Search Results

An exploration is made of the nature and scope of de-communization and political justice in Czechoslovakia (the Czech Republic, Slovakia), Albania, Bulgaria, Romania, Poland and Hungary, to each of which a section of the chapter is devoted. The term ‘political justice’ is here meant to refer to proceedings held to try crimes (generally related to political repression) committed by outgoing regimes. With the exception of Albania, transitions to democracy in these countries were initiated in 1989, and in all cases, great political tensions arose from demands for the punishment of former communist authorities and those responsible for political repression. These demands formed part of a wider political and cultural process, namely the reworking of public discourse on the nature of the communist regime, and their nature and results varied considerably from country to country; for example, only two – the former Czechoslovakia and Albania – actually carried out purges that affected large numbers of people. This chapter attempts to answer to two main questions: (1) what explains the differences in the scope and nature of the policies adopted, and (2) what impact have they had on the process of democratization. The focus is on the rationality of the political actors or the role that anti-communist campaigns had in shaping political competition, rather than the moral and legal debates surrounding the issue.

Examines past obstacles and presents opportunities for the development of regional cooperation, which, in the long run, remains a necessary precondition for peace and stability in south‐eastern Europe. Three dimensions of regional destabilization are addressed: the final disintegration of Yugoslavia (Serbia, Montenegro, Vojvodina), the direct destabilization of Kosovo's immediate neighbours (Macedonia and Albania) and the negative impact on other regional actors (Bulgaria, Romania, Greece, etc.). The chapter also summarizes the economic impact of the NATO intervention and the mixed record of the Stability Pact designed to foster post‐conflict regional cooperation. It argues that the real test for the moral issues that legitimized the intervention in Kosovo will be the European Union's (EU) ability to sustain a long‐term commitment to help establish a European future for the Balkans.

A second seventh‐century Armenian history, dating from soon after 682, is disinterred from the universal history of Caucasian Albania, put together by Movses Daskhurants'i in the tenth century. Like ps. Sebeos, this seventh‐century historian is shown to have refrained from introducing his own views into the material he extracted from his four principal sources. The information supplied is demonstrably of high quality and extends historical coverage to Turkish diplomatic and military activity in Transcaucasia in the 620s and forward in time to the caliphate of Mu‘awiya (660–80). Especially valuable are accounts of Arab operations in Mesopotamia and of two visits paid by the leading Albanian prince to Mu‘awiya's court at Damascus. The Khuzistan Chronicle, by contrast, presents a pared‐down version of history (from 579 to 652), enlivened with anecdotal material, of relatively little interest. However, a continuation includes a well‐articulated account of the Arab conquest of Khuzistan.

Introduces the book by discussing the symbolic destruction of churches, monasteries and other monuments and sacred places of the Serbian Orthodox Church, the Catholic Church in Croatia and Bosnia‐Herzegovina, and the Yugoslav Muslim Religious Organization (Islamic community), and also in Albania that occurred during the various wars in the Yugoslav region in the 1990s. It then discusses myth in relation to the nation‐state. The last and main part of the chapter gives accounts of the four mainstream Yugoslav religious institutions (the Serbian Orthodox Church, Croatian Catholicism, the Muslim Religious Organization (Islamic community), and the Church and Nation of Macedonia), and also discusses the religious minority groups of the region (there are around 40, of which 14 are listed), and interfaith relations.

This chapter compares information on self-perceived food consumption adequacy from the subjective modules of household surveys with standard quantitative indicators, namely calorie consumption, dietary diversity, and anthropometry. Datasets from four countries are analysed: Albania, Indonesia, Madagascar, and Nepal. The chapter concludes that while subjective food adequacy indicators may provide insight on the vulnerability or ‘relative’ dimension of food insecurity, they are too blunt an indicator for food insecurity targeting. An effort towards developing improved subjective food security modules that are contextually sensitive should go hand in hand with research into how to improve household survey data for food security measurement along other dimensions of the phenomenon, particularly calorie consumption.

After American rejection of the Covenant, which London could not influence, the League was overshadowed by the Allied Supreme Council which tackled the main post‐war issues. The British supported the Canadian attempt to delete article 10 (the territorial guarantee) but this was not seen as an important issue. Nor was the elaboration of procedures for sanctions under article 16 (the guarantee of peace) through the nineteen resolutions of 1921. Lord Curzon succeeded Balfour as Foreign Secretary. Rejecting balance of power politics, he valued the League as embodying moral principles in the conduct of international affairs. The League was involved in the resolution of several crises including Armenia (1920), North Persia (1920), Vilna (1920–3), Upper Silesia (1921), and Albania (1921). Its record was mixed. Meanwhile, Cecil, aiming to replace Lloyd George with a high‐minded coalition under Grey, turned the League of Nations Union into a significant force in British politics.

Since agriculture accounts for a significant portion in Albania's total GDP and because of its large farming population, agrarian reform has played no small part in the economic reforms imposed there. Because of this reform, land and other such assets were distributed to farm workers, which furthered the decollectivization of collective farms and the transition to the adoption of private land ownership. As such, the individual family farm became the fundamental farm organization. The effects on Albania of these reforms are found to be different from the effects experienced by other Central and Eastern European countries (CEECs). This is because land in large-scale farming in the other CEECs still accounts for a sizeable share of the total land and land was mostly restituted to its former owners. Improved resource allocation and labour incentives initiated growth in agricultural output after the reform. This chapter identifies the determinants of agricultural privatization policies and land reform, particularly in the case of Albania.

In the political history of the Ottoman Empire, the long nineteenth century (1789–1915) stands out as a period of far-reaching, rapid change in the nature of the state. While the persistence of old practices should not be assumed along all frontiers of the empire, where it was applied the mutual support arrangement worked reasonably well at both ends of the nineteenth century. The two cases examined in this chapter illustrate this in a surprising fashion. The parallels are unexpected because among the notables involved, Tepedelenli Ali Pasha (1787–1820) in Epirus (Greece and Albania) and the Al Sabah and Al Thani shaykhs (1870–1915) in eastern Arabia carry reputations as unwilling subjects who rebelled against the sultan. It was largely due to the centre's failure to continue to uphold its part of the mutual support arrangement.

Chapter 3 examines how adversarial framing on the Macedonian issue constrained a moderate government in Greece from capitalizing on its peace potential in the early 1990s when major demonstrations in Thessaloniki and Athens attracted at least a million people each. At the same time, it asks why conflicts related to Turkey or Albania received little attention despite ethnic antagonisms and an alleged “civilizational divide” between Greece and its predominantly Muslim neighbors. Drawing evidence from the Hellenic Parliament, this chapter demonstrates that on Turkish and Albanian issues, a sizeable moderate camp championed reconciliation and compromise, maintaining a balance between hardliners and moderates in Greece. Even so, hardliners monopolized the framing of Greece’s Macedonian policies, thus shaping an early nationalist consensus. By adopting this hegemonic frame, mainstream Greek political elites prevented adaptation to new realities in the 1990s, obstructing a feasible peace agreement between the two nations.

This epilogue considers how far Albania has come from a dilapidated, fascist-era state to a modern nation. Albanians’ lives have vastly improved since the country’s transition from Stalinism to democracy. They travel, they debate, and they change their government. Cafés and restaurants have sprouted in Tirana. However, poverty and violence persist. Two and a half decades after communism, Albania still needs media, police, and courts that serve as honest arbiters of disputes. This epilogue suggests that Sali Berisha’s authoritarianism was made worse by the lack of a separation of powers and checks on his rule. It argues that Albanians, especially the younger generations, hold the key to their future by constantly demanding responsibility, transparency, and accountability from their leaders.

This chapter focuses on the politics of humanitarian intervention carried out by international and intrastate institutions in the crises in the Balkan territories of Bosnia, Kosovo, and Albania. It argues that over the past decade there has been a growth in the “gray zone” between humanitarian intervention, military humanitarianism, and the humanitarian war, of which collaborating academics are largely uncritical. The chapter discusses the boundaries of specific states to disorders without borders and the obscuring of the true needs of civil society through the politics of intervention.

In this prologue, the author describes the changes that have occurred in Albania since the first free elections were held in the country after four decades of isolation and dictatorship. Recalling his time in Tirana, the capital city, in July 1993, the author reflects on the freedom that Albanians now enjoy following the collapse of the Stalinist regime led by Enver Hoxha. He notes some of the signs suggesting that Albania was marching towards democracy, such as Albanians traveling abroad for the first time or churches and mosques sprouting across the country. He also compares Albania’s current situation with that in the previous regime, when people had to endure brutality and repression.

This chapter focuses on Enver Hoxha’s more than four decades of dictatorship in Albania. Hoxha lived a complex life. He was a cultured man who studied in France, wore dapper suits, knew history, and enjoyed literature. On the other hand, he was a paranoid and brutal dictator with a ravenous appetite for power who eliminated opponents real and perceived. He created enemies, distrusted friends, and ruled Albania with a mix of cruelty and charm. This chapter chronicles Hoxha’s rise to power in 1944 and examines his repressive measures as leader of Albania, along with his foreign policy and his attempt to eliminate his successor, Prime Minister Mehmet Shehu. Hoxha died in April 1985 after suffering a second heart attack, marking the end of his oppressive regime.