laws which are in contrast to the ratified international conventions.

Previously, on November 1, the Gender Equality Platform, composed of 21 civil society organization working in this area, strongly reacted to the MES proposal to amend the laws on primary and secondary education by removing gender, sexual orientation and gender identity as protected characteristics, and replacing them with the words “equal opportunities.” They noted that these acts send a “clear message that certain groups are not protected from discrimination, even in the most sensitive areas of society, such as public education.”

Written by Metamorphosis Foundation

Originally published on Global Voices

Glade Taulu, the confluence of the Sofia and Psysh rivers. Arkhyz, Karachay-Cherkessia, Western Caucasus, Russia. Image by Vyacheslav Argenberg via Wikimedia commons. CC BY 4.0.

As of November 2024, in the ongoing Russian–Ukrainian war, approximately 200 people from Kabardino-Balkaria, 150 from Karachay-Cherkessia, and 200 from the Republic of Adygea, along with about 250 Chechens and 910 Dagestanis, have reportedly died, according to publicly available data. All of them hail from the North Caucasus region of Russia, the most “Muslim” part of the country. To what extent these figures may underestimate the actual numbers is unknown.

The proportion of people conscripted into the war from the North Caucasus appears disproportionate. The mortality rate — the number of deaths per 10,000 men aged 16 to 61 — is 8 in Kabardino-Balkaria, 11 in Karachay-Cherkessia, and 14 in Adygea. For comparison, this figure is 2 in Moscow and 4 in Saint Petersburg, even though Moscow's population is six times larger than the combined populations of these three Caucasian republics. The participation of Caucasian peoples in this war is especially contradictory, given their historical traumas — from the brutal expansion of the Russian Empire and forced deportations during the Soviet period to present-day repression by the Kremlin. While the region may appear loyal to central authority, achieving this appearance has taken the Kremlin two centuries of repression.

The North Caucasus was conquered in 1864 after a century-long Caucasian War — the longest in the history of the Russian Empire. The war ended in mass killings and the expulsion of approximately one million Circassians to the Ottoman Empire. As a result, the majority of the Circassian people live outside their historical homeland, with only a minority remaining on their indigenous land.

This event is referred to in Russian historiography as the “Circassian Muhajirism” (“Circassian Pilgrimage”). However, among Circassians outside Russia, especially in Turkey and the Middle East, it has long been called the “Circassian Genocide” (“The Tlapserykh” or “Tsitsekun”). As of 2024, only Georgia officially recognizes the mass deportation of Circassians as genocide. Similar recognition is now being considered by Ukraine: in June 2024, reports emerged that Ukraine's Verkhovna Rada would consider a resolution to recognize the genocide of Circassians during the Caucasian War of 1763–1864 by the Russian Empire. However, the project of “Ukrainian irredentism,” which aims to claim not only the annexed Crimea and the so-called DPR/LPR but also the Kuban region as historically Ukrainian, has a complicated relationship with the Circassian national project, as both lay claim to the same indigenous lands.

Global Voices spoke with renowned journalist and human rights activist Murat Temirov, an ethnic Circassian from Russia, about how Circassians maintain connections despite being scattered across the world, whether there is a unified Circassian national movement, and what its goals are. Journalist Alexandra Sharopina contributed to the interview's edits. 

Global Voices (GV): Can Circassians maintain national unity despite being scattered across the globe?

Murat Temirov (MT): Yes, a certain connection is maintained, though not necessarily unity.  This connection among Circassians is preserved not only through language, norms of behavior, and traditional clothing but also through a shared tragedy.

The mass deportation, essentially genocide, carried out by the Russian Empire against the Circassians in the 18th and 19th centuries — when Circassians were expelled from their native lands and replaced with loyal populations — serves as a point of consolidation for Circassian identity.

Any Circassian in the world, from Australia to Canada, will tell this story in more or less detail.

The shared identity of the Circassians persists, in part, due to this tragedy. However, I believe it is not entirely beneficial that this tragedy anchors their collective focus in the past. A healthy community should aim toward something more, toward achieving victory.

GV: Is there a unified Circassian movement in the diaspora? Are its goals focused on repatriation and reclaiming indigenous status?

MT: No, there is no unified movement. There are fragmented organizations, often based on regional or local associations. In Turkey, for instance, there are numerous influential organizations like Kafkas Vakfı and Çerkes Vakfı. They are influential but largely avoid engaging in current political matters.

There have been attempts to create a unified pan-Adyghe movement. Three years ago, I proposed holding a Unified Circassian Congress in Belgrade. We began preparations but did not complete them.

From my perspective, creating a unified Circassian movement under current circumstances is impossible. I once had the idea of establishing a Circassian Analytical Center to regularly provide these fragmented organizations with materials and recommendations on key issues involving actors like Ukraine, the United States, and the United Kingdom. This analytical center would have been the first step toward a Circassian movement because analysis must precede action. However, this idea has not yet garnered support or been realized.

The right of Circassians to return to their native lands will only be possible with recognized statehood. There are certainly ideas for restoring statehood, but their realization would only be feasible in the context of a global war, requiring military force — which does not currently exist.

GV: Is it true that the Circassian national project conflicts not only with Russia's neo-imperial ambitions but also with the radical Ukrainian nationalist project, which claims Kuban as solely Ukrainian land, excluding Circassians?

MT: Yes, that is true.  On Circassian lands, those we now call Ukrainians appeared relatively late, just over 200 years ago. These events are well-documented in Russian and non-Russian historical sources.

The so-called Kuban Ukrainians are natural competitors for us. They seized our lands and consider them theirs, with Zelenskyy almost declaring them exclusively Ukrainian. I personally see them as no less dangerous rivals than the Russians.

Yes, this is a global redivision, a world war; it is inevitable, and it is unclear who else will lay claim to our land. However, the fact that we were expelled gives us the right to this land because such a crime has no statute of limitations, and sooner or later, there will be accountability. If not the current perpetrators, then their descendants.

GV: What is your position regarding the Ukrainian Rada's proposal to recognize the Circassian genocide, considering the issues we have discussed?

MT: Yes, I’ve heard this news. It is not yet clear in what form this recognition will come — as a law? I’m not sure Ukraine is prepared to take such a large-scale step, so I believe it will likely be a declaration similar to the one adopted by the Georgian Parliament, without legal consequences.

I, of course, welcome this step by the Ukrainian authorities but do not expect it to bring significant improvements for Circassians in their efforts to reunite on their homeland.

On the contrary, I fear that this move might stigmatize Circassians within Russia, portraying them as collaborators with the enemy. Both Georgia and Russia tend to remember the Circassians when they are in a difficult position. For Georgia, this happened after their defeat in the 2008 war with Russia.
Such declarations often have internal political motivations and are only distantly related to the Circassians themselves.

Written by Ramil Niyazov-Adyljan

Originally published on Global Voices

A scene from the documentary “Sky Above Zenica.” Photo by Emir Džanan via OBC Transeuropa. Used with permission.

This interview with the directors of the documentary “The Sky Above Zenica” Zlatko Pranjić and Nanna Frank Møller, and Professor Samir Lemeš from Eko Forum Zenica was conducted by Anna Lodeserto and first published by Osservatorio Balcani e Caucaso Transeuropa (OBC Transeuropa). An edited version has been republished by Global Voices under a content sharing agreement.

Bosnia and Herzegovina (BiH) is still facing severe environmental and socio-political degradation stemming from the aftermath of the Balkan Wars, unchecked resource exploitation, limited environmental awareness among political elites, and lax regulation, all worsened by climate change, as visibly seen in the increasing floods in Central Bosnia. Industrial pollution, plastic waste-clogged rivers, habitat destruction from hydropower projects, and deforestation of ancient sites threaten both human health and the regional ecosystems. Local environmental organizations and activists are engaged in a continuous, often dangerous struggle against powerful polluters and government inaction, with Zenica, a city spotlighted in the acclaimed documentary movie “Nebo iznad Zenice” (“The Sky Above Zenica,”) emerging as a symbol of this fight for environmental justice.

At the 30th Sarajevo Film Festival, the 2024 Human Rights Day screenings of the movie, directed by Zlatko Pranjić and Nanna Frank Møller (Denmark, Bosnia and Herzegovina, 2024), played to sold-out audiences and received critical acclaim. The film sheds light on the industrial pollution and government neglect plaguing Zenica and its residents, while highlighting the bravery of local citizens fighting for change. OBC Transeuropa spoke with the directors and Professor Samir Lemeš, an environmental advocate and University of Zenica lecturer, and also a co-founder of Eko Forum Zenica, about the making of the film, its impact, and its broader significance on a global scale.

OBC  Transeuropa (OBCT): Why is “The Sky Above Zenica” such an important film for Bosnia and the world?

Samir Lemeš (SL): This film is essential for us and worldwide because it shifts the issue from a local to a global stage. It is now available also on streaming platforms, meaning people worldwide can learn about our struggles, which parallel those of other communities facing pollution from multinational corporations elsewhere. The corporation highlighted in the film, which has massive operations in many other countries — like for example Belgium, Germany, Italy and France — adheres to stricter environmental standards elsewhere due to EU regulations. Yet here in Bosnia and Herzegovina, pollution is far more severe because regulations are lax. Also, the film puts a clear pressure on investors and stakeholders. The corporation’s annual revenue is nearly 20 times our country’s budget, making it more powerful than our government. To bring about change, we must appeal to stronger entities, such as banks that fund these corporations. By highlighting the issue, the film encourages financial institutions to demand better environmental practices.

OBCT: How did local activism grow to this level, and what impact do you hope it will have?

Zlatko Pranjić (ZP): Local activism has been crucial. The activists in Zenica are not affiliated to popular international organizations like Amnesty International, Greenpeace or similar ones; they are ordinary people with limited resources. Yet, they have managed to confront global corporations and challenge complicit politicians who hand over our resources without environmental safeguards. Thus, such a movie sends a powerful message to ordinary people: persistence and collective action can achieve effective results for the global good and the communities involved in the fight.

SL: It is also a counter to the pervasive narrative of apathy and nihilism here. Many believe that nothing can change, but our message is clear: stay stubborn, stay persistent, and keep pushing. Use every tool available — media, film, legal channels, and international agreements. This movie exemplifies to what extent relentless effort can lead to real progress even in the most challenging situations.

Samir Lemeš in front of the coking plant. Photо by Emir Džanan via OBC Transeuropa. Used with permission.

OBCT: What inspired you to focus on Zenica, and what challenges did you encounter in capturing this story?

Nanna Frank Møller (NFM): I first heard of Zenica from Zlatko Pranjić, who grew up there. I visited the area for the first time in 2017, and it was shocking to see the thick, black smoke pouring from factory roofs without chimneys, something I had only ever seen in remote images from highly polluted regions on other continents. From the very beginning, we knew this would be much more than a short-term project so that the work on the film spanned seven years, following a participatory approach. Zlatko and I wanted to deeply portray the daily lives of the people in Zenica and follow their journey over time, allowing the audience to engage directly with the protagonists’ struggles. We stood alongside Samir Lemeš and other Eko Forum’s activists as they tirelessly pressured both local authorities and the steel corporation. It took persistence, but the story’s impact grew as the local authorities and the Ministry of Environment began enforcing new pollution measurements, strengthening Eko Forum’s case. I will also never forget the first screening in Zenica… it was incredibly moving and touching. Many of the attendees were local citizens who had either participated in or supported the film, and they expressed heartfelt gratitude for finally having their reality and struggles recognized on the big screen.

OBCT: How do you believe the film has supported the local fight against industrial pollution in Zenica?

NFM and ZP: Documentary films have a unique power to delve into issues in ways daily news cannot, creating lasting emotional connections with audiences that can lead to real change. Six weeks after our premiere, the coking plant in Zenica closed. This happened alongside an ongoing complaint through the European Bank for Reconstruction and Development [EBRD], spearheaded by Professor Lemeš in the film. The steel corporation cited economic and environmental reasons for the closure, but it is clear that this was a complex result of both the activists’ efforts and institutional pressure. We also hope the film’s exposure can encourage further accountability.

OBCT: Could you tell us about the award at the Sarajevo Film Festival and its significance for the film’s message?

NFM and ZP: The film received the Special Environmental Awareness Award, sponsored for the very first year by the United Nations Development Program in BiH, at the 30th Sarajevo Film Festival. This recognition goes beyond Zenica, highlighting how communities worldwide suffer under corporate-driven pollution. The film indeed raises a crucial question: Can environmental responsibility and profit co-exist without “greenwashing?” Given that organisations like the EBRD, partially funded by taxpayer money, support these corporations, our biggest hope is that this award draws attention to the need for balanced corporate accountability worldwide. We aim to inspire both international bodies and companies to actively foster a cleaner, fairer world.

OBCT: What are the next steps for your movement and environmental justice in Zenica?

SL: The work here is far from over. While air quality has improved somewhat, industrial waste remains a massive problem. Factories now have filters, but these must be consistently maintained, which requires constant monitoring. On a global scale, decarbonization is a pressing issue and for this reason, we have joined several alliances focused on decarbonizing steel production, while also engaging in awareness campaigns like Shiny Claims, Dirty Flames, led by the Fair Steel Coalition, to expose private companies which claim to use green technology but overlook the environmental, health, and human rights impacts of steel production. ArcelorMittal, for example, was a sponsor of the Olympic torch in Paris, promoting it as made with green technology. However, the reality is far different: they still fail to meet environmental standards in places like Zenica. We encourage everyone to look deeper into these initiatives to understand the full story behind such overly labelled “green” claims.

The Sky Above Zenica is still garnering significant acclaim on the international festival circuit. It premiered at CPH:DOX 2024 in Copenhagen, earning nominations for both the Human Rights Award and Danish Dox Award, and went on to screen at DOKUFEST Prizren, Kosovo, and DocuMental Sofia, Bulgaria. After winning the Special Environmental Awareness Award at the Sarajevo Film Festival on August 23, it also received a Special Mention at 6th Rab Film Festival in Croatia and the Check Point Award at the Bergen International Film Festival in Norway. It also received two special mentions at the Inconvenient Films Festival in Lithuania, and on the November 3 it won the main award in the Testimonies competition at Ji.hlava International Documentary Film Festival in Czechia. In early 2025, it will be featured at the Trieste International Film Festival and the Budapest International Documentary Festival, where it is nominated in the international competition category.

Written by OBC Transeuropa

Originally published on Global Voices

Photo by Mykenzie Johnson on Unsplash. Used under an Unsplash license.

Editor's note: November 14th is the International Diabetes Day.  I have a daughter who has type one diabetes; it is an autoimmune condition that develops mostly in children and young adults and has almost no genetic explanation. My daughter was nine when she was diagnosed, and our lives were for a long time divided between before and after. But we live in Europe, where people living with diabetes receive a lot of free medical care from the state.

The following story, which was published in Russian by Holod Media and translated by Global Voices, is about a young woman who lives in Russia, where the state is providing practically no help — especially in the smaller, more rural towns. Global Voices is republishing the article, edited for length and clarity, as part of a content sharing agreement with Holod. 

In 2023, Russian authorities announced that they would intensify their fight against diabetes and allocated additional funds for this from the national budget. But in reality, many people outside the capital, Moscow, who are forced to spend money on managing their disease for life, are barely making ends meet. Alena, 23, is from Yelets and lives on the standard salary for her city, RUB 25,000 a month (USD 250). To make ends meet, she skimps on essential medical supplies, risking a diabetic coma. The free provisions given to diabetics by the state are insufficient. Here is Alena's story, told in her own words, about how she navigates life with diabetes in Russia.

Alena's story

Sometimes, I have the same nightmare: my last insulin pen breaks, and all the hospitals are closed. I have these anxious thoughts: what if my blood sugar drops and I don’t have test strips or insulin? I sit and think: what if I can’t work? If I don’t have any money, what will I do? What will I eat? How will I buy insulin?

I see ads saying, “Diabetes is no longer a disease! It’s a lifestyle.” My grandmother even called me, saying she’d read that diabetes is manageable with a healthy diet and insulin. I didn’t want to upset her, so I agreed, but I felt a burning indignation. People often say it’s easy to live with diabetes in Russia because everything’s supposedly “available.” They don’t want to believe that our prosperous state can’t provide basic medications for those with chronic illnesses.

When I was diagnosed with diabetes, I was 15. It’s been eight years now that I’ve been injecting myself with needles several times a day. Four or five times a day, I inject insulin into my stomach with a special pen. I also constantly prick my fingers with a lancet to get a drop of blood for a test strip to measure my blood sugar.

From an early age, doctors at the clinic taught me that although the needles for the syringe and for the test strips are single-use, you should reuse them several times to save money. I still do that now: I use the same needle for several days. The needles get dull and start to struggle to pierce the skin. My fingertips get hard and crusted over. My stomach develops lumps that prevent insulin from absorbing properly. The effect of the hormone makes many diabetics develop a protruding belly — I have one too, even though I’m generally thin. It didn’t happen because of the insulin itself but rather from the lumps that develop from the injections. I’ve accepted it — though I know many diabetics try to get rid of it with massages and creams — but I just try to choose clothes that don’t cling to my stomach.

Changing the needle with each injection is too expensive, both for me and for most people with low salaries. A pack of 100 pen needles costs RUB 1,500 (USD 15). A pack of 25 lancets for a glucometer costs RUB 350 (USD 3.5). And 150 test strips cost RUB 2,300 (USD 23).

Doctors recommend measuring blood sugar upon waking and before bed, before every meal, and two hours after eating. If you feel unwell from low blood sugar, you should measure it, then measure again after taking insulin or eating something sweet to see if the levels have balanced. Even if you don’t follow this fully, to live a normal life, you need to measure your blood sugar five to seven times a day.

This is necessary for stable blood sugar levels throughout the day — every day — for life. We eat different foods like ordinary people. We get sick, we experience stress that causes sugar spikes. So, it’s important to measure it often to understand what’s happening in our bodies, how the diabetes is progressing, and whether complications are imminent. The complications can be severe: damage to the eyes, kidneys, nerves, and joints, diabetic ulcers on the limbs, and more.

But I don’t have enough income to buy as many strips as I need to live normally. I buy as many as I need to survive.

Because of this, I often rely not on glucose readings but on how I feel, though even after years with diabetes, it’s hard to recognize when my blood sugar is dropping until it’s at a critical level. I feel okay, but then check and see my level is at two — almost pre-coma. I’ve had such episodes, and they take a long time to recover from. If you don’t measure your blood sugar regularly, like me, you risk death.

Though I try to control my diet, blood sugar, and exercise, I still have complications from diabetes. My leg nerves don’t work well, which I think is partly due to the lack of state support for diabetics. It’s so tiring to decide each time if I can use a test strip to check my sugar or if I need to save it for later.

Technically, needles for syringes, lancets, and test strips are supposed to be free. But I’ve never received needles or lancets from my clinic; only one pack of 50 test strips per month, enough to check my blood sugar once a day. The strips from the clinic are low-quality, so I switched to a European glucometer that I bought myself — my life is worth it. I keep thinking: now I’ll start earning more, and I’ll finally measure my sugar regularly!

I’m studying for a master’s in law and working freelance as a tutor. My income is inconsistent: in good months, I earn RUB 25,000 rubles (USD 250), the average for my region, where legal assistants make around the same and baristas even less. I’m from central Russia and incomes are a bit higher here than in more rural villages. There, salaries are as low as USD 12,000 rubles a month (USD 120). And there are diabetics there too.

In 2022, the Russian state changed its free insulin offerings, so I had to buy insulin on my own. I had been getting NovoRapid for years and was used to it, as each insulin acts differently. They switched to Fiasp, which worked well, but then they replaced it with a Russian insulin brand. I read reviews about it — people said it caused issues like numbness or had no effect at all, so I bought foreign insulin, spending RUB 4,000 a month (USD 40). Including needles and strips, my medical expenses totaled RUB 7,000 monthly (USD 70), about 28 percent of my monthly salary. In March 2024, Russia cut state purchases of Fiasp by 95 percent, and once the current supply runs out, the government will likely only provide the Russian equivalent to all diabetics.

The difference between big cities like Moscow and regions like mine in terms of state support for diabetics is huge. I see on social media that diabetics in cities can get imported test strips for free, while I buy them myself because my clinic doesn’t provide them. My parents even offered to get me registered in Moscow for better treatment, but why should I have to move to get quality care?

The constant expenses push many diabetics to move to big cities or work overtime just to afford the necessary treatments. For me, a luxury would be an insulin pump that delivers insulin automatically or a continuous glucose monitor that constantly measures blood sugar levels. These devices are expensive and not provided for free to adults with diabetes in Russia.

A good glucose monitor costs RUB 4,000 (USD 40), and in a month, it costs 8,000 (USD 80) rubles to maintain. A quality insulin pump costs around RUB 300,000 (USD 3,000), plus ongoing maintenance. I want a high standard of living and plan to have a child, which means I’ll need continuous glucose monitoring for nine months, costing about RUB 100,000 (USD 10,000). I’ll need to save up.

I don’t want to be dependent on anyone. When I tell my mom how poorly the state provides for diabetics, she says, “Your dad and I will help if needed.” But I tell her, “You won’t be able to help me my whole life.” I want the state to provide me with basic comfort.

My boyfriend, who works as a lawyer, recently offered to buy me that glucose monitor, but I said no; I don’t want to get used to nice things because it’ll be harder to give them up later. For me, it’s not about earning a lot or advancing in a career; jobs can be lost. What’s more important is achieving changes in government policy. That’s why I’m taking time to speak to a journalist, hoping it will draw attention to the issue.

Written by Daria Dergacheva

Originally published on Global Voices

Parliament of the Republic of Montenegro in Podgorica on a rainy autumn day. Photo by Global Voices. Used with permission.

Civil society organizations from Montenegro warn that the newly proposed law on “agents of foreign influence” represents a serious threat to democratic processes, freedom of assembly, and the activities of non-governmental organizations. This law, inspired by similar regulations from countries such as Russia, Georgia, Kyrgyzstan, and Hungary, would create a legal framework that would make it significantly more difficult and even impossible for NGOs to operate.

The proposal was introduced on October 9 by the ruling Coalition for the Future of Montenegro (ZBCG), consisting of pro-Serbian and pro-Russian political parties, whose leaders include acquitted defendants in the 2016 “coup” plot involving Russian spies.

ZBCG claimed that the new law would be based on the US's Foreign Agents Registration Act (FARA) law. Although other members of the Government expressed opposition to this initiative, ZBCG is continuing its campaign against NGOs.

Addressing the proposal to introduce a so-called FARA law, the leading Montenegrin pro-democracy organization Center for Democratic Transition (CDT) published an analysis titled “FARAway from the essence,” debunking the claim the Montenegrin law is similar to FARA, and noting that this is not the Montenegran government's first to attempt to target the civil sector. CDT noted that such an attack on civil society would undermine democratic processes and Montenegro's European aspirations, which would threaten its credibility on the international stage.

The Digital Forensic Center, a think-tank focused on reducing the impact of misinformation, also warned that:

The reference made by the coalition For the Future of Montenegro to the American Foreign Agents Registration Act (FARA) is already an established disinformation tactic of pro-Russian proxies across Europe. They use the existence of this Law to realize an agenda in their countries that contradicts democratic values, and carry out totalitarian tendencies, suppressing the freedom of civil society and limiting the activities of independent media and non-governmental organizations.

Regional trends

While the proposed law could have a devastating impact on Montenegran civil society, they are by no means alone in using this strategy, as it is seemingly part of a regional trend. Bosnia and Herzegovina, Montenegro's neighbor, unsuccessfully tried to pass a similar law, claiming it was based on the American legislation. In Bosnia, the initiators were ethnic Serbian or pro-Serbian parties that run the entity Republika Srpska. They are also advocating for alliance with Russia, and undermining the Euro-Atlantic integration of their country. CDT noted in their analysis:

U bosanskohercegovačkom entitetu Republika Srpska trebalo je da se razmatra o sličnom prijedlogu zakona proljetos, ali je povučen iz procedure. Predsjednik entiteta, Milorad Dodik, prethodno je rekao da će doslovno prepisati FARA-u i umjesto SAD upisati Republika Srpska. Ali, prema uvidu medija, prijedlog zakona niji ličio na FARA-u već na onaj iz Rusije. Zbog toga su reagovali iz delegacije EU u BiH, ambasade SAD i (OEBS-a).

In Bosnia and Herzegovina the entity of Republika Srpska was supposed to consider similar proposal this spring, but it was withdrawn from procedure. The president of that entity, Milorad Dodik, previously stated that they will literally copy the FARA text and just replace the word USA with Republika Srpska. However, media insight showed that the draft law didn't resemble the US FARA but the Russian Foreign Agents Law. This was the  reason for strong reactions by the Delegation of European Union in BiH, the USA embassy and by the OSCE.

The Bosnian Serb government withdrew their controversial draft law, which would have required all non-profit groups receiving international funding to register in a national database, thus designating them as foreign agents, in May. However, there are no guarantees against them attempting it again. After all, they also maintain close relations with the ruling party in Hungary, which adopted similar legislation after several attempts.

Even though it is a member of the European Union, Hungary adopted a law similar to the Russian Foreign Agents Act in 2017, which was meant to hinder civil society organizations that receive funding from abroad. The law was repealed in 2021 after the European Court of Justice determined it was not in line with EU regulations.

However, in December 2023 Hungary adopted a new Russia-style law called the Sovereignty Protection Act, similar in spirit to the Russian Foreign Agents Act. As part of the act, the “Sovereignty Protection Office” was then set up to gather information on groups and individuals receiving foreign funds. The European Commission announced on October 3, 2024, that it was suing Hungary over the law that imposes jail terms for groups that accept foreign funds for political causes.

Although Hungarian government politicians initially denied that the sovereignty protection law was part of a campaign against civil society and the independent press, an investigation by the Hungarian fact-checking service Lakmusz showed that it was demonstrably clear who the law was targeting.

For example, in June, the Sovereignty Protection Office launched an investigation against the investigative newsroom Átlátszó and the anti-corruption organization Transparency International Hungary. The office has also published “studies” of dubious methodology that listed “pro-war” newspapers and articles spreading “disinformation.” The Sovereignty Protection Office is also harassing public bodies to collect information on a “sovereignty protection basis,” including bank account details of certain individuals.

The right-wing populist ruling party in Slovakia had also been preparing a law based on the Hungarian model, which would target those who would receive more than EUR 5,000 from abroad, labeling them as “organizations with foreign support,” threatening them with monetary fines or closing. The EU condemned the law and warned that Slovakia would face a similar legal response as Hungary.

Back in Montenegro, in a statement for Vijesti newspaper, the director of the Center for Democracy and Human Rights CEDEM, Nevenka Vuksanović, remarked that the ruling coalition's initiative for new foreign agents law could be a “trying balloon” trying to test the pubic attitudes while promoting initiatives which currently don't have public support as they run contrary to the country's primary goal to join the EU.

Očigledno imaju širu agendu, te nam kap po kap ispostavljaju djelove koji se vremenom u javnom diskursu normalizuju, do te mjere da svim građanima djeluju poznato, a onda će i u jednom momentu biti i prihvatljivo. Koja je to agenda, ipak nije u ovom momentu jasno.

Obviously they have a wider agenda, and drop by drop are trying to normalize issues which are part of that agenda in the public discourse. Drop by drop they make such notions familiar to the citizens, and then to make them acceptable. Which is their [ultimate] agenda it remains unclear at this moment.

Written by Global Voices Central & Eastern Europe

Originally published on Global Voices

Screenshot of Russia Post article page. Taken with permission from Russia Post.

Sofia Sorochinskaia has compiled a digest for Russia Post of what the Russian propaganda media says about the West. An edited version is republished on Global Voices with permission from Russia Post. 

This October, the Duma, the Russian parliament, passed a bill banning the promotion of a “child-free lifestyle,” which they consider a pernicious influence from the West. Duma Speaker Vyacheslav Volodin cited urinals as evidence of the onslaught of immorality that Russia aspires to resist.

“Look at Europe, they no longer have urinals in men’s restrooms, they have torn them out. What will be next? Sodom and Gomorrah,” the RBC daily quoted Volodin as saying.

Volodin also proposed banning citizens of countries where gender transition is legal from adopting children in Russia, as reported by the Interfax news agency. Volodin wrote in his Telegram channel, “The policies of Western states regarding children are leading to a great tragedy,” alluding to the possibility of early gender transitions. For over a decade now, US citizens have been prohibited from adopting Russian children under the so-called “Dima Yakovlev Law,” passed in 2012 supposedly in response to the 2008 case of a Russian toddler who died because of the negligence of his American adoptive family. Volodin now wants to extend this law to other countries.

Gender issues are a sensitive topic in Russia, and any suggestion that people can identify as anything other than male or female is unacceptable. Back in 2019, Vladimir Putin, during a press conference at the G20 summit in Japan, defended the Russian law prohibiting LGBTQ+ “propaganda,” confusing transgender people with Transformers.

We have a law that everyone criticizes us for — it’s the law banning propaganda of homosexuality among minors. Listen, let’s allow a person to grow up, become an adult and then decide who they are. Leave the children alone. Nowadays, there’s everything imaginable — they have come up with five or six genders. Transformers, trans… I do not even know what any of this is.

All-gender restrooms have even been cited as one of the reasons for the war in Ukraine, as they represent Western values and, as such, clash with those that Russia is fighting for.

“[The soldiers] who have seen the Ukrainized version of the Donbas understand well what we are fighting for. These guys, who saw schools with restrooms not just for girls and boys but three restrooms — for girls, boys and gender-neutrals — do no need an explanation about what values we are defending,” wrote Saint Petersburg governor Alexander Beglov on his Telegram channel after a January meeting with wounded soldiers.

Russian politicians increasingly argue that Russia is fighting not just Ukraine but also the whole West. In an interview with the state-backed paper Argumenty i Fakty this month, Russian Minister of Foreign Affairs Sergei Lavrov compared Volodymyr Zelensky with Hitler.

It seems that just as Hitler brought most of Europe under the Nazi banner, including the French, Spaniards and Scandinavians, so too is the US now rallying Europe to bear the main burden of the war against Russia. For now, it’s a hybrid war, but it’s increasingly turning into a real, open war against us. And again under the Nazi banner. But this time, the standard-bearer is not Hitler, but Volodymyr Zelensky.

During a BRICS meeting on October 18, Putin stated, “NATO is fighting us, but with Ukrainian soldiers.” He stressed that Russia is prepared to continue fighting the West.

“Talking about time frames — that’s a very complicated and counterproductive thing. When NATO gets tired of fighting us — you can ask them about that. We are ready to continue this fight and to win it,” Putin declared.

The hard confrontation with the West notwithstanding, Russian politicians occasionally still cite the West as a positive example. During the recent Moscow Financial Forum, Moscow Mayor Sergei Sobyanin encouraged people to look to Italy and Germany for how to improve productivity, which he believes is higher there because of high levels of urban concentration.

“Look at our hard workers, who work from morning until night, on Saturdays, Sundays and so on, and the Italians — lunch, a siesta, a beer, a nap, a short workday on Friday, and no one works on weekends. But their productivity is higher,” Sobyanin said. “In Germany, do you think anyone overworks there? Not at all. Try to make someone work overtime there and the unions will immediately take to the streets and shut down the firm.”

In addition, the Russian elite still prefers to vacation and hold assets in Europe, particularly in France, as revealed in an April investigation by the Russian independent media outlet The Insider. One example is oligarch Vladimir Yevtushenkov, who owns companies that supply navigation systems to the Russian Ministry of Defense and, according to The Insider, used to own a company that developed military drones at least until 2023. In 2022, he transferred shares in French companies to his wife. The couple owns three villas in Nice, estimated to be worth about EUR 30 million combined.

Svetlana Ivanova, the wife of former deputy defense minister Timur Ivanov, was featured in an investigation by Alexei Navalny’s team in late 2022. In March of that year, at the start of the full-scale invasion of Ukraine, she was travelling around Europe. In the spring of 2023, journalists from the Ukrainian online newspaper Ukrainska Pravda spotted her at a resort in the Alps. In April 2024, her husband was caught up in the purge of the Ministry of Defense and arrested on suspicion of corruption. There have been no further reports about Ivanova’s travels.

Meanwhile, Putin has remarked that European countries are losing “income, [their] reputation and the trust of their partners” because of restrictions on travel and bank transfers by Russians.

The Russian state news agency TASS quoted Putin as saying:

I have mentioned before that domestic tourism has been actively developing in recent years. The growth is quite strong. Of course, external factors have played a role — various sanctions and restrictions imposed by the governments of certain countries, as well as the Russophobia they encourage. In effect, they have removed themselves from the list of attractive tourist destinations for Russians…

Written by Russia Post

Originally published on Global Voices

Maia Sandu and her opponent Alexandr Stoianoglo. Screenshot of video “Moldova's pro-Western incumbent Maia Sandu claims election win | AC1G” from the Talk Shows Central YouTube channel. Fair use.

Maia Sandu won the Moldovan presidential election on November 4, 2024, becoming the country's first leader to secure a second term through direct elections. Sandu’s final lead was around 11 percent, or approximately 182,000 votes — a respectable result. However, there's a caveat. Unlike in 2020, she achieved this victory largely thanks to the votes of the Moldovan diaspora. Domestically, Sandu lost to her opponent, Alexandr Stoianoglo, by a margin of 2.4 percent, or 32,000 votes. This conflicting result highlights a longstanding divide in Moldovan society across multiple dimensions.  Evgenii Cheban wrote about the election results for Moldovan media outlet NewsMaker, and Global Voices translated the article, edited it for clarity and republished it with the permission from NewsMaker. 

How did Sandu secure victory?

The results of the first round of the presidential election and a pro-European constitutional referendum were an unpleasant surprise for the Moldovan government and Sandu personally. The incumbent president's first-round victory was far from the convincing win that could ensure an easy second-round victory. The pro-European constitutional referendum, seen as a rehearsal for the second round, nearly failed.

Taking this bitter pill from Moldovan voters, Sandu's team set out to improve their standing.

The president worked hard to charm voters who supported other candidates, delivering conciliatory and unifying messages, especially targeting the supporters of Renato Usatii, who came in third in the first round. She even reached out to Ilan Shor‘s network of activists. The former air of superiority and condescending attitude towards opponents and their supporters seemed to have vanished.

A notable symbol of this shift was a Friday photo with Ion Ceban, the mayor of Chișinău, whom Sandu and her team had long labeled as “Moscow’s man.” Now, the two stood together — though with not-so-happy expressions — promoting a “European future” on Sandu's Facebook page, just two days before the deciding vote.

A divided Moldova: Why the diaspora had to rescue Sandu's victory, and what's next?

In response to the protest vote of the first round, Sandu acknowledged the government's mistakes and even promised reforms, starting with government reshuffles.

To minimize the impact of Shor's activists, reportedly financed by Russia, law enforcement ramped up efforts, with daily reports of searches, detentions, and fines for vote-buying. 

The media leaked the database of Ilan Shor’s supporters in Moldova, spreading it widely on social networks. Government supporters abandoned the presumption of innocence and publicly denounced those listed.

Read more: Moldova's presidential elections face the second round

Alexandr Stoianoglo's campaign: A contrast in approach

Between the two election rounds, Stoianoglo and his team were far less active. He performed poorly in debates with Sandu, gave a few advantageous interviews, did a social media stream, but posted little about his campaign meetings.

Sandu's team’s active engagement across multiple areas stood out against Stoianoglo's passive campaign, yielding results. The combined strategy of tackling Shor’s network, mobilizing supporters, and appealing to voters from eliminated candidates paid off.

Sandu improved her first-round result by 275,000 voters, of which only 115,000 came from higher turnout. Stoianoglo gained an additional 347,000 votes — 141,000 short of the total votes for eliminated candidates in the first round. This shortfall in protest votes partially resulted from Renato Usatii’s refusal to support the opposition candidate in the second round. But the main reason for Stoianoglo’s loss likely lies elsewhere — most Moldovan voters aren’t prepared to see a candidate from a pro-Kremlin party as president. Sandu’s campaign focused heavily on this fear during the final stretch.

Division one: Geopolitics

When Moldovans discuss societal divides, they often reference a geopolitical split — those favoring European integration versus those leaning toward Russia. Russia's aggression against Ukraine has significantly reduced support for the latter stance.

The main pro-Kremlin political force, which openly backs and justifies Russia's invasion of Ukraine, is Ilan Shor’s semi-underground organization. In the second round, Shor urged his supporters to vote for Stoianoglo and arranged transportation to polling stations abroad in Minsk, Baku, and Istanbul. Igor Dodon, the Socialist leader backing Stoianoglo, also tried to justify Putin’s actions, though with less enthusiasm and more caution.

Connections between Stoianoglo and pro-Kremlin forces were a major point of attack and a key vulnerability. Although Stoianoglo condemned Russia’s invasion of Ukraine as an act of aggression, supported Ukraine's territorial integrity, and distanced himself from Dodon, his efforts didn’t seem convincing enough.

Fear of a “Kremlin Trojan horse,” as Sandu called Stoianoglo, became the main rallying cry for her supporters in the second round.

The final election results clearly showed that most Moldovan voters (especially those in the diaspora) are wary of any Kremlin-associated forces. This narrative will likely feature heavily in Sandu’s and PAS’s strategies in the upcoming parliamentary elections.

Division two: inequality

If the Socialist Party and Shor are toxic due to corruption and Kremlin ties, why did Stoianoglo win domestically? Moldova isn’t driven solely by geopolitics or fears of war. Particularly in the regions outside Chișinău, another societal division exists — one unrelated to high politics or global concerns.

Moldovan society is split into two Moldovas, with little relation to geopolitics or Vladimir Putin.

The first Moldova consists of citizens with incomes above average, mostly residing in Chișinău or abroad. They vote predominantly for pro-European politicians and favor EU integration. These citizens travel to Europe frequently, making visa-free access, low-cost airlines, and parking fees at Chișinău airport vital. Most have Romanian passports and influence public opinion on social media and TV.

The second Moldova lives mainly in Moldova's emptying villages and small towns, often lacking basic utilities like centralized water and sewage systems. Many in this second Moldova are elderly, surviving on minimal pensions, while younger residents, with low salaries, consider emigration, taking microloans for essentials. They feel the brunt of any economic shock, be it inflation or rising utility costs.

These citizens aren’t necessarily against Moldova's European path; they simply don’t see or feel its benefits. Yet, they constantly hear about EU integration from government officials and see EU flags displayed everywhere.

The stark difference between these two Moldovas becomes evident by comparing photos from Shor's party protests and last year’s pro-European rally in Chișinău. Even better, take a look at footage from the 2022 Chișinău Marathon. There, men and women in branded sportswear with expensive gadgets run past elderly poor dressed women, who have been brought to the Shor protest and are watching them with curiosity.

The second Moldova is poorly represented in public spaces and Moldovan politics. They often fall for populist slogans and cheap promises and feel alienated by the arrogance shown by the first Moldova, including the ruling party and president.

For this second country, socioeconomic conditions matter more than foreign policy. The Communist Party once addressed their need for justice, as did Sandu and PAS with their anti-oligarchic stance in 2020–2021. Recently, Stoianoglo has appealed to this sentiment with his slogan, “Justice for All,” explaining his domestic win.

Two Moldovas, two presidents

The first Moldova, mainly the diaspora and Chișinău, chose Sandu, while the second Moldova voted for Stoianoglo — two different countries, with different priorities, wanting different presidents.

In her post-election address, Sandu once again promised to be “the president for all citizens,” aiming to bridge the divide intensified by this campaign. But can she — and will she?

Written by Guest Contributor

Originally published on Global Voices

Screenshot from Russia Post article. Used with permission.

Based on her academic research, sociologist Karina Goulordava described for Russia Post the experience of Russians who fled to Turkey following Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine. Tightening immigration policies by the Turkish government is now forcing them to consider looking for new places to resettle. Global Voices is republishing the article, edited for length and clarity, with permission from Russia Post. 

Russians who came to Turkey after their country launched a full-scale aggression against Ukraine initially found a place of welcome and respite. Settling mainly in Istanbul and the Mediterranean resort cities of Antalya and Alanya, they viewed Turkey as a stable and enjoyable temporary home. Since early 2023, however, the country is increasingly a stopover before further migration or sometimes a return home, as more and more Russian exiles are refused residence permits by Turkish authorities. This shift occurs as Turkey grapples with high inflation, economic instability, and anti-immigrant sentiment, mainly targeting Syrian and Afghan refugees but becoming widespread among Turkish politicians and the public.

Limited options for Russian emigrants

Following the beginning of the full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, tens of thousands of Russians flew to Turkey, although many stayed only briefly, often immediately transiting to Europe or Asia. Estimates indicate that over 700,000 people fled Russia when Russia announced its “partial military mobilization” in September 2022. Observations and interviews indicate, however, that many of those people chose to return to Russia after the mobilization threat subsided.

From the early weeks of the influx, sociologist Karina Goulordava began informal observations of and conversations with Russians arriving in Turkey, later evolving into formal interviews about their journey and settlement.

As most European countries suspended flights with Russia and some neighboring countries restricted entry, Turkey became one of the destinations for fleeing Russians, as it allowed flights and a visa-free stay of 60 days. Restricting Russians would have negatively impacted Turkey’s tourism sector, which had already been crippled by the pandemic. In 2021, Russians were the largest group of foreign visitors to Turkey.

Despite limited options, Russians still made choices about where to resettle. Many chose Turkey because of previous tourist trips, which gave a sense of familiarity in an otherwise uncertain transition. Existing Russian-speaking communities in Istanbul, Antalya, and Alanya reinforced this, as there were already established Russian-language schools, kindergartens, and pharmacies with Russian-speaking staff. Russians noted Turkey’s development and quality of life, appreciating its infrastructure, service sector, and medical care.

Throughout 2022, Russians cited Turkey’s relative affordability, which has since declined due to an economic downturn, inflation, and skyrocketing housing costs, partly blamed on Russian arrivals in cities like Istanbul, Antalya, and Alanya.

Compared with Georgia, Armenia, Kazakhstan, and Serbia (other common destinations for Russian emigrants), Turkey stood out because it did not have a Soviet past and wasn't a NATO member. Turkey has long balanced the West and East, aligning with Western political, economic, and military institutions and Eastern partnerships, particularly under current President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan. In the Russia-Ukraine war, Turkey provided support to Ukraine and recognized its sovereignty while still relying on Russian oil and gas and not joining sanctions against Russia. Turkey leveraged its position to mediate negotiations between Russia and Ukraine, such as the Black Sea Grain Initiative and prisoner swaps.

Who are the Russians in Turkey?

The Russians who came to Turkey often match the general profile of those who have chosen to leave Russia since February 2022. Most are younger than 50, come from the country’s major urban areas, are educated and well-traveled, and, at least in Russia, were part of the middle class, which has significantly expanded since the 2000s. Their cited reasons for leaving Russia were a mix of opposition to the government, uncertainty about Russia’s stability, fear of being cut off from the world, and avoiding the military mobilization.

Higher-profile political activists, journalists, artists, and intellectuals mostly sought refuge in the EU or North America, often transiting through Turkey. Russians with wealth did not generally settle in Turkey, preferring Dubai.

Many who had economic and social capital in Russia found it harder to transfer these in Turkey; lower salaries and the need for fluency in Turkish limited employment. Obtaining a work permit is challenging — many migrants and refugees work informally.

Some Russians opened businesses in Turkey, like cafes, restaurants, and salons, mainly catering to Russians and the Russian-speaking community. Other businesses are advertised informally through social media, such as delivering homemade dishes popular in the former Soviet Union. Wealthier Russians have used Turkey’s citizenship-by-investment program, which grants Turkish citizenship with a property purchase of at least USD 400,000, with Russians consistently among the top foreign buyers of Turkish real estate.

Residence permits: The main hurdle to staying in Turkey

The exact number of Russians who have settled in Turkey since early 2022 is difficult to determine. According to the government agency overseeing immigration, around 80,000–90,000 Russians received first-time residence permits throughout 2022. Since early 2023, however, the number of Russian nationals with residence permits has declined, from a peak of around 150,000 at the end of 2022 to approximately 90,000 in September 2024. For comparison, at the end of 2021, around 66,000 Russians held Turkish residence permits.

Residence permit refusals have affected not only Russians but much of Turkey’s foreign population. Publicly available data shows a 21 percent decrease in foreign residents from the end of 2022 to September 2024. Russians report that refusal of a residence permit, or the fear of one, is the primary reason they are leaving Turkey.

Turkish immigration authorities rarely clarify their policy, though it appears reactive and rapidly changing. Throughout 2022, new Russian arrivals were rarely refused permits, and one-year residency could be obtained by presenting a rental contract. In early 2023, however, Russian communities reported rising refusal rates, reflected in declining residence permit figures.

Turkey’s increasingly unwelcoming immigration climate

Russians’ experiences in Turkey occur amid growing politicization of migration. Historically a country of out-migration, Turkey became more attractive as its economy improved. Its strategic location and borders with Europe, Syria, and Iraq brought refugees seeking safety or transit to Europe. In 2011, over 3.5 million Syrian refugees arrived due to the Syrian civil war. Today, around 3 million Syrians have temporary protected status, while around 220,000 asylum-seekers from other countries, mainly Afghanistan and Iraq, are under international protection, according to the UN High Commissioner for Refugees.

[Global Voices previously reported that the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees estimates that some 4 million refugees, mostly Syrians, live in Turkey. Afghans make up the second largest group.]

Public sentiment and political rhetoric in Turkey often display resistance to  immigration, especially targeting Syrian and Afghan refugees. Calls to deport Syrian refugees resonate widely among Turkish politicians, the public, and the Erdoğan administration. In 2023, the economic downturn and high inflation spurred anti-immigrant violence, including anti-Syrian riots in July, 2024 where a teenage boy was killed, and Syrian properties were damaged. [Ed: anti-immigrant sentiments were already there in 2021.]

With Ali Yerlikaya’s appointment as interior minister in July 2023, immigration policy became stricter. While residence permit denials were rising before, the government now enforces mobile immigration checks to verify residency status and reduce irregular migration. In Russian-populated areas of Antalya, checks were set up in shopping malls and cafes. However, unlike refugees without legal status, Russians found without permits were often asked to depart voluntarily rather than detained.

What’s next for the Russians in Turkey?

Many Russians, despite wishing to stay in Turkey, are considering onward migration due to residence permit issues and discomfort with the growing “anti-foreigner environment.” The economic downturn and high inflation have also led some to explore other destinations.

Russians’ options remain limited. Many express a desire to move to the EU or North America, though few believe they could obtain visas or legal residency. Some consider relocating to Serbia, Georgia, Armenia, or farther destinations like Thailand or Indonesia (particularly Bali). For most Russians who came to Turkey, uncertainty is the defining experience, and onward migration appears likely.

In the years ahead, the path of this new Russian diaspora may become clearer. Turkey may not be a long-term home for most recent Russian emigrants, a result of Turkey’s shifting immigration policies and climate. As after the 1917 revolution and the exodus of  Russians opposing the Bolsheviks (so-called White Russians, as opposed to “Red” — Bolsheviks) Turkey seems to be a temporary stop for the Russian diaspora rather than a permanent home.

Written by Russia Post

Originally published on Global Voices

Photo by Sasha Pleshco on Unsplash. Used under an Unsplash license.

On October 20, presidential elections and a constitutional referendum on joining the EU were held in Moldova.  The results of the presidential elections and the referendum on European integration came as a surprise to many in Moldova. Only slightly more than 50 percent of voters supported the inclusion of the European course in the constitution. On November 3, 2024, Moldova will hold the second round of the presidential election, with incumbent President Maia Sandu and former Prosecutor General Alexandr Stoianoglo advancing. NewsMaker examined why the forecasts and polls did not materialize, and what can be expected next. Global Voices translated the article and republished with permission from NewsMaker. 

With a narrow margin and a second round

The second round of the Moldovan presidential election will take place in two weeks, on November 3. The candidates will be Maia Sandu from the ruling PAS party and Alexandr Stoianoglo from the Socialists. Pre-election polls showed that Sandu would likely take first place and Stoianoglo second, but the difference in numbers was significant.

Polls showed that around 30–35 percent of respondents were ready to support Sandu, while around 10 percent favored Stoianoglo. This was out of the total electorate, with a large portion of voters still undecided. As a result, Sandu received 42.45 percent, and Stoianoglo 25.98 percent.

Elections on the edge

The referendum, on the other hand, was expected to see an overwhelming victory for the “Yes” vote.

In reality, the referendum was split almost in half: 50.49 percent voted in favor of including European integration in the Constitution, while 49.57 percent voted against.

Regions against the EU?

Interestingly, according to preliminary results (after half of the ballots were counted), those voting against the referendum were significantly higher (around 56 percent) than those voting in favor. The situation began to change once the ballots from overseas voting stations were processed. Inside the country, most regions had more voters against the constitutional amendments. In fact, there were regions where Sandu (the initiator and main promoter of the referendum) came in first place, but the majority voted against the referendum, such as in the Ungheni and Leova districts. In some districts, Sandu received fewer votes than the “Yes” vote on the referendum, such as in the Telenesti and Nisporeni districts.

The capital, Chișinău voted “Yes” to amending the constitution: 55.98 percent of voters in the capital supported it, while 44.02 percent were against.  All districts of Chișinău and its suburbs supported the amendments, except one, where the majority opposed the EU course being added to the Constitution.

Southern and northern regions of the country mostly voted against the amendments.

WatchDog expert Andrei Curararu argues that the fact that in more than half of Moldova’s districts, over 50 percent opposed the constitutional amendments is not representative.

In federal states, federal subjects play a bigger role. But we are a unitary state. Our demographic situation is such that the population gravitates toward living in Chișinău. I believe that half of our population now lives in Chișinău. We see that Gagauzia voted against the amendments, but let’s not forget that only 200,000 people live there, and typically only about 55,000 vote.

He also pointed to the economic influence of Chișinău and the diaspora on the country’s development, suggesting that this factor should be compared with the regions that voted against.

Why did this happen?

After the preliminary election and referendum results were announced, Maia Sandu stated that around 300,000 voters were targeted for bribery. There were expectations of provocations and vote-buying during the elections and the referendum. The fugitive oligarch Ilan Shor, sentenced to 15 years in Moldova, and his “Victory” bloc created a network of supporters, offering them money to join and recruit others. The police repeatedly conducted searches and arrested leaders and members of the bloc’s territorial organizations for illegal financing and influence on the electoral process. Curararu noted that Moldova has a “televised format” for defending democracy: “We conduct searches and arrest two or three leaders, but we do not work with the population. And the population turned out to be much more influenced by Shor than we thought earlier.”

Former Moldovan representative to the UN and Council of Europe Alexei Tulbure noted that Russian interference became a very serious factor influencing the results. However, if judicial and law enforcement reforms had been implemented in Moldova, “the destructive power of Russian interference could have been minimized.”

Political scientist Angela Colatski compared the government’s response to Shor’s actions to “a mosquito bite.”

When you sit down to play with a cheater, it doesn’t matter what game you’re playing—you always have to stay alert. We can’t fight them using their methods, because those are illegal methods. We need to use the entire state arsenal, and ahead of time.

Bad timing

Alexei Tulbure believes that only reforms improving people's lives can make the process of European integration irreversible.

If people's lives improve, we can confidently say there will be no going back. But adding amendments to the Constitution won’t make European integration irreversible. We lack a legal culture. 

 Moreover, organizing a referendum simultaneously with the presidential election raised many questions. Some pro-European supporters also voted against it, as “it was a vote against the government, not against Europe.” Tulbure emphasized that “This was a message directed at the president and PAS, who organized the referendum when it wasn’t the right time or method.” 

Insufficient work with voters

Another reason cited by experts is insufficient engagement with voters. “There needs to be political work to achieve broad consensus on European integration and to unite society,” Tulbure said. He believes the process should involve other ethnic and political groups in the population, which “would change their attitude towards it.” He added, “If they are excluded, they become easy prey for propagandists and populists.” 

According to him, the PAS team didn’t do enough to reach out to voters.

They [PAS representatives] visited central districts of Moldova, where their stable electorate mostly lives. The president didn’t visit the north or the south, where her rating is significantly lower. In the next two weeks leading up to the second round, she needs to visit these areas and convince people.

Angela Colatski also noted that the idea of the referendum was poorly communicated to voters. “Not all voters understood that there would be no second round for the referendum. The slogan ‘There will be no second round in the referendum’ came too late,” she said. 

What’s next?

Moldova is heading to the second round of elections. Making predictions is difficult. The gap between candidates in the first round is 16 percent. Sandu has already appealed to the supporters of Octavian Ticu, Andrei Nastase, Tudor Ulianovschi, Ion Chicu, and Renato Usatii, asking for their support in the second round. However, it is worth noting that all these candidates criticized the incumbent president.

Among the named candidates, Renato Usatii received the most electoral support, finishing third in the first round. In the previous presidential election in 2020, Usatii also placed third and called for votes for Sandu in the second round. Before the first round of the current election, Usatii said he would not endorse anyone this time. Stoianoglo, on the other hand, may unite all opposition-minded voters. But whether that will be enough to close the gap and pull ahead remains unclear.

On the other hand, it seems that Sandu has already mobilized her stable electorate, and there are no more votes to draw from. Experts disagree. Tulbure believes Sandu still has two resources: voters from the northern and southern parts of the country, whom she failed to convince in the first round, and the diaspora, which, although it already demonstrated massive voting, could provide additional support.

Angela Colatski believes that Maia Sandu must build cooperation with other pro-European forces, especially ahead of next summer’s parliamentary elections. The referendum results revealed not only a deep societal divide but also dissatisfaction with the current government. Experts have long doubted whether PAS will replicate its 2021 results. “It’s necessary to start negotiating a pro-European coalition now,” Colatski noted.

Curararu believes the shock from the referendum and election results could serve as motivation for pro-European voters.

There are two weeks left until the second round of the election, and the campaign will intensify. Both candidates have already challenged each other to debates.

Written by Guest Contributor

Originally published on Global Voices

Photo by Agus Dietrich on Unsplash. Used under an Unsplash License.

This article by Alina Mikhalkina was originally published by NewsMaker on September 28, 2024. An edited and translated version is republished on Global Voices as part of a content partnership agreement.

Crises shaking the countries of the former Soviet Union are leading to a growing number of people losing their citizenship. While it may seem that everyone has a nationality, as they reside within the borders of some state, the reality is different. By the end of 2023, there were 4.4 million stateless individuals globally — people without citizenship or with undetermined nationality. These individuals face significant challenges, such as difficulties in getting married, opening bank accounts, or registering property. They effectively vanish from official “radars” and are stripped of many fundamental rights.

Without a passport in Moldova

According to the UN, in 2014, more than twenty years after the collapse of the Soviet Union, over 600,000 people across the post-Soviet space still remained stateless. One of them was Elena Dergunov, a resident of Chișinău.

“In the Transnistrian region, I got a passport of the Republic of Moldova. With it, I was able to go to Israel, where I worked for several years. But when I returned to Moldova, my document was confiscated at the border; they said the passport was invalid,” the woman recalls.

In 1954, the UN countries developed the Convention Relating to the Status of Stateless Persons. According to the document, a stateless person is someone who “is not considered a national by any state under the operation of its law.” By 2024, 98 countries, including Moldova, had signed the convention.

Dergunov says:

I lived without documents for 12 years. All I had was a copy of that invalid Moldovan passport. I registered my middle son at the hospital using that copy. I was only able to obtain a birth certificate for my youngest son when he was five and a half years old.

When there is no protection

Being stateless often means that you cannot open a bank account, register property, get married, enroll a child in school, find a job, or even see a family doctor. Elena admits that her ex-husband constantly threatened her, saying that “he would file a report, and the children would be taken away from me.” For all these years, she couldn’t officially get a job or receive any welfare benefits.

According to UN experts, a person can become stateless due to various circumstances, such as discrimination based on ethnicity, religion, or membership in other minority groups. Another important cause of statelessness is gender discrimination.

Additionally, statelessness can arise during “state succession,” when a new country is formed, or an old one dissolves.

“Since 2005, I applied to various institutions, but I was refused everywhere. I wasn’t a citizen of Ukraine, nor of Moldova. Later, I obtained stateless status and now have an identity card and a foreign passport. For the first time, I was able to officially get a job,” Elena says.

According to Oleg Paliy, head of the Legal Center of Advocates, the difference between recognized stateless people and those with an undefined legal status is that the latter are almost invisible to state structures: “A person without documents has no social rights because these people practically don’t exist — they are invisible to government institutions.”

Belarusians without rights

On January 5, 2023, Alyaksandr Lukashenka signed a law allowing the revocation of Belarusian citizenship for those who fled the country for political reasons. The official basis for this measure is the “loss of legal ties with the state.” Earlier, in 2022, Lukashenka's regime introduced a repressive mechanism enabling the prosecution of opposition figures in absentia. This so-called “special proceeding” not only provides authorities with a formal justification for revoking citizenship but also allows them to freely seize the property left behind by these stateless individuals.

The United Transitional Cabinet of Belarus, created by opposition leader Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya, has promised to launch an unprecedented initiative — a passport for the New Belarus. However, for now, the number of stateless Belarusians, who have found themselves in foreign countries by force of circumstances, continues to grow.

Written by Anastasia Pestova

Originally published on Global Voices

Image by Almin Zrno, via Balkan Diskurs. Used with permission.

This article by Adelisa Mašić was originally published on Balkan Diskurs, a project of the Post-Conflict Research Center (PCRC). An edited version has been republished by Global Voices under a content sharing agreement.

One of the most important photographers in Bosnia and Herzegovina (BiH), Almin Zrno has held 18 solo exhibitions in BiH and abroad. He is a member of the Artists’ Association of Applied Arts and Designers of BiH, the author of two monographs, and the winner of seven prestigious Collegium Artisticum awards for best photography. Zrno also has the status of a prominent independent artist of the Sarajevo Canton.

He describes himself as a completely ordinary man, in love with life and all that life offers us. He does not like to be thought of as an art photographer, but a creator, or at least trying to be so. He draws inspiration from everything around him and transforms it into his famous achromatic works.

“Most of my photos are made in valerian achromatic colors so everyone could color them in their own way. Each of us, when faced with a work of art, should experience what he himself is. Such colors evoke the most empathy in me personally because my dreams are also made of such colors,” Zrno explains.

He had been involved in documentary photography for a long time before one of his most famous works, “Mother of Srebrenica”(2001), marked a turning point in his artistic work. Because of this work, he decided not to pursue the genre anymore. He says:

Fotografija ,,Majka Srebrenice“ nastala je 2001. godine. Nakon što sam je izradio, shvatio sam da ne mogu graditi svoju sreću na tuđoj nesreći jer niti jedna ratna fotografija nije zaustavila niti jedan rat. Mi stalno propitujemo prošlost i pravimo revizionizme, ali tu umjetnost ne stanuje, ona stanuje na nekom drugom mjestu. Da sam nastavio da radim u tom pravcu, ja bih sebe poništio a to ne vodi nikuda.

The photograph “Mother of Srebrenica” was taken in 2001. After I took it, I realized that I couldn’t build my happiness on someone else’s misfortune, because no war photo has ever stopped a war. We are constantly questioning the past and doing historical revisionism… but art’s place is not there, it is somewhere else. If I continued to work in that direction, I would annul myself, which would lead nowhere.

Zrno believes that art is a strong drive that a person has within oneself. His leitmotif is to love the art that lies within ourselves, not ourselves in art. His work has now taken on new contours, in the form of nude photography, which, he says, offers him countless possibilities for revelations and discoveries of both body and spirit.

Atypical for this region is Zrno’s creation of his monograph “Apology of Eros.” It consists of 53 photographs divided into two cycles, “Fresco” and “Nude,” and two professional texts written by Professor Amela Hadžimejlić and Professor Fehim Hadžimuhamedović.

The monograph is divided into two cycles — Fresco and Nude — providing insight into the complexity of Almin Zrno’s photographic work, which separates nude photography from the personality of the model and brings it closer to abstraction, such as the forms of the body, the power of movement, seductiveness, and transcendence. Image by Almin Zrno, via Balkan Diskurs. Used with permission.

“It is not only about sensitivity toward the physical, the act, but also sensitivity toward the spirit. We all have masks which we skillfully put on the minute we wake up. Therefore, my photographs are maskless, showing people naked and free and, at the same time, small and fragile. We need to dive into ourselves and find ourselves, because that is where the center of the universe and the center of all our problems and solutions are, and we can only do that if we are completely naked. This is my ‘Apology of Eros.’ It is my response to the world around me and a mirror of my reality,” explains Zrno, addressing the underlying concept of his monograph.

He adds that his photography cycles, through certain gestures and poses, suggest certain emotional states, forcing us to celebrate love and freedom, thus counterbalancing the nonsense of the world we are surrounded by today.

Through the promotion of himself and his art outside Bosnia and Herzegovina, he also promotes the country he comes from. In this way, he tries to break down stereotypes about this area.

“I try to raise awareness of certain taboos in our society and break down prejudices. The issue is that some people have limited art to what is dark, negative. They insist that art can only be of that realm, and we are all expected to follow suit. I hope that one day we will reach the level of freedom at which we can truly be free,” he says.

Almin Zrno does not consider photography a job, but a love, and for him love is not possession but giving. In fact, this has become his personal maxim. “As soon as the desire to own something appears, it is no longer love.”

Written by Balkan Diskurs

Originally published on Global Voices

Statuettes of Josip Broz Tito, Draža Mihailović, and Nikola Tesla featured in a tourist souvenir shop in Niš, Serbia. (RSD 1450 is about USD 14.) Photo by Global Voices, CC-BY 3.0.

The call of Belgrade mayor Aleksandar Šapić to remove the tomb of Yugoslav antifascist leader Josip Broz Tito from the city and erect a monument to his arch enemy, Nazi collaborator Draža Mihailović, incited wave of criticism in Serbia and across the region of former Yugoslavia.

“I cannot influence it publicly, nor can the City of Belgrade formally influence it legally, but I think that moving the tomb of Josip Broz from the Museum of Yugoslavia is an extremely important thing for the Serbian people and the future of this country,” he said to the city assembly on September 17.

The mausoleum of the late Yugoslav leader, called the the House of Flowers, is a major tourist attraction for Belgrade, attracting 120,000 visitors a year, AFP reported.

The House of Flowers mausoleum houses the tombs of Yugoslav president Josip Broz Tito and the first lady Jovanka Broz. It is part of Museum of Yugoslavia in Belgrade, and major tourist attraction. Photo by Global Voices, CC-BY 3.0.

In a statement for the Balkan Investigating Network (BIRN), historian Milovan Pisarri said the move is “unfortunately another act in the continuity of the policy that has been going on at the official level for 20 years, which entails the rehabilitation of those war criminals, that nationalist ideology and actually the project that the Chetniks themselves had about creating a Greater Serbia,“ as well as “erasing any connection with Yugoslavia, with communism, with that period which nevertheless brought about among other things great progress not only for Serbia but also for all peoples on the territory of that country.”

Serbian citizens and opposition politicians blamed Šapić for attempting distraction from the real problems.

Podržaću Šapićevu ideju podizanja spomenika Draži Mihailoviću, čim budem video slike četnika koji oslobađaju Beograd.

Do tada:
– spomenik četničkim koljačima u Beogradu – neće moći;
– skretanje pažnje građana sa poskupljenja osnovnih životnih namirnica na istorijske teme – neće… pic.twitter.com/wZfgFdmJvE

— Kosta Konstantinović (@KostaKonstan) September 17, 2024

Photos: Liberation of Belgrade from the Nazis by Yugoslav Partizans and the Red Army.
Text: I will support Šapić's idea to erect a monument to Draža Mihailović, after I see photos of Četniks liberating Belgrade. Until that time
– no way for a monument to Četnik killers in Belgrade
– no to use of historical topics to draw citizens attention from increasing prices of basic foodstuffs
No pasaran!

Dragana Rakić, deputy president of the Democratic Party, told the newspaper Danas that “when Šapić is unable to offer Belgraders functional and safe public transport or ensure regular funding for the city’s most basic institutions, he stirs up age-old debate — Chetniks or Partisans.“

BNE Intellinews reported that Šapić's proposal also drew criticism from his coalition partners. Ivica Dačić, Serbia’s interior minister and leader of the Socialist Party of Serbia, distanced himself from the plan, stating that his party “will not support the removal of communist memorials.”

Reactions also came from abroad, with numerous social media posts, as well as official statements such as by anti-fascists from Montenegro, denouncing the idea.

This is not the first time Šapić has proposed the removal of Tito’s tomb. When he proposing sending Tito's remains to his birthplace of Kumrovec in Croatia in April 2024, officials from Bosnia and Herzegovina retorted that, as an anti-fascist city, Sarajevo would welcome the remains. The renewed backlash indicated that efforts for historical revisionism by nationalists who have been in power in Serbia since the 1990s had not been fully successful.

The debate was “settled” by the Serbian president Aleksandar Vučić, who told Politico that “it won’t happen.” In a interview published on September 23, he was quoted as saying:

I have never been a big fan of communists and the communist regime, but Josip Broz is a part of our history, he lived here and he was buried here, and he will remain a part of Serbian and Yugoslav history.

After that, mayor Šapić seemingly paused his initiative to remove Tito's tomb. However, on September 26 he officially submitted the proposal to build a monument to Draža Mihailović in the center of Belgrade to the Commission for monuments and names of squares and streets of the Assembly of City of Belgrade.

Why is Draža Mihailović so controversial?

During the Second World War, Mihailović was leader of the Serbian nationalist Četnik movement (also written as Chetnik), which on one hand claimed that they fought occupiers on behalf of King Peter II and the Yugoslav government in exile, who escaped to the UK in early 1941, while in practice they collaborated with German Nazis and their local proxies against the anti-fascist resistance movement led by Yugoslav Communists.

Museum of Yugoslavia historic exhibition on Second World War shows 1941 posters by Nazi occupation authorities, offering rewards of 100,000 Reichsmark for Draža Mihajlović and Josip Broz Tito as resistance leaders. Mihailović later turned his Četniks into Nazi collaborators. Photo by Global Voices, CC-BY 3.0.

While they collaborated with the Nazis, the Četniks also sought support from Western allies, and participated in rescuing downed UK and US pilots (later recognized by US president Truman with posthumous medals). However by 1944, British fact-finding missions and other overwhelming evidence of Četnik service to the Nazis led to the Allies renouncing ties with Mihailović and other Serbian quislings.

After the war, the internationally recognized Yugoslav authorities convicted and executed him for treason and war crimes in 1946.

In a much shared column for Radar, historian Pissari explained how the “Chetnik ideology, like many other nationalist ideologies, and even fascist ones, survived World War II like many other nationalist ideologies, and even fascist ones, survived World War II” as Serbian diaspora “continued to cultivate the cult of royalist anti-communist forces,” and idea of “establishing the Greater Serbia.”

In the late 1980s most political parties in Serbia turned to nationalism, while during the Yugoslav Wars of the 1990s, Serbian extremist groups branding themselves as “revived” Četniks were responsible for acts of aggression and war crimes committed in Croatia, Bosnia and Herzegovina and Kosovo.

Pissari noted that when the most radical parties fully took power in 2000, “nationalism then captured the state, and thus, power” leading to full rehabilitation of the Chetniks in the political and public sphere in Serbia. The process of Mihailović's rehabilitation, included a retrial that ended in 2015, formally overturned the 1946 verdict.

The campaign glorifying Mihailović as a hero proceeded in Serbian political discourse and media, drawing condemnation by human rights organizations like the Helsinki Committee as “morally unacceptable” and as provocation against Serbian neighbors who suffered from Četnik-perpetrated ethnic cleansing and genocide in various wars.

The latest revisionist initiatives by Belgrade mayor show that the political forces that perpetrated war crimes in the 1990s are still in power in Serbia. Populist invoking of Četnik legacy further polarizes the Serbian society and sends negative, warmongering signals across the whole Balkans region, hampering efforts for reconciliation, justice and peaceful coexistence.

Written by Global Voices Central & Eastern Europe