Paul Goble
Staunton, December 5 – The new law on the restitution of religious property was largely written on the basis of demands by the Moscow Patriarchate and designed to benefit the Russian Orthodox Church in the first instance, but under its term Russia’s Muslims too are going to press for the return of religious property seized from them by the Soviet authorities.
And while most Moscow commentaries have correctly pointed out that the Russian Orthodox Church stands to recover the largest amount of property, Muslim organizations have claims on buildings, furnishings and land in many parts of the Russian Federation and are already pressing their claims.
Their efforts puts the powers that be in Moscow in a difficult position. If officials follow the provisions of the legislation and return this property to Muslim groups, they are likely to offend many ethnic Russians who are upset by the appearance of mosques and minarets in their neighborhoods, a trend that would only increase if the law is obeyed.
But if the powers that be ignore the law and defer instead to popular feelings, that is likely to exacerbate anger among Muslims in the Russian Federation, who will view this as additional evidence that they do not enjoy all the rights guaranteed to them by the Constitution and in fact are becoming “second class” citizens as some of their leaders already say.
That is all the more likely because of several provisions of the law itself. On the one hand, the law requires that religious organizations specifically ask for the return of property, something that may lead more Islamic groups to form up in order to take advantage of that possibility.
And on the other, the law both specifies the times within which officials are to respond and requires that all decisions be posted on the Internet, a form of glasnost seldom followed in the past and one that means Muslims, just like others, will know quickly who is benefitting from the law and who is not.
Ethnogapher Akhmad Makarov suggests many places are likely to become the sites of such efforts. Among the sites Muslims are likely to seek the return of first are the Khan mosque in Karimov in Ryazan as well as mosques in Krasnodar, Stavropol. Armavir, Astrakhan and the Shiite mosque in Vladikavkaz (www.islamnews.ru/news-28276.html).
There is also “the serious problem” of the return of monuments like mausoleums, especially in Kasimov, various locations in the Middle Volga, “not to speak of the Caucasus.” Within traditional Islam, these places of pilgrimage and veneration are also defined as religious sites. Muslims are thus likely to demand their return as well.
There is at least potentially as even more explosive issue, one that Makarov does not mention or the new law specifically address: the possible return of the extensive waqf properties that the Soviet government seized in the 1920s. These enormous holdings, including land and businesses, provided support for mosques and other religious centers under the terms of Islamic law.
It is unlikely that Muslims will seek to recover them anytime soon, but the new law does open the door to that possibility in the future, especially given that ever more Muslim communities are seeking to create new waqf properties in the Russian Federation in order to ensure the continuing operation of mosques and medrassahs there.
But if most of the efforts by Muslims to seek the return of religious property will take place outside of Moscow, those in the Russian capital are certain to attract the most attention. Damit Gizzatulin, the deputy head of the Union of Muftis of Russia (SMR) indicated that his group is focusing its efforts there (www.islamnews.ru/news-28223.html).
Past efforts to secure the return of the capital’s Cathedral Mosque have not been successful, he noted, but “despite the complexities in the achievement of our goal, we are working on it,” inspired by the new possibilities that the law on restitution of religious property opens.
At the same time, he pointed out, however, the Muslim parishes which currently use the Historic Mosque on Bolshaya Tatarskaya and the Memorial Mosque on Poklonnaya have not yet prepared documents seeking the return of these facilities given that they currently have them on the basis of permanent use.
Gizatullin said that there were precedents that Moscow’s Muslims will use from the return of mosques 20 years ago in Krasnodar, Orenburg, and Ufa as well as the return of the Arkhangelsk mosque earlier this summer. That mosque, he noted, was “a simple wooden structure, without even a minaret,” and so officials were prepared to let it go.
He suggested that one of the flashpoints in this effort is likely to be in Stavropol. The mosque build there in the first years of the 20th century was seized and transformed into a museum, a use to which the building continues to be put. Local residents, the SMR leader said, oppose returning “their” museum to the Muslims.
But already this week, Islamrf.ru reported, one Muslim community has had success in getting its property back. The head of the Nizhne-Serginsk district of Sverdlovsk oblast, Valery Yeremeyev, has returned the “Repentence” mosque in the town of Mikhaylovsk to its original owners (www.islamrf.ru/news/umma/events/14367/).
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Window on Eurasia: Regions ‘Don’t Want to Live on Moscow Time,’ Moscow Paper Says
Paul Goble
Staunton, December 5 – Activists in three regions, including Samara oblast, Udmurtia, and Kamchatka kray, plan to stage demonstrations next week to protest President Dmitry Medvedev’s proposal last year to reduce the number of time zones across the Russian Federation, and they have called on residents of other federal subjects to join them.
In a report on this effort entitled, “In the Regions, They Don’t Want to Live on Moscow Time,” “Kommersant” says that following Medvedev’s proposal last November to reduce the number of time zones in the country from 11 to nine, five federal subjects shifted their clocks in March (www.kommersant.ru/doc.aspx?DocsID=1551732).
These include Chukotka, Kamchatka, Kuzbass, Samara and Udmurtia, whose leaders accepted Medvedev’s argument that this would improve economic links between them and the rest of the country. But if regional leaders went along, many of the people living in these regions did not, and “actions of protest by local residents began” almost immediately.
On Friday, the Samara oblast government agreed to allow an all-oblast meeting next Saturday against the shift of the oblast to Moscow time. The organizing committee calls itself “For Samara Time” and includes representatives of Just Russia, KPRF, Yabloko, and other public organizations.
Demonstrations are also planned for Kamchatka and Udmurtia next weekend, although these will hardly be something new. In Izhevsk, the capital of Udmurtia, “Kommersant” reports, protests have been going on non-stop “since the beginning of the “time” reform. Organizers hope, however, that nest weekend’s protest will be the largest to date.
Using the Internet, the opponents of the time reform in these three federal subjects have called on all Russian citizens living in areas affected by Medvedev’s time changes to join them in an all-Russian protest against such shifts unless the powers that be in the center first survey “the opinion of the population of the regions of Russia.”
This effort highlights three things: first, the growing willingness of Russians to protest against specific Moscow moves that directly affect them; second, the increasing activism in the regions rather than the capitals in this regard, and third, the expanding use of the Internet to link together activists in regions from one end of the country to another.
Next weekend’s protests against what many in the capital may see as a relatively trivial issue – after all, Russians had long experience in Soviet times with the use of “Moscow time” for transportation and other schedules – may thus become an occasion not so much for turning back the clock as for moving it forward in ways the powers that be may find hard to stop.
Staunton, December 5 – Activists in three regions, including Samara oblast, Udmurtia, and Kamchatka kray, plan to stage demonstrations next week to protest President Dmitry Medvedev’s proposal last year to reduce the number of time zones across the Russian Federation, and they have called on residents of other federal subjects to join them.
In a report on this effort entitled, “In the Regions, They Don’t Want to Live on Moscow Time,” “Kommersant” says that following Medvedev’s proposal last November to reduce the number of time zones in the country from 11 to nine, five federal subjects shifted their clocks in March (www.kommersant.ru/doc.aspx?DocsID=1551732).
These include Chukotka, Kamchatka, Kuzbass, Samara and Udmurtia, whose leaders accepted Medvedev’s argument that this would improve economic links between them and the rest of the country. But if regional leaders went along, many of the people living in these regions did not, and “actions of protest by local residents began” almost immediately.
On Friday, the Samara oblast government agreed to allow an all-oblast meeting next Saturday against the shift of the oblast to Moscow time. The organizing committee calls itself “For Samara Time” and includes representatives of Just Russia, KPRF, Yabloko, and other public organizations.
Demonstrations are also planned for Kamchatka and Udmurtia next weekend, although these will hardly be something new. In Izhevsk, the capital of Udmurtia, “Kommersant” reports, protests have been going on non-stop “since the beginning of the “time” reform. Organizers hope, however, that nest weekend’s protest will be the largest to date.
Using the Internet, the opponents of the time reform in these three federal subjects have called on all Russian citizens living in areas affected by Medvedev’s time changes to join them in an all-Russian protest against such shifts unless the powers that be in the center first survey “the opinion of the population of the regions of Russia.”
This effort highlights three things: first, the growing willingness of Russians to protest against specific Moscow moves that directly affect them; second, the increasing activism in the regions rather than the capitals in this regard, and third, the expanding use of the Internet to link together activists in regions from one end of the country to another.
Next weekend’s protests against what many in the capital may see as a relatively trivial issue – after all, Russians had long experience in Soviet times with the use of “Moscow time” for transportation and other schedules – may thus become an occasion not so much for turning back the clock as for moving it forward in ways the powers that be may find hard to stop.
Window on Eurasia: Karakalpak Separatism Again on the Rise, Analyst Says
Paul Goble
Staunton, December 5 – Karakalpakistan, which the Soviets repeatedly shifted between Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan and whose people are suffering as the result of the death of the Aral Sea, is increasingly a most unusual kind of separatism, with ever more of its people wanting their autonomous republic to be shifted from Uzbekistan to Kazakhstan.
In an article posted on Centrasia.ru today, Ilkham Iskhakkhodzha, identified as an independent expert, traces the complex geopolitical history of Karakalpakia and the shifting identities of its residents as part of a detaqiled survey of the current “ethno-political problems” of that region (www.centrasia.ru/news.php?st=1291498260).
The Karakalpaks, like many other minorities in Central Asian countries, attracted relatively little attention immediately after the breakup of the Soviet Union, when their concerns were viewed as distinctly secondary to the issues of the definition of the national identities of the new states there.
But as these former Soviet union republics “more precisely” designated their national interests, “old ethno-territorial problems” have re-emerged, “blocking the integrative processes in the region and [even] becoming a potential threat to the security of Central Asia,” according to Ishakkhodzha.
One of the most important of these has to do with the borders that these states inherited from Soviet times, borders that not only were first defined by Moscow in the early 1920s but were “frequently changed” even in the 1950s and 1960s among the union republics, with pieces of territory and entire autonomies being shifted back and forth among them.
Consequently, Karakalpaks have some experience with moving en bloc from one republic to another, and the worsening ecological and epidemiological situation there as a result of the drying up of the Aral Sea is intensifying these feelings, all the more so because many in the autonomous republic feel Tashkent is doing little or nothing to help them.
Moreover, several recent studies, highlighting how prosperous and important their region was a millennium or more ago – some people there refer to its past as that of “a Central Asian Egypt” -- and a sense that Karakalpaks are more closely tied to Kazakhs than to Uzbeks linguistically and culturally have only added to these feelings.
Because desertification is increasing – and more than 80 percent of the territory of Karakalpakia is already desert, “more than 250,000” Karakalpaks have already migrated to Kazakhstan, more than a fifth of the population. And that trend appears likely to increase despite efforts by Tashkent, including a ban on the sale of property by those who leave, to stop it.
The relations between Karakalpaks, Kazakhs and Uzbeks have long been complex. After the Bolshevik revolution, Karakalpakistan was included in the Turkestan ASSR, which in turn was part of the RSFSR. Then in 1920, the two parts of Karakalpakistan were united, after the formation of the Khorezm Peoples Soviet Republic.
In 1925, Karakalpakistan became an autonomous republic inside the Kazakh ASSR and only in 1936 was it transferred to the Uzbek SSR. Since the end of Soviet times, it has remained part of Uzbekistan as the Republic of Karakalpakistan, even though 60 percent of its population consists of “ethnically related” Karakalpaks and Kazakhs.
“One of the consequences of the six years Karakalpakistan was part of Kazakhstan was the appearance of territorial problems,” Ishakkhodzha says, pointing both to 55,000 hectares transferred to Karakalpakistan and disputes over the island of Vozrozhdeniya located in the Aral Sea.
That island, the writer notes, has been the subject of dispute between Tashkent and Astana ever since it ceased to be a closed Soviet military base devoted to biological weapons in 1988. Moscow divided the island between eh two republics, with 79 percent of its area going to Kazakhstan and 21 percent to Uzbekistan. But n 1999, Astana asked Tashkent for all of it.
Tashkent refused as it has refused to do anything about Karakalpak demands. The autonomous republic forms a third of Uzbekistan and contains much of its reserves of oil, gas, titanium, and gold. Moreover, through the autonomy pass strategically important rail lines and highways.
But Tashkent’s refusal has not ended Karakalpak activism, Ishakkhodzha continues. In the 1990s, the Khalk Mapi [Interests of the People] movement emerged under the leadership of Marat Aralbayev sought greater autonomy from Tashkent. More recently, Karakalpaks have formed the Free Karakalpakistan Group and turned to the Internet to promote their goals.
Among this group’s slogans, the writer says, are calls for separating Karakalpakistan from Uzbekistan and uniting it instead with Kazakhstan or even declaring Karakalpakistan an independent country, through the use of the referendum procedure that the Uzbekistan Constitution itself allows.
In December 1990, the Supreme Soviet of the Karakalpak ASSR adopted a sovereignty declaration, and only in January 1992 did it again become an autonomy within Uzbekistan. But it retains its own constitution, adopted in April 1993, and under the Uzbek constitution enjoys a status within Uzbekistan much like the union republics did in Soviet times.
Among these rights, at least on paper, is the right, contained in Article 72, to “leave the Republic of Uzbekistan on the basis of a universal referendum of the people of Karakalpakistan.” Ishakkhodzha says “everyone understands” that Tashkent isn’t going to allow one, just like everyone understood that the Soviets wouldn’t allow the union republics to leave either.
Staunton, December 5 – Karakalpakistan, which the Soviets repeatedly shifted between Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan and whose people are suffering as the result of the death of the Aral Sea, is increasingly a most unusual kind of separatism, with ever more of its people wanting their autonomous republic to be shifted from Uzbekistan to Kazakhstan.
In an article posted on Centrasia.ru today, Ilkham Iskhakkhodzha, identified as an independent expert, traces the complex geopolitical history of Karakalpakia and the shifting identities of its residents as part of a detaqiled survey of the current “ethno-political problems” of that region (www.centrasia.ru/news.php?st=1291498260).
The Karakalpaks, like many other minorities in Central Asian countries, attracted relatively little attention immediately after the breakup of the Soviet Union, when their concerns were viewed as distinctly secondary to the issues of the definition of the national identities of the new states there.
But as these former Soviet union republics “more precisely” designated their national interests, “old ethno-territorial problems” have re-emerged, “blocking the integrative processes in the region and [even] becoming a potential threat to the security of Central Asia,” according to Ishakkhodzha.
One of the most important of these has to do with the borders that these states inherited from Soviet times, borders that not only were first defined by Moscow in the early 1920s but were “frequently changed” even in the 1950s and 1960s among the union republics, with pieces of territory and entire autonomies being shifted back and forth among them.
Consequently, Karakalpaks have some experience with moving en bloc from one republic to another, and the worsening ecological and epidemiological situation there as a result of the drying up of the Aral Sea is intensifying these feelings, all the more so because many in the autonomous republic feel Tashkent is doing little or nothing to help them.
Moreover, several recent studies, highlighting how prosperous and important their region was a millennium or more ago – some people there refer to its past as that of “a Central Asian Egypt” -- and a sense that Karakalpaks are more closely tied to Kazakhs than to Uzbeks linguistically and culturally have only added to these feelings.
Because desertification is increasing – and more than 80 percent of the territory of Karakalpakia is already desert, “more than 250,000” Karakalpaks have already migrated to Kazakhstan, more than a fifth of the population. And that trend appears likely to increase despite efforts by Tashkent, including a ban on the sale of property by those who leave, to stop it.
The relations between Karakalpaks, Kazakhs and Uzbeks have long been complex. After the Bolshevik revolution, Karakalpakistan was included in the Turkestan ASSR, which in turn was part of the RSFSR. Then in 1920, the two parts of Karakalpakistan were united, after the formation of the Khorezm Peoples Soviet Republic.
In 1925, Karakalpakistan became an autonomous republic inside the Kazakh ASSR and only in 1936 was it transferred to the Uzbek SSR. Since the end of Soviet times, it has remained part of Uzbekistan as the Republic of Karakalpakistan, even though 60 percent of its population consists of “ethnically related” Karakalpaks and Kazakhs.
“One of the consequences of the six years Karakalpakistan was part of Kazakhstan was the appearance of territorial problems,” Ishakkhodzha says, pointing both to 55,000 hectares transferred to Karakalpakistan and disputes over the island of Vozrozhdeniya located in the Aral Sea.
That island, the writer notes, has been the subject of dispute between Tashkent and Astana ever since it ceased to be a closed Soviet military base devoted to biological weapons in 1988. Moscow divided the island between eh two republics, with 79 percent of its area going to Kazakhstan and 21 percent to Uzbekistan. But n 1999, Astana asked Tashkent for all of it.
Tashkent refused as it has refused to do anything about Karakalpak demands. The autonomous republic forms a third of Uzbekistan and contains much of its reserves of oil, gas, titanium, and gold. Moreover, through the autonomy pass strategically important rail lines and highways.
But Tashkent’s refusal has not ended Karakalpak activism, Ishakkhodzha continues. In the 1990s, the Khalk Mapi [Interests of the People] movement emerged under the leadership of Marat Aralbayev sought greater autonomy from Tashkent. More recently, Karakalpaks have formed the Free Karakalpakistan Group and turned to the Internet to promote their goals.
Among this group’s slogans, the writer says, are calls for separating Karakalpakistan from Uzbekistan and uniting it instead with Kazakhstan or even declaring Karakalpakistan an independent country, through the use of the referendum procedure that the Uzbekistan Constitution itself allows.
In December 1990, the Supreme Soviet of the Karakalpak ASSR adopted a sovereignty declaration, and only in January 1992 did it again become an autonomy within Uzbekistan. But it retains its own constitution, adopted in April 1993, and under the Uzbek constitution enjoys a status within Uzbekistan much like the union republics did in Soviet times.
Among these rights, at least on paper, is the right, contained in Article 72, to “leave the Republic of Uzbekistan on the basis of a universal referendum of the people of Karakalpakistan.” Ishakkhodzha says “everyone understands” that Tashkent isn’t going to allow one, just like everyone understood that the Soviets wouldn’t allow the union republics to leave either.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
Posts
