The story of the region, told by an intrepid journalist Many dire predictions followed the collapse of the Soviet Union, but nowhere have they materialized as dramatically as in the insurrection, civil wars, ethnic conflicts, economic disintegration, and up to two million refugees. Moreover, in the 1990s Russia twice went to war in the Caucasus, and suffered a humiliating defeat at the hands of a nation so tiny that it could fit into a single district of Moscow. What is it about the Caucasus that makes the region so restless, so unpredictable, so imbued with heroism but also with fanaticism and pain? In Highlanders, Yo'av Karny offers a better understanding of a region described as a "museum of civilizations," where breathtaking landscapes join with an astounding human diversity. Karny has spent many months among members of some of the smallest ethnic groups on earth, all of them living in the grim shadow of an unhappy empire. But his book is a journey not only to a geographic region but also to darker sides of the human soul, where courage vies with senseless vindictiveness; where honor and duty require people to share the present with long-dead ancestors, some real, some imaginary; and where an ancient way of life is drawing to an end under the combined weight of modernity and intolerance.
The book concentrates on the Chechens, Ingush, Dagestanis, Abkhaz, and other peoples racked by centuries of occupation, discord and pride, and fierce feuds, and also contains a perceptive commentary on the bigger nations, all of whom demonstrate an astounding perseverance, a dogged sense of pride, irrational pursuits of liberty. As in the Balkans, imagined or real slights centuries past continue to polarise the people in the Caucasus today. As economic units, the smaller tribes are unviable, but that doesn't prevent their constant struggle for independence (or, more usually, domination of their neighbours); tragically, during any short period of autonomy, they squander it in factional strife and corruption. Long memories of blood feuds persist, but nobody remembers those wasted opportunities. This remains the tragedy of the Caucasus today. Highlanders provides an excellent coverage.
I had a chance to hear the author speak and shortly after was able to pick up a copy of the book at the library. Unfortunately I had to return it before I could finish it, but plan to buy a copy soon. Excellent writing and fascinating tales of the peoples of the Caucasus. I would highly recommend it.
One of the best books around detailing the after effects of the Soviet Union's collapse. Karny breaks apart the obscurity and diversity of the Caucasus, and puts in into bite size pieces. Highlanders is an interesting read from page one, combining ethnology, politics and history. A smart read!
I've never come across a more engaging, detailed, and sympathetic work of writing with regards to the Caucasus as a whole. Parts of the book read like a high-quality ethnography. The stories covering non-remembrance among the Balkars, the Chechen diaspora in Jordan, and the displaced Georgian woman from Abkhazia in the epilogue were among the most moving and powerful, for me. But there are many more. I'm not giving the book five stars however, for a number of (somewhat minor) reasons.
First, I was annoyed at the fact that it's not really properly cited. You can't find where certain claims and quotations come from. Second, although the book explicitly focuses on historical memory, which is fine, I still sometimes felt there was a bit of a tendency to over-emphasise the role of history, memory politics, identity, and so forth; it felt a bit like structural factors and context were a little bit too much pushed to the background. This sometimes combines uneasily with the author's strong anti-communist beliefs (at times justified, but at times also over-generalised). Finally, if the book had been about the Balkans, some sections of the book might qualify as romanticising “Balkanism” (see Maria Todorova's work). In other words, there are some Orientalising tendencies here and there. We should be careful portraying the Caucasus as a “second Balkans”, a mysterious land of diversity and violence. The book challenges some of such perceptions, but implicitly adopts it partly, too, which is (maybe?) problematic.
These caveats aside, seriously consider reading this book if you want to learn about the diversity of the Caucasus region, and if you want to challenge your preexisting views with an abundance of new stories. If any adjective were to be used to describe Karny's book, it would be: rich (or, perhaps: colourful).
If there's a better book about the ethnonationalistic and sectarian can of worms that is the Caucasus, I don't know of one. The author is an Israeli-American journalist and thus pays more attention to Subbotniks and other tiny formerly-Jewish or remnant-Jewish communities in the region, which is not a criticism, because much of that was history I had absolutely no idea about and sheds an interesting light on the ferment of religion that accompanied Peter the Great's reforms. Mostly, here, there is a deep exploration of Chechen culture and of the ethnopolitics of Dagestan. Less on Circassia and Georgia, but quite a bit on Nagorno-Karabakh, with a more insightful discussion of that conflict than almost any I've read. Most of his "data" consists of bumming around the Caucasus and talking to anybody, which in the 1990s and early 2000s ended up meaning plenty of key players in ethnopolitics who were willing to talk to him, everyone from rebel leaders to Cossack commanders to religious leaders. This book is red meat to anyone interested in the Caucasus. I've been writing quite a bit about the Caucasus lately and, among other things, this is the best scorecard I've seen. I couldn't imagine proceeding without it.
The recent Boston Marathon bombings brought Chechnya, in the heart of the Caucasus Mountains and site of a failed revolt against Russian rule, back to the front page.
Karny's fascinating book goes beyond Chechnya into hundreds of years of history, thousands of years of linguistics, and millions of years of geography of the highest mountains of Europe.
I think if there's a type of book that I wish I could write, this would be it. An historical, political journey through the Caucasus, attempting to understand the people who make up that complex region, this book discusses the cultural memories that continue to define how those people see themselves today.
I bought this in advance of a holiday to Georgia and Armenia, and only realised afterwards that it primarily focuses on the northern Caucasus, specifically Chechnya, Daghestan, and the provinces where Circassians are prominent. This didn't impact my enjoyment in reading (although perhaps I would have been more prepared for my holiday if I had chosen better) and I think if you are remotely interested in ideas of nationalism and historical memory this will interest you.
The book was written over 20 years ago, and still feels incredibly relevant today. Chechnya might not be in the news nearly as much, but the uncertainty and tension in that part of Russia still remain, and if you want to understand it you really couldn't do worse than this book.
This is an excellent, detailed, balanced account of the nations of the Caucasus in the years immediately after the fall of the Soviet Union. Karny pays attention to each nation's history, traditions, and the complicated relationships they have with each other and their neighbors. I cannot think of any other foreign journalist coming to this level of genuine understanding of and empathy for the region.