The book we are bringing to the reader’s attention is a type of historical chrestomathy concerning the processes of Roma civic emancipation before the Second World War in the region of Central, South-Eastern, and Eastern Europe. It presents key historical sources, accompanied by notes and comments. This format may seem somewhat unusual in the context of the contemporary rapid development of the multidisciplinary scientific field, popularly known as Romani Studies: that is, the study of the Roma, a term which seems to have replaced that of Gypsies, the latter being an English translation of the diverse designations for this community, in different languages. We nevertheless chose this format, given the urgent need to introduce into academic circulation the original sources on the Roma in as many original languages as available. The sources presented in this book were selected in order to illustrate the early development of Roma civic emancipation. The volume is intended as an aid to studying and researching the subject. We also hope that our book may find its way into universities and secondary schools as a textbook.
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The main purpose of this book is to propose a new approach and to lay the foundations for a new reading of Roma history. When talking about Roma history, one often hears complaints about the lack of written sources. However, the opposite is true. The preserved sources are numerous but, at the same time, under-researched. The main issue is in the two predetermined discourses in which Roma history has been (and continues to be) articulated by researchers: namely, by approaching the Roma as a threat and problem and/or as victims. In the past, beginning with the emergence of Romani Studies as a specific field of study (Grellmann, 1787), the so-called Gypsies have been researched mainly from the point of view of solving the problems they were seen to pose to the modern state. In the aftermath of the Second World War, the paradigm gradually shifted and has often set the focus primarily on Roma’s grim historical experience, as well as on the various repressive state policies that fostered it.
However, both discourses, though radically opposite, are united in their attitude to the Roma themselves, who are viewed as passive objects of these policies rather than as active creators of their own history. In this way, the scholars are not trying to discover sources written by Roma at all and thus the Roma point of view is de facto absent, and the reaction of the Roma themselves (or lack thereof) to the policies implemented towards them, as well as their visions about the future of their communities, are neglected. Therefore, one of the main goals of this book is to propose a new research paradigm through which the Roma in their longue durée history became political subject as creators of their own destiny (an issue that continues to be especially relevant today).
We think that the time has come for Roma voices in history be heard and this is the main reason for choosing the title of this book. In our attempts to introduce and popularise this new approach to the history of the Roma, in which they are perceived and presented as architects of their own lives and future, we have often encountered, even in academia, many long-standing prejudices, which further motivated us to continue our work in the chosen direction.
Some years ago we corresponded with a colleague, one of the creators of the impressive series Discourses of Collective Identity in Central and Southeast Europe 1770-1945 of Central European University Press, which presents the most important texts that triggered and shaped the processes of nation-building in the region of Central and South-Eastern Europe. He could not comprehend our question as to why Roma authored texts were omitted from this selection. For him, the Roma were (and continued to be, even after our conversation) completely different from other peoples in the region – that is, a socially marginalized community that is not capable to create its national vision, nor to formulate and publicly present its political ideas. In the end, this book series succeed in “bringing together and making accessible basic texts of the respective national tradition” and to “challenge to the self-centered and ‘isolationist’ historical narrative” (Ersoy et al., 2010, p. 1), but Roma remained excluded from it, yet again.
This widespread prejudice about the inequality of the Roma with the other European nations alongside which they have lived together for centuries continues to occur today. In fact, even some scholars who deal especially with Roma history presume: “Due to the marginal historical situation of Roma groups, there are few sources about Roma and even fewer written by Roma themselves” (Majtényi & Majtényi, 2016, p. 3). We can recently observe some progress in this regard, but it often takes a strange direction. After one of our public lectures devoted to the Roma civic emancipation movement in the period between the two World Wars, illustrated with a number of written sources collected in archives across the region, and in Roma publications, a colleague commented that there was nothing in the archives about the history of the Roma that deserves attention; if there was any material, they were a matter for the police, and they presented the Roma only as violators of the law. This is obviously a brilliant example of a confirmation bias, which comes as no surprise in a context in which Gypsy (now Roma) stigma is both historically and socio-economically omnipresent, as well as scientifically justified. So, in the description of a research project, it can be read that “the documents related to the Roma past, available in archives, are about them but never by them” (sic! – authors note), and that presented research done in this direction “combines oral history research with anthropology, ethnology, sociology, and media studies” (The Untold Story, 2019).
Sometimes it can be read also that history is irrelevant to Gypsies themselves (Okely, 1983, pp. 1-27; Mróz & Mirga, 1994, pp. 27-32), or “for them, identity is constructed and constantly remade in the present in relations with significant others, not something inherited from the past” (Stewart, 1997, p. 28), and that: “They have no fixed history. They have no story to tell about their origins. […] They have no shrines, no anthems.” (Scott, 2009, p. 235). Historical consciousness among the Roma is not an offspring of the modern age, which is the age of nationalism, and, accordingly, the time of the creation of national history. In the pre-modern era, this historical consciousness was expressed in folklore forms, mostly through legends about the origin of the community, offering at the folklore level answers to key questions from their historical past and present, e.g. ‘How the Lord created the Gypsies’, ‘Why Gypsies are dispersed through all world’, ‘Why don’t Gypsies have their own state?’, ‘Why don’t Gypsies have their own church?’, ‘Why don’t Gypsies have their own alphabet?’, etc. (Marushiakova & Popov, 1994; 1995). In the modern era, some Roma representatives already lay the foundations of their national historical narrative, and this process continues to develop to this day, including cases in which it takes quasi-historical forms.
The best answer to such categorical (and completely unfounded) claims about the lack of evidence of Roma history, written by the Roma themselves, lack of shrines, anthems, etc. is the current chrestomathy. Most of the materials included in this volume are original texts written by Roma; for the rest of the material, Roma authorship is secondary, the views of Roma are presented through their public messages and interviews in the press, or through official documents of state institutions, in the preparation of which Roma were actively involved. And this is only a small part of the historical sources available – with more time and with the involvement of a larger team, at least a few more such collections could easily be prepared.
In this book we are referring primarily to the materials that are known to us and which represent only the tip of the iceberg; how much and what kind of historical sources still remain undiscovered in archives and libraries worldwide and which have not been put into academic circulation, hardly anyone can determine. Just one example in this regard: a total of 22 (sic!) Gypsy/Roma newspapers and journals have thus far been discovered in the region of Central, South-Eastern and Eastern Europe during the period from the beginning of the 20th century until the Second World War (see Annex II), not all have been preserved until today or been found yet. The newspapers Известия на циганската евангелска мисия (Bulletin of Gypsy Evangelical Mission) and Тербие (Upbringing) disappeared from all Bulgarian libraries and archives. In Russia we were able to discover only one issue of the Romani language newspaper Сталинцо (Stalinist), published in the 1930s in the city of Mineralnye Vody, in the USSR. This issue is No. 137 (i.e. 136 issues were published previously), but how many issues have since been released is not yet known. The vast majority of the archives in the North Caucasus region were destroyed during the Second World War, including all issues of the three Roma-language newspapers – Сталинцо, Пало большевистско колхозо (About the Bolshevik’s kolkhoz), the title of the third newspaper, mentioned in sources (GARF, f. Р 3316, op. 28, d. 794, l. 31; Совещание, 1936, pp. 61-72), is unknown; as have all the documents concerning the Gypsy Kolkhozes which existed in this region, and those concerning the National Gypsy Village Council in Kangly village, in the region of Mineralnye Vody. We can only hope that some of these materials may still be found in the future, within private archives.
Some archives and libraries were destroyed during the Second World War elsewhere too, most notably in the USSR and Poland. Much more, however, escaped this fate; and what is still stored there about the history of the Roma is impossible to guess, even approximately. Our experience nevertheless shows that along with well-kept and fully accessible archives, there are still archives that have never even been catalogued or are not catalogued in an accessible way. At times, even information found in published catalogues or card catalogues may be misleading or incorrect, or some sources may be misplaced in the wrong folders. Moreover, numerous archives have only just begun their digitization, which makes their fond temporary inaccessible for the researcher.
Returning to the question of oral history, we would like to emphasise that we do not in any way deny or underestimate its importance. Moreover, about two decades ago, we prepared and published six volumes of materials on folklore and oral history of Roma in the Balkans (Marushiakova & Popov, 1994; 1995; 1997a; 1998). For us, the oral history of the Roma can (and should!) be an extremely important source, but it is necessary that this history is not opposed to classical historical knowledge, but combined with it. The two methodological approaches are, in fact, intended to serve as a constant complementarity and verification of the results obtained (it is interesting to note that the authors of the project cited above envisage interdisciplinary collaboration with many other sciences, but not with history!). That is precisely why in this compilation of historical sources our aspiration is, wherever possible, in the comments to the individual parts, to carry out precisely such a combination of the two approaches. Over the course of more than three decades, during our fieldwork in the countries of Central, South-Eastern and Eastern Europe, we have collected a wealth of material from Roma oral history, enabling us to pursue this complex approach (at least where possible, which is not always the case because of the specifics of Roma historical memory).
Another important issue related to the available historical sources from a particular period of time is the possibility of supplementing and enriching these testimonies with the preserved written memories of direct participants in these events. Here, however, a more general problem related to the specificity of historical knowledge as a whole comes to the fore, namely the significance and value of the memoirs of active participants in given historical events, which were written sometime after these events. In such a situation, the historical realities described will inevitably be subjected to editing and even self-censorship caused by the distance in time and, in our case, caused also by the new social realities of the time in which these memoirs were written. Such editing is conditioned by a number of factors, including a rethinking of the events which consequently leads to their modification, often driven by the desire to create a certain historical narrative (in our case, it is Roma historical narrative). What exactly this narrative will eventually be, depends on a variety of factors, and each case is unique. However, it is imperative that any such source is critically analysed from this point of view and verified by comparing it with other historical evidence (archival documents, the press, etc.).
Combining materials derived from a variety of historical sources is of particular importance in seeking to answer another, no less important question: a methodological question of principle, concerning the relationship between the history of legal and administrative acts on the one hand, and actual history, on the other. We refer here to the fact that, in many cases, as shown below, adopting specific legislative rules and their actual implementation are more or less in serious discrepancy (e.g. the existence of a decree prohibiting nomadic way of life does not mean a termination of the wandering). By referring to legislation we should not forget the different existing realities in individual countries, for instance, as reflected in the famous sayings of Russian satirist Mikhail Saltykov-Shchedrin: “The enormous strictness of the laws is compensated by the non-bindingness of their implementation”. According to a well-known aphorism, one thing is to want something, another is to be able to do it, and third and fourth is to accomplish it. This principle applies, to a greater or lesser extent, to the whole of human history, including a number of historical events presented in this book (see, for example, Chapter 2 about the complete discrepancy between the legislative settlement and the real situation in the case of the Gypsy nomadism in Bulgaria).
Unfortunately, in historical studies of Roma, the emphasis has thus far been on the anti-Gypsy legislation, and much less attention has been paid to its implementation (or not) and the results obtained from it. To us, equally important are both sides of the historical process – the aims and the results of certain political actions targeting Roma. Most significant is also to reveal the perspective of the Roma themselves and their responses to existing social and political realities. It is the combination of these two views (of the authorities and of the Roma) that reveals the versatility and different dimensions of the actual historical process. This is the reason why, in the comments to the published sources, we seek a critical assessment of the subsequent actual results of the state political acts directed towards Roma (at least where appropriate data from oral history or other sources is available).
In analysing the processes of Roma civic emancipation, it is thus a fundamental principle to put them in line with the general historical context, and especially to take into account the societal position of the Roma within specific historical realities. This is indispensable, because in the whole history of Romani (and formerly of Gypsy) Studies, perhaps the most serious research problem is the specific ‘Roma-centrism’ that puts Roma in the centre of the research attention and leads towards neglecting their surrounding realities. By such an approach, Roma are practically transformed into a kind of a centre of the world, around which all human history revolves, which is obviously not true. To clarify this, we will give only one example in this regard. Not too long ago, we were asked if it is true that during the times of the Communist Regimes in Central, South-Eastern and Eastern Europe it was forbidden for Roma to travel abroad. Of course, a short answer to this is ‘yes’. However, such an answer could be interpreted as noting to specific discriminative measures only towards Gypsies. Yet, moving beyond the frames of ‘Roma-centrism’ the full answer would be that there was no legal or administrative act in any of the countries in the region which prohibited Gypsies (which was the official name of the community at the time) from travelling abroad. However, this was true not only for Gypsies, but for all citizens, and Gypsies were in no way demarcated from them. In practice, however, the situation was fundamentally different. Again, this applied not only for Gypsies but for all citizens of the countries of the region. In other words, while travelling abroad was not, in fact, forbidden, numerous obstacles and different kinds of requirements virtually deprived socialist countries’ citizens of this opportunity. The existence of a negligible percentage of exceptions (both Roma and non-Roma) does not change this reality. The interpretation of the world (both historically and in present times) through the ‘Roma-centric prism’ practically stigmatises the community yet again, transforming the Roma into something different from all other peoples, and discrediting Romani Studies by sending them into “splendid isolation” (Willems, 1997, p. 306) of academic ghetto. All the negatives, yet again, are at the expense of both the Roma themselves and of Romani Studies.
The avoidance of these pitfalls is only possible if a new, different starting point is sought for a comprehensive historical analysis. Such a starting point, for all our analysis of the historical sources presented in the following pages, and for the conclusions, is in our firm belief that Roma exist concomitantly in different dimensions. For us, it is an undoubted fact, that they are not an outcast social phenomenon, a hermetically isolated and self-sufficient social and cultural system; but they have always existed at one and the same time in at least two main dimensions (Marushiakova & Popov, 2016a, p. 15). This fundamental principle is based on the juxtaposition between ‘community’ and ‘society’; the distinction ‘community – society’ is used here with altered content cleared from its evolutionary hierarchy (Tönnies, 1887) and, in our understanding, it concerns the relations between two simultaneously existing typological phenomena intertwined in one inseparable unity. In this case, ‘community’ refers to the Roma as an ethnic formation that is clearly distinguished from its surrounding population, and ‘society’ refers to the Roma as ethnically based integral parts of the respective nation-states of which they are citizens. These two main dimensions may, in short, be called ‘ethnicity’ and ‘civic nationality’ (Marushiakova & Popov, 2016a, p. 15).
This distinction between the different dimensions in which Roma exist is directly reflected in their multidimensional, structurally hierarchical, and contextually publicly demonstrated identity (Ibid.). It means that in different contexts, in different life situations, one of the dimensions of this identity (and not only of the two main ones) turns out to be the leading one and comes to the fore. This could be the group, family, class, gender, or any other identity. And, most importantly, these dimensions do not oppose each other nor are they mutually exclusive. On the contrary, they are in a constant (albeit historically and situationally variable) balance. This approach enables us not to enter into a discussion about the historical and contemporary dimensions of Roma identity (see van Baar, 2011a; van Baar & Kóczé, 2020). Whether this identity will be referred to as ‘intersectionality’ (Kocze & Popa, 2009), ‘hybridity’ (Silverman, 2012), ‘superdiversity’ (Tremlett, 2014, pp. 830-848) ‘political’ (McGarry, 2014), or with some other current term is not that important, because it does not change its essence.
One can often read that Roma in the regions of Central, South-Eastern and Eastern Europe are “un peuple sans patrie” (Stewart, 1991, pp. 39-52), or “citizens of the world and nowhere” (Acton & Gheorghe, 2001, pp. 54-70). This however doesn’t reflect the realities of the Roma life in the regions of Central, South-Eastern, and Eastern Europe. Their homelands, for centuries, have been the countries where they live, and we know that their civic national identity is kept even in conditions of migration, at least among the first generations (Marushiakova & Popov, 2018a, pp. 88-100). However, it is worth emphasising that, whether intentionally or not, it is precisely this dimension, namely the civic national identity of the Roma, that receives the least attention from the vast majority of researchers.
This is particularly visible in what is presently perhaps the most attractive subfield of Romani Studies, research of Roma migration from Eastern to Western Europe. The vast majority of researchers there do not cover the real social dimensions of these migrations, thus neglecting that they are part of the mass national flows of cross-border labour mobility within the European Union, and prefer to focus only on the most visible part of the iceberg – Roma migration as a separate community (most often on Roma beggars from Romania) (Ibid).
The reasons for this approach are many and varied, and here is not the place for it to be analysed. Therefore we will only note that in the era of modern nation-states, without acknowledging the existence of a civic national identity, as a separate dimension in the complex multi-dimensional structure of Roma identities, the very processes of the emergence and development of the Roma civic emancipation movement cannot be explained or understood.
It is on the very basis of this distinction between the two main dimensions of Roma identity that defines the basic concept used in the preparation of this book was derived. This notion is Roma civic emancipation, which can be synthesised as a movement to achieve a harmonious balance between the two main dimensions of the existence of Roma (community and society), which finds its expression in their respective identities, and which is acceptable both for the Roma themselves and for the macro-society. The Roma movement for civic emancipation is a constant struggle to achieve the equal civic status of the Roma as an ethnic community and as individual citizens with their rights in all fields of all social life (political, religious, educational, economic, cultural, etc.).
Roma civic emancipation should not, in any case, be mistaken or replaced with a process of voluntary ethnic assimilation of the Roma community in the composition of the majority in the countries in which they live, nor in the composition of other national minorities. For centuries, such processes have been going on continuously, both on a personal or family basis (e.g. in cases of ethnically-mixed marriages), as well as for whole sections of the community in cases of so-called preferred ethnic identity (Marushiakova & Popov, 2015, pp. 26-54). In the case of Roma civic emancipation, however, these processes move in the opposite direction, and the goal is not the self-liquidation of the community. On the contrary, the goal is preservation and development of Roma precisely as an ethnic community within their respective civic nations, combined with struggles for civic equality with the means and measures of the respective period and state (e.g. setting up organisations, union, societies, schools, press publications, plans for work among the Roma, etc.).
On this fundamental objective is based a broader understanding of the overall dimensions of Roma civic emancipation, which is reflected in the selection of historical sources included in this book. At first glance, source-materials that appear not to be directly related to its core topic are also included in our chrestomathy: such as, for example, the ethnically-based professional associations, mutual, charitable, cultural, and sports societies, or so-called ‘New (Evangelical) Gypsy churches’, or even the participation of Roma in the communist movement which was perceived as an opportunity for a radical change of the society, and accordingly of the Roma’s place in it. However, put in a more general historical context, these forms of social, political or religious organisation of an ethnic community, to one degree or another, in one form or another, ultimately fit into the general flow of the movement for Roma civic emancipation, and this is precisely the reason for their inclusion in the general content of the book. It should be especially emphasised that, here, Roma civic emancipation is perceived as part of a global social process of re-arrangement of group solidarities, expressed in the national building process, which is a product of modernity (Todorova, 2005), in the context of the entangled history of Central, South-Eastern and Eastern Europe.
Taking into account all these circumstances, the leading approach in presenting the published materials in this volume is to give priority to historical sources concerning the established Roma civil society organisations and their activities in the field of Roma civic emancipation, because they are the key tool for the formation of the public voice of the Roma community. In fact, it is the new civil society organisations that are the leading ones on meso-level and are the platform on which the negotiation takes place both between the internal divisions within the community itself and between the community as a whole and the majority society. Besides, as already mentioned, this key line also includes other historical evidence that reveals the multidimensionality of the general process of Roma civic emancipation, such as the participation of Roma in the common political, religious and cultural life of their respective civic nations, an integral part of which they are. Accordingly, in the comments that accompany these published historical sources, their critical analysis is made and the individual constituent fragments of the entire Roma history are contextualised.
This book also uses other key concepts that need further clarification – elite, visionary, and activism/activist. In clarifying these notions, and especially the overall dimensions of the processes of formation and development of Roma civic emancipation, we, similarly to Eric Hobsbawm, are benefiting from the fundamental work of Miroslav Hroch (2005), “which opened the new era in the analysis of the composition of national liberation movements” (Hobsbawm, 1990, p. 4).
According to Miroslav Hroch, this process comprises three chronological phases:
Phase A: Activists strive to lay the foundation for a national identity; they research the cultural, linguistic, social and historical attributes of a non-dominant group in order to raise awareness of the common traits and unity of the community;
Phase B: A new range of activists emerges, who seeks to win over as many of their ethnic group as possible to the project of creating a future nation; an active process of propaganda and the agitation of these national ideas among their ethnic community begins;
Phase C: The majority of the population forms a mass movement; a full social movement with its own program comes into being and the movement differentiates in diverse wings (Hroch, 2005).
Of course, each of the national movements in the region has its historical specificities, but there are many common traits. At the beginning of the movement for Roma civic emancipation (similarly to other nationalities) is a relatively limited circle of the Roma community representatives. They are those who formulate the aims and tasks of this movement, and accordingly, at a later stage, they take over its leadership and carry on their shoulders its basic and main activities. This is the new, civic elite of the community, which is already working in new, social dimensions, and differs significantly from the old traditional Roma elite, whose functions were limited mainly within their own small part of the community (which, however, does not preclude the transformation of some of its representatives into new roles and with new functions, making them part of the new civic elite). Within this new civic elite, Roma visionaries and activists are being elevated, and the distinction between them is based on the criterion ‘strategy – tactics’. The first are those who draw the overall, far-reaching perspectives for the development of the community in the new social realities; the latter are the ones that determine the specific, immediate goals and tasks of the civic emancipation movement of the Roma. Of course, this distinction is abstract and speculative and, in practice, in real life, there is no strict boundary between these two categories, and the same people can combine both functions.
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An important aspect of fulfilling the main aim of this book is the critical re-reading of primary historical sources and their interpretation thus far, as the modern academic community very often uncritically uses second-hand reading, which leads to endless repetitions of inaccuracies and even errors. In today’s fast-paced world, the vast majority of writers seem to trust whatever has already been published, especially if such publications are freely available online. Comparatively rare are the cases where authors still find it necessary to refer to original historical sources, with an eye to read them critically, and rethink their meaning and implications. With this volume, for the first time, an entangled perspective on the Roma in the entire region is brought to the readers’ attention. This approach requires archival work in numerous countries, and hence in multiple languages, which includes also Romani language. We believe that this approach enables us to cover in detail the processes of Roma civic emancipation throughout the region. Ultimately, this approach also facilitates outlining general directions and trends in the course of Roma emancipation.
Adopting this approach meant we had to scale a number of challenges, both of a more general, methodological nature, and of a more specific, research-wise, character. Following this path entails the need to overcome some enduring academic prejudices concerning research on the Roma. For this reason, it is necessary to begin by clarifying the reasons behind the preparation and publication of this book. By presenting the main challenges of our approach, we will, in fact, outline the specific aims and tasks of this volume, as well as the questions to which some answers will later be proposed.
During the 1980s, a young and provocative German scholar, Kirsten Martins-Heuss (1983), shocked the academic public with her pronouncement that ‘Gypsy Studies’ (Zigeunerforschung) is “a science of the plagiarist” (Ibid., p. 8). Despite the fact that many controversial issues are present in Martins-Heuss’ book, this proposition is undeservedly forgotten today. In fact, she raised, perhaps for the first time, a number of important questions that continue to be relevant for the field of Romani Studies to this day. Most importantly, her ironic characterization of the field still remains valid.
It is not possible, within this introduction, to list all the cases in which an assertion is repeatedly considered and presented as historical fact, even when it is clearly an error in the reading and interpreting of historical sources. Even more common in academia, especially when it comes to the use of press quotations, numerous mystifications are accepted as irrefutable historical facts, often without any attempts at verification. Perhaps the most common falsification of this type is the famous poster for the sale of Gypsy slaves in Wallachia from 1852 (Ungureanu, 2019), which has repeatedly been cited as historical evidence or as an illustration in dozens of books and hundreds (if not thousands) of websites and media publications. Of course, the disclosure of this particular counterfeit does not preclude the existence of slavery of Gypsies in Wallachia and Moldova, but the fact of reprinting already proven fake items remains. This indicates that this practice can hardly be expected to cease soon.
While later in the book we will repeatedly refer to many different cases of this and similar kind, here we will limit ourselves to only one curious example in this regard (Duminica, 2019). In 1933, the Romanian Roma activist Gheorghe A. Lazărescu-Lăzurică wrote in an article published in the Adevărul newspaper that in Czechoslovakia a Gypsy man graduated from a university with a degree in philosophy, and was publishing a “Gypsy-language” periodical which had as many as 1,000 subscribers in Hungary, Poland, Czechoslovakia, and few also in Italy, Germany and Romania (Adevărul Literar şi Artistic, 1933a, p. 3). A few years later, the famous historian Gheorghe Potra wrote in his book that in Czechoslovakia, near Prague, a local Gypsy, Dr. Antoch Slatin, employed as a professor in the Department of Philosophy, had managed to publish a newspaper in the Gypsy language. The title of the alleged newspaper was Afrintea Bulache, declaring to have more than 5,000 subscribers (Potra, 1939, p. 124). In Czechoslovakia, however, no one ever heard about the existence of such a Roma activist, nor about such a newspaper. The motives of Gheorghe A. Lazărescu-Lăzurică (whose wife was a Roma woman from Czechoslovakia) for this hoax are understandable – in this way he wanted to raise the public image of Roma in Romanian society and to raise the self-esteem of Roma in general. It is worth noting, however, that Gheorghe Potra not only repeated uncritically the newspaper information but he did something more and developed the plot further. He added the name of the newspaper and the name of the Czech Rom in question, raised (compared to the initial newspaper’s publication) his educational level and public position, and significantly inflated the circulation of the newspaper. As for the name of this newspaper, Afrintea Bulache, it was translated by Potra into Romanian as ‘Propășirea noastră’ (Our Blossoming). In fact, it is probably a misspelled Romani language expression ‘avri te bulache’, which can be freely translated into English with the idiom ‘kiss my ass’. It is clear that Potra fell victim to the specific joke of a Roma activist (probably Gheorghe A. Lazărescu-Lăzurică himself, with whom he actively cooperated at the time), as he did not have a command of the Romani language.
It is quite puzzling that to this day the majority of researchers in the field of Romani Studies do not consider it necessary to master Romani language. On the other hand, it is hard to imagine a successful scholar of German studies who does not know the German language or a researcher in the field of Russian studies with no knowledge of the Russian language. However, most researchers in Romani Studies do not know the Romani language. Even among those who probe into Romani literature, those who master Romani language are still an exception to the rule. Especially for scholars working on Roma history, not knowing (and not using) the Roma language can lead to the exclusion of many important historical sources. In our case, this is of particular importance with regard to the early USSR, where in the 1920s and 1930s more than 250 (sic!) books were published in the Romani language, many of them original texts written by Roma authors. In addition, for almost five years, two Roma journals were published, as well as two newspapers, all in the Romani language. All of this vast range of source materials, revealing precisely the Roma view on the historical realities of this period, remains virtually unused by the researchers of Roma history in the USSR (Друц & Гесслер, 1990; Crowe, 1994; Деметр et al., 2000; Lemon, 2000; O’Keeffe, 2013).
Thus, as presented above, once put into scientific circulation, such historical ‘fake news’ are reproduced from book to book. Sometimes this happens even after the lack of historical evidence that could verify the quoted data has already been revealed. Such is the case with the supposed international Gypsy congresses in Bad Cannstatt in 1871 and Kisfalu in 1879 (for more details see Chapter 1). We have now reached a point when, especially nowadays, it is rare that anyone will doubt their veracity. Repeated are not only the ‘fake news’ but also one-sided and thus misleading information, inferences based on limited sources, misinterpretations, or simply conclusions rooted in misunderstandings. Much of this is implicated, from one side, by a comparatively low number of history scholars doing proper archival research in the past. On the other side, we need to take into account also the difficulties faced when accessing archives and libraries in numerous countries. Especially within the so-called socialist bloc, the possibility of doing archival research was severely restricted. Limited availability of archival source base caused usage of secondary literature instead. These circumstances made unavoidable the situation in which the same or similar mistakes passed from book to book. Nowadays we are coming to the point when the verification of past mistakes is not only needed but also feasible. After the end of the Cold War and especially now, in the time of appearance of numerous seminal works on different aspects of the history of the former Soviet camp and in the time of, what has been called the ‘archival revolution’ (for its ambiguous assessment, see Raleigh, 2002, pp. 16-24; Plamper, 2003, pp. 57-69), the gathering of new sources, verification of past mistakes and misinterpretation needs to become a must also in Romani Studies. During our work on gathering source base for this book we also encountered the need to change some of our own previous interpretations and conclusions.
Errors, mistakes, and ‘fake news’ are most easily included in monographs that have the ambition of summarising and synthesising what has thus far been achieved in the field of Romani Studies. At this point, we limit ourselves to presenting two examples that reveal the mechanisms of their emergence and multiplication. Both examples are taken from an ambitious book, recently published in two versions (Matras, 2014; 2015), one intended for the academic community and the second one for the general public. These books encompass Roma history, language, politics, and culture worldwide, in past and present, within numerous disciplinary fields. We do not, by any means, want to deny the usefulness of such books. However, it is arguably impossible for a single author to be a linguist, a historian, an ethnographer, an anthropologist, a political scientist, etc. at the same time and, therefore, it is understandable that one would find many mistakes in such a comprehensive work.
We can illustrate this by looking at a chapter discussing medieval sources on Roma in the Balkans. Within it, a short sentence is found: “in 1378 groups of Agoupti or Gupti are described as living in a number of Bulgarian villages” (Matras, 2014, p. 130; 2015, p. 160). In the background of this categorical statement is the so-called Rila Charter issued by the Chancellery of Bulgarian Tsar Ivan Shishman, listing the settlements and lands he donated to the Rila Monastery. However, this does not refer to “Agoupti or Gupti” people. Only among the listed localities in the Rila Mountains is the term ‘Agoupovi kleti’ (Агоуповы клѣ́ти) mentioned. On this basis, the famous Czech historian of Bulgaria and the Balkans Konstantin Jireček (1854-1918) made an assumption that it was about the misspelling of the term ‘Egyptians’ (γύφτος), which sometimes, along with the name ‘Athigani’ (αθίγγανοι), denoted the ancestors of today’s Roma in Byzantine sources (Иречек, 1899, 2, p. 307, Note 29). Later on, this interpretation was uncritically repeated in a number of other publications (see e.g. Kenrick & Puxon, 1972, p. 15; Fraser, 1992, p. 57; Gilsenbach, 1994, p. 39; Crowe, 1994, p. 2; Kenrick, 2007, p. 21). However, this interpretation cannot be accepted, given that the term ‘Агоуповы клѣ́ти’ refers not to a permanent settlement, but to the summer sheep encampment located high in the mountains, which were used for transhumance pastoralism and which belonged to a person with the name of ‘Agoup’ (the etymology of the name is unclear). In the Old Bulgarian language adjectives are formed with the suffixes ‘-ov, -ova, -ovo, -ovi’ when the original noun is a person’s name, and with the suffix ‘-ski, -ska, -sko’ when the original noun is the name of locality, country, people, etc., i.e. if it was Egypt or Egyptians, the grammatical form should be different. Moreover, in the Bulgarian medieval literature at that time the very name Egypt (and Egyptians, respectively) was used repeatedly, and it is unfeasible to claim that such a misspelling crept into a royal charter. As for the conclusion concerning their “living in a number of Bulgarian villages”, we cannot even venture a guess as to where this assertion comes from.
In the same book (in both its versions), one can find another claim that has little to do with the historical reality on the ground. According to it, “the Bulgarian authorities began to implement a programme of settling nomadic Gypsies in 1953; segregated Roma quarters were set up in dozens of Bulgarian cities and villages” (Matras, 2014, p. 190; 2015, p. 233). This statement is based on information obtained from the Radio Free Europe and from human rights organisations active during the Cold War (see Crowe, 1994, p. 22 and cited literature) which, given the general historical context of the era, can hardly be considered the most reliable sources. In the Bulgarian archives, however, there is no documentary evidence of the implementation of such a program; and it seems unlikely that the relevant documents had been destroyed, as there was no need to do this at the time. On the other hand, a huge amount of sources (decrees, reports, etc.) concerning the Gypsy sedentarisation of 1958 (sic!) is preserved in the archives, and this is confirmed by the oral testimonies of former nomads. The written sources, as well as these memoirs, confirm that a ban was issued by authorities to settle the former nomads within existing Gypsy neighbourhoods, while the ordinance was to offer them houses dispersed within numerous villages and to avoid the establishment of compact and segregated settlements (Marushiakova & Popov, 2007a, pp. 144-145). As one can see from the above quote, it is not only the date that is mistaken, but it wrongly suggests that Gypsy neighbourhoods appeared during the time of communism while the evidences of their existence already in Ottoman times (cf. Marushiakova & Popov, 2001) are neglected.
As said above, the same or similar mistakes can be found in numerous earlier publications as well. Their authors, however, wrote before the fall of the Iron Curtain and before the archives in the countries of the former socialist bloc became freely accessible. And, perhaps equally important, before the new forms of information technologies became available. Nowadays the work has become easier and a large part of the problems in accessing information no longer exist. Numerous archives now offer digital catalogues, some items are digitised and available on-line. For example, the original text of the Rila Charter has not only been published at least a dozen times but is even accessible on Wikipedia, and also the issue of sedentarisation of nomadic Gypsies is reflected in several articles and monographs. At the same time, with the availability of new research possibilities and information, the work became also more difficult: writing history now requires not only reading a few books and writing another one on their bases; a good historian should necessarily verify the sources and not trust uncritically the texts of authors who have worked in past, often under completely different conditions and on the basis of much less available information.
Multiple repetitions of errors that have been passed from book to book are not only due to ignorance of primary historical sources but to no less extent because of their malicious interpretation. We will limit ourselves just to one specific example in this regard. In dozens of academic publications, the Decree of Empress Elisabeth from 1759 is mentioned, according to which supposedly the Gypsies were completely denied access (sic!) to St Petersburg, the capital of the Russian Empire, and that the ban was in effect until 1917 (see cf. Crowe, 1994, p. 154). The text of the Decree, however, is very clear – this prohibition applies only to Gypsy nomads, and this does not mean that the Gypsies who are not nomads are forbidden to live in the city. Since the 19th century, many Gypsies (mainly engaged in music and dance, as well as horse-trading) have legally lived in St Petersburg. It was exactly in St Petersburg where the first Gypsy theatre and music troupe, headed by N. I. Shishkin, was created and, in 1888, the first Gypsy operetta Children of Forests and Fields was staged, which includes songs and lyrics in the Romani language (Бауров, 1996, pp. 22-23; Бессонов, 2002a, pp. 806-808).
To put an end to the existing practice of endless repetitions, which often go on for decades, of the once made mistakes and misinterpretations, the time has come to engage in a whole new, critical reading of historical sources and of the previous academic texts in order to eliminate mistakes and perverse or tendentious interpretations of data. The very chosen structure of this volume is subordinated to the performance of this task. Firstly, the historical sources are published. These are followed by their explanation in Notes, and in Comments, by their interpretation in the general historical context, on which basis the Conclusions are also made. We consider the commonly used opposite approach unsatisfactory: namely, of first pre-setting a particular discourse and even formulating the theses, for which the appropriate historical sources are to be selected (and, even if there are no such sources, the existing ones are interpreted according to the chosen theses). Such an approach already proved its shortcomings, examples about which will be discussed more than once in the comments on the specific cases and the conclusions.
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In order for this book to be properly perceived and understood, it is necessary to begin by making some clarifications on the used terminology, as well as on its spatial and chronological parameters. At the same time, it is also necessary to explain its format - the principles we have used for presenting the various texts (historical sources, notes, and comments) that are included in it.
The two key terms used in the sources and the author’s texts are ‘Roma’ and ‘Gypsies’. There is no need to pay attention here to the public debate surrounding the use of these terms, in which two discourses (political and academic) are wrongly mixed; this debate is closely correlated with the development of contemporary Roma activism and is under the decisive influence of current political structures at international (mainly European) and national levels (Marushiakova & Popov, 2018b, pp. 385-418). In this case, we take a pragmatic approach and consider it sufficient to briefly explain the principles underlying the use of the two key terms in this book.
The guiding principle that defines the use of the term ‘Gypsies’ is historical. Since the Middle Ages, Roma communities have lived in the region of Central, South-Eastern and Eastern Europe, and were denoted by the surrounding population with different names. Such denominations are ‘Αθιγγανοι’ (Byzantine Empire, Greece), ‘Kıbti’ and ‘Çingene’ (Ottoman Empire, Turkey), ‘Цигани’ (Serbia, Bulgaria, Yugoslavia), ‘Ţigani’ (Romania), ‘Zigeuner’ (Austro-Hungarian Empire, Austria), ‘Cigányok’ (Hungary), ‘Cikáni’ and ‘Cigáni’ (Czechoslovakia), ‘Cyganie’ (Poland), ‘Цыгане’ (Russian Empire, USSR, Russian Federation), ‘Čigonai’ (Lithuania), ‘Čigāni’ (Latvia), ‘Mustalased’ (Estonia), ‘Mustalaiset’ (Finland), etc. Over time, and especially after the First World War, when the old empires collapsed and new ethnic-nation-states emerged in the region, some of these names turned into official terms and became political denominations of the Roma communities in their respective countries. All these denominations are usually translated into English (today’s language of the global academia) with the ethnonym ‘Gypsies’.
From our point of view, however, this is not an adequate translation; the word ‘Gypsies’, in the English-speaking world, including in the scholarly jargon, is used to signify diverse nomadic communities regardless of their ethnic origins and identity (Hancock, 2010, pp. 95-96). However, we also use the term ‘Gypsies’ to refer to all these communities throughout the period of history in question (from the mid-19th century to the Second World War), for several reasons. Despite the inappropriateness of the term, it (and all its equivalents in local languages) was used at that time; modifying them in historical sources would mean de facto rewriting and falsifying history (including the published historical sources), from a contemporary perspective. The Roma activists themselves, at that time, except in the cases when writing in the Romani language, also used these terms, and in the struggles for the civic emancipation of their community they proceeded from precisely this official discourse set out in their respective countries. Without adequately reflecting this discourse, one could not understand the first attempts to change it through the insistence (especially in Romania) on replacing the designation ‘Gypsies’ with ‘Roma’, which began during this period. In addition, in some cases, the ‘Gypsies’ category also includes non-Roma communities, who either do not identify themselves as Roma or are not Roma by origin (Dom and Lom in the South Caucasus region, the so-called Lyuli or Jugi in Central Asia, etc.). In the translation of such local terms into English, we use the word Gypsies as umbrella designation, simply because a more adequate term does not yet exist.
The designation ‘Roma’ is, however, used in the notes and comments. They are written from the contemporary point of view, wherein the movement for Roma civic emancipation is considered globally, and as a movement that is still evolving today.
Fortunately, there is no major discrepancy between the political discourse, in which ‘Roma’ in many cases (mostly within the framework of European institutions) is used as the umbrella label for a particular political category (Marushiakova & Popov, 2018b, pp. 385-418), and the academic discourse, in which this designation is used as an ethnic category (Marushiakova & Popov, 2016a, pp. 7-34). This is because the historical area in which Roma have lived since the Middle Ages is precisely Central, South-Eastern and Eastern Europe, and from which, during the modern era (from the 19th century to the present-day), they have re-settled around the world. The few cases where there are discrepancies in the context of this discourse are noted and discussed in comments, but this does not change the principles of the use of the two key terms (‘Gypsies’ and ‘Roma’).
The spatial scope of the study presented in this book is fixed as the region of Central, South-Eastern and Eastern Europe, but this definition is not based on purely geographical but on historical and geopolitical criteria. Until the early 20th century, these were the lands of the three great Еmpires (the Austro-Hungarian, Ottoman, and Russian), where after the disintegration of the Empires numerous new nation-states emerged. This is actually the region where, at that time, the processes of Roma civic emancipation emerged and developed. From this perspective, it becomes clear why the book includes Turkey (although the majority of its territory, geographically speaking, is located in Asia) and Finland (which, until 1917, was part of the Russian Empire), while some other countries in the region are excluded (such as Albania, Lithuania, Estonia), where there is no written evidence (or, at least, evidence have not yet been found) for the process of Roma civic emancipation.
The chronological scope of the book is not determined by specific dates either, but according to respective historical eras. In the original proposal, the chronological limit of our work was intended to be Two World Wars. However, based on existing and newly discovered historical sources, and because of the purpose of the study itself, it appeared necessary to go beyond this range. In order to better explore and explain the processes of Roma civic emancipation, it was needed to start at the roots, and the first manifestations of Roma civic emancipation took us further back in time. The earlier time limit of the study can, though to some extent conditional, be set in the mid-19th century. This was the time (especially after the revolutions of 1848) when modern nationalism rapidly developed and this was also in this context that the processes of Roma civic emancipation began to take root. The end caesura of our focus is the Second World War, which fundamentally changed the worldwide social and political order and, respectively, also influenced the processes of Roma emancipation. The end of the Second World War marks the beginning of a new, quite different, historical era.
This upper limit is also not precisely chronologically fixed due to a number of circumstances. Different countries became involved in the war at different times, and in some of them, the processes of Roma civic emancipation continued to evolve for some time also under these new conditions. In addition, some of the materials presented (the memories of participants in the events, for example) are of a later date, even when they describe the events of the interwar period.
The vast majority of these materials are published for the first time, and many of them have never been used before for academic purposes. Only a small part of these materials have already been published, mainly in Romania (Nastasă & Varga, 2001), but here they are presented also in English translation and are analysed in a broader historical context.
In the composition of this volume, the leading approach is to give unconditional priority to the historical sources themselves, so each chapter begins with the text of the source in the original language followed by an English translation. For better orientation, the source texts are grouped according to the countries, thematically, and chronologically, which is reflected in the content through the titles of the individual chapters and subchapters. The presentation of the historical sources in this book is by no means an end in itself and thus does not exhaust its content, much less its aims. Therefore, all source-materials are accompanied by notes and comments. The notes provide brief explanations that help to better understand the content of these historical sources and unknown realities. Here we limited ourselves to the explanation of the most important and unknown terms, personalities, and realities, trying to avoid a situation when each item is explained, as this would turn the book in some kind of lexicon of the time and region. The comments offer a synthesised analysis of these sources.
The published materials are divided into chapters by individual countries in the region because it is precisely the national borders that set the framework for the processes of Roma civic emancipation. As will be seen from these materials themselves, rather as a desired potential opportunity, the concept of the Roma as a transnational community during the studied period appeared only sporadically. Within individual countries, historical sources are grouped according to separate topics, ordered chronologically. The notes follow each of the published historical sources, while the relevant comments are based on each source or on the group of sources devoted to one topic. In cases, where we consider it necessary, at the end of the relevant chapters, summarising or additional comments are made by the editors of the chrestomathy. There, the essence of the processes of Roma civic emancipation in the respective country is summarised, context analyses are made, and the editors’ explanation and/or interpretations are offered.
The individual chapters are of different lengths, which is directly dependent on the scale of activities aimed at Roma emancipation, as well as on the presence of Roma activists who have left a written legacy. Naturally, the size of the Chapters also depends on the array of discovered source materials in individual countries. As expected, and for obvious reasons, the longest chapters appeared to be Bulgaria, Romania, and especially the Soviet Union.
In the Conclusion section, the final discussion and an entangled picture of the movement for Roma emancipation in the region are offered.
It should be emphasised that, from the outset, it was our unconditional principle that historical sources should be published in their original language and then translated into English. In doing so, we proceeded from the principle that even the best translation does not convey all nuances of the original and that a number of researchers will want to have access to the original texts. At the same time, the authentic texts of Roma political and social visionaries are a part of the cultural and historical heritage that should be preserved and demonstrated through their original language.
Another principle that we adhered to (with few exceptions) was that the translations were made by the researchers for whom this source language is native, and then the English language editing was made, in order to ensure maximum adequacy. This adequacy means not only the purely linguistic accuracy of the translation but also the need for a very good knowledge of the historical context and the realities in which these sources were created.
In the original texts published in the local languages of the countries of the region, we are using their modern orthography (except for Ottoman Turkish, which is not used anymore, thus Ottoman orthography is preserved). When presenting the texts of historical sources, the style of the original language is preserved, even when this may appear more or less outdated, may sound archaic and, in some cases (as with the new language in the early USSR), even unusual. The most common neologisms of the Soviet ‘Newspeak’, as well as the widely used abbreviations in the early USSR (especially in the official documentation), are explained separately in the Dictionary.
Some of the terms used, which do not have an adequate English translation, are left in the original language and are in italics when used for the first time, and explained in the notes. The same goes for the terms of territorial-administrative units in the USSR. During the first years of the Soviet state, the old territorial-administrative units of the Russian Empire (e.g. guberniya, uezd, volost, etc.) were used. In the 1920s, a constant process of creating new Soviet terminology for such units began. This process was extremely complex and was not based on clear determined principles or uniform legal and administrative acts, but according to specific cases. In addition to all this, the statuses (sometimes also the boundaries) of the individual units often changed, and the hierarchy between the lower units varied. In the 1920s and 1930s in the USSR one could find the following territorial-administrative units: Republic (Union and Autonomous), Kray, Oblast (variant Autonomous Oblast), Okrug (variant National Okrug), Rayon (variant National Rayon), Selsoviet (variant National Selsoviet).
Italics also indicate words and phrases that are in the Romani language when inserted into a comprehensive text that is in another language. Italics are preserved also in cases whenever used in original texts.
The words and sentences in the Romani language are maintained as in the original. In the English translations of the texts, however, they are transcribed with diacritics, which is more or less the consensus way for transcription most often used in Romani Studies. In the English language texts also the self-appellation of the community is used, namely the term ‘Roma’, which is by now the one most commonly used within the public sphere. This term is not, however, used in its original grammatical forms but instead, it is adapted to English grammar. We have done so because we consider it acceptable to introduce foreign words into English, but we do not consider it appropriate to impose foreign grammar into one or another language. The only exceptions from this principle are the combination terms ‘Romani language’, ‘Romani literature’, and ‘Romani Studies’ because they have already made a lasting entry in the academic language.
Corrections of printing mistakes and added punctuation marks are not specifically noted. In the English translation, the names are given in the usual order – name, father’s name (if any), surname, although in the original spelling in some languages (Russian, Hungarian, for example) there is an inversion of this order (i.e. surname, first name, in Russian also father’s name).
Quotations in the text are marked in two ways – by clearly separated paragraphs or double quotation marks (“/”) when they are part of a sentence. Single quotation marks (‘/’) stand for the individual terms used in the different texts.
Where abbreviations and acronyms are used in published texts, additions are made, which are enclosed in square brackets [], and which are eliminated in the English translation. A similar approach is used when further clarification is needed to better understand the meaning of individual words or phrases. The sign […] also indicates redundancies made in texts that are not relevant to the main content of those historical sources: for example, repetitions (in the same document or other texts published here), deviations from the main content, unnecessary details, certain general legal and administrative rules or procedures in the Statutes of organisations, etc.
In many places in the source texts, and especially those of the USSR, for the names of the institutions their abbreviations and neologisms, originated on this basis, have been used. They convey the spirit of the era as they were part of the new language policy in the early USSR, so we have kept them in the texts and used them also in the notes and comments. Because often these abbreviations and neologisms are incomprehensible even in the modern Russian language, a special ‘Dictionary of Abbreviations and Neologisms’ has been included.
In order to maintain a form of language equality, all archival and media sources, and bibliographic data, including references to the text, are displayed in the language and alphabet of the original. Books (as well as newspapers and journals) in Romani language are placed in a separate Appendix. To avoid duplication, bibliographic sources in the Romani language are included only there. The respective references in the text are given according to this Appendix.
Separate references are made to the archival and media (newspapers and popular journals) sources, according to their respective rules. In some cases, however, especially in private archives, the bibliographical data are not organised in the standard way and often the individual documents lack a designation, thus only the folder’s name or archival subdivision is available. In other cases all bibliographical data are available but the page numbers of individual documents are missing or are invisible for the researcher when documents are offered for review only in digitalised form.
The Scripture quotations in English translation for this edition are taken from English Standard Version (https://biblehub.com/).
We hope that the chosen way of presenting the texts and bibliographic data will not make it difficult for the readers of this book but, on the contrary, will make it more useful for those who will rely on it in their future research.
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We hope that bringing this chrestomathy to the reader’s attention will not be an endpoint, but a new beginning. We also hope that it will become a kind of prolegomena, and the basis for the further development of studies in Roma history, not only grounded in the sources presented but considering them from a new perspective and using a whole new unbiased and balanced approach to their history. This new approach to the history of the Roma must take into account the different dimensions of their identity in the modern era and the general historical context, in order that Roma history is presented as an integral and inseparable part of the common European history, over the centuries.
This book raises a number of issues that may be a subject of debate. Therefore, the book does not, by any means, claim to offer the ultimate truth; if nothing else, because no one has yet been able to find the answer to the eternal question, “What is truth?” (John 18: 38). However, this does not mean that truth should not be constantly sought and gradually revealed, and that is precisely the meaning of academic knowledge.
Elena Marushiakova and Vesselin Popov