Closing gaps or digging holes? Linking imperial frontiers in the 18th and 19th centuries.
Yuriy Malikov, Tsars, Cossacks, and Nomads: The Formation of a Borderland Culture in Northern Kazakhstan in the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries. 321 pp. Berlin: Klaus Schwarz, 2011. ISBN-13 978-3879973958. 39.80 [euro].
Valerii Evgen'evich Vozgrin, Istoriia krymskikh tatar: Ocherki etnicheskoi istorii korennogo naseleniia Kryma (History of the Crimean Tatars: Essays in the Ethnic History of Crimea's Indigenous Population), 2 (4 vols. altogether). 938 pp. Simferopol': Krymuchpedgiz, 2013. ISBN-13 978-9663545691.
The books brought together in this review offer diverse accounts of the interactions of the Russian Empire with peoples of the peripheries who eventually became Russian subjects during the 18th and 19th centuries. Each represents an important and ambitious contribution to debates in various regional subfields in the history of imperial borderlands. In recent decades, historians have made great advances in broadening the purview from an excessive focus on the centers of power in St. Petersburg and Moscow to study events and processes in the provinces and peripheries of the growing empire. The books considered here study parts of what Michael Khodarkovsky calls the "perennial frontier" (7)--that is, the steppes north of the Black Sea, the North Caucasus, and what is now Kazakhstan, much of which was long an area contested by neighboring empires.
Since the appearance of these books, many of the regions and issues they treat have become focal points of international conflict, which only underscores their significance. Until the 19th century, however, these areas were never of sufficient strategic value to justify the huge budgetary and human losses that the Russians accepted before finally turning them into integral parts of the empire by the 1860s. The authors also cover the history of semiperipheral and often independent entities such as the Crimean Khanate or Derbent, which comprised large swaths of the steppe and mountain frontier. The authors adopt varied, to some extent opposite approaches, mostly inspired by cultural history and anthropology. Yuriy Malikov openly challenges Michael Khodarkovsky's earlier work on the imperial frontier, arguing against his contention that "the Russian and nomadic civilizations constituted 'two different worlds,' which 'continued to stand apart long after their initial encounter' "(294). (1) Khodarkovsky, meanwhile, takes up this challenge and restates his view that the "two worlds" of Russia and the steppe--"the world of the highly centralized empire-state and indigenous, kinship-based societies with rudimentary political organizations"--were "structurally incompatible." He allows for "continuous learning processes by both sides" while underscoring that "each side projected upon [the] other its own values and expectations" (13).
Malikov and Khodarkovsky thus arrive at diametrically opposite conclusions. To Malikov, "the ability to become a man in between cultures was a prerequisite for an individual's success in the Russian borderlands" (294). By contrast, Khodarkovsky argues that his protagonist, the Cossack officer Semen Atarshchikov, a man proficient in the idioms and cultures of both sides of the North Caucasus border, never got a chance to fully establish himself. Rather, he maintained his position as a translator and cultural mediator fostering loyalties to the tsar and the local people just beyond the fortified line to the end, and his back-and-forth between them proved to be his undoing. This is mainly why Khodarkovsky has chosen Atarshchikov's biographical materials as the basis of his book: he has aimed to write a previously unavailable history of three centuries of the North Caucasus under Russian rule. The book comprises the whole ethnic mosaic of this divisive region, which would be challenging to the most attentive student without the biographical framing narrative provided by Atarshchikov's roaming life. Khodarkovsky masters the task successfully, describing the efforts to bridge the gap between local cultures and the imperial center as well as the significant obstacles involved, both personal and structural.
In their approaches to the frontier Malikov and Khodarkovsky primarily answer to international discourses. Their achievements and shortcomings fall squarely within the field of frontier history and will, for this reason, be discussed mostly together. V. E. Vozgrin, by contrast, covers a different part of the frontier: the Pontic steppe and the Crimean peninsula. He follows interdisciplinary approaches--particularly anthropological, religious, and political history--using a welter of archival materials to study the Crimean Tatars and their relations with the Russian Empire, creating the most comprehensive study to date of the region. Vozgrin's book is thus a major event for the field, given the lack of a recent extensive overview of the history of the Crimean Tatars in any language, and most conspicuously in Russian. (2)
Malikov and Khodarkovsky focus on the frontier and on the people who crossed and inhabited it. Khodarkovsky uses the scant sources available on the life and death of one of these individuals, the Cossack soldier and interpreter Semen Atarshchikov, to demonstrate just how great and deadly was the gulf between imperial society and the variegated peoples of the North Caucasus. This approach allows him to write history from the view of previously ignored and largely undocumented historical actors. Doing so means filling in some of the lacunae of the archival records, something Khodarkovsky achieves in a way that requires little, if any scholarly invention, using the phases of Atarshchikov's restless life as a frame for telling the history of the region.
The son of a Russian Cossack father and Nogai mother, Atarshchikov spent his early childhood in a Cossack stanitsa on the Terek River before moving for the rest of his upbringing to an isolated Kumyk aul in the Dagestan mountains. In each locale, Khodarkovsky follows his subject closely, giving the reader a colorful and instructive introduction into Caucasian topography, history, and ethnography. Later in life, Atarshchikov became a skilled translator for the army who served in various posts, from St. Petersburg to the Caucasus, all of which gives the author a chance to cover important developments in the extended and bloody Caucasian-Russian encounter as well as the intricate world of frontier customs, to which Khodarkovsky is an expert guide thanks to long years of previous research. He admirably achieves his goal of introducing us to the Russian-native standoff in the Caucasus, and indeed, the book could well be used as a kind of primer to the rich history of the Russian conquest of the North Caucasus.
Khodarkovsky's account is both insightful and characterized by divisions akin to those he diagnoses in his protagonist, in the whole cohort of intermediaries with local backgrounds and an imperial upbringing, and in overall imperial policies. The Caucasus War, in this view, was a struggle between versions of modernity: the Russian Empire's determination to transform tribal entities into ethnic groups, and the active efforts of Shamil's imamate to replace tribal identities with a state, albeit an Islamic one. Consequently, the anti-Russian campaign looks worryingly similar to the Soviet interpretation of rebellions directed against the traditional elites; especially in areas of the North Caucasus that Khodarkovsky defines as not having evolved such elites. The belief nurtured by imperial officials that one day the non-Russian peoples would become Russian--we need to ask what defines "Russian" here--is seen as a myth irreconcilable with reality (168-69). For the Russians, the military activities of North Caucasian peoples were "rebellions," even if 10,000 mounted warriors took part, and their settlements were villages even if they were larger than nearby Russian settler towns, to cite but a few examples for imperial double standards that Khodarkovsky aptly dissects. Such double standards were frequently applied in the early modern period in Europe and the colonies. Therefore the question remains whether they can explain the reasonable query at the outset of the conclusion: why, after centuries of conquest and rule, can Russia boast of little success in integrating the North Caucasus into the fabric of the empire? (167). Part of the story is that these areas were integrated late. Imperial authorities acted manipulatively, seeking to adapt policies to a great variety of disparate local conditions as well as their internal contradictions. One territory was seldom governed in the same way as another. The more cogently Khodarkovsky expresses his observations and analyses, the more they resemble Churchill's 1939 quip about Russia as a "riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma." Nevertheless, this approach explains exactly why we can learn so much from this book: in the end, Khodarkovsky writes, the new colonial elites of Russia who did not know where to place themselves between local and empire, change and tradition, came to resemble the Russian elite that had already wrestled with the same conundrum for centuries.
While Khodarkovsky fulfills the task he has undertaken, his discussion allows for diverse readings of the evidence, such as those of revisionist historians who have set out to show that the frontier was exactly the place in which people like Atarshchikov lived in a zone of negotiation and mutual influence.
His mother was a Nogai from the steppe, and his father a Chechen who as a military translator had extensive experience with the natives of the Caucasus. She was sold as a slave at age six, and he was surrendered to the Russian state as a political pawn; both developed identities as Cossacks (24-45).
The revisionist scholars--from which Malikov, too, derives a great part of his study design--neither deny that fighting occurred nor that it intensified over time, but they emphasize that it was "limited, regulated, and more a function of life in the North Caucasus than of conquest and resistance." (3) In his study of Russian religious dissenter settlers in the South Caucasus, Nicholas Breyfogle argues that too many historians stress "the bilateral confrontation between Russian state agents and non-Russian peoples." Violence coexisted with economic interaction and mutual support. Since there was roughly an equilibrium of power, mutual accommodation arose. (4)
Malikov uses a variety of approaches to show that relations between Cossacks and Kazakhs were far from the strained image he discerns in the works of Kazakh nationalists, Russian historians, and even their colleagues outside the post-Soviet orbit. The Cossacks of the Irtysh line, in what is now Kazakhstan, were recruited among the native Kazakhs as often as among Russian newcomers. Malikov argues that the dominance of tribal over national identity and religious syncretism did not motivate the nomads to sacrifice their lives in the struggle against "foreign invaders" and "infidels." Since all religions are syncretic--whether they accept that fact or not--this is perhaps not his most valid point. Chapter 2 compares ways of life, diets, material culture, and traditions of the Altai and Siberian Cossacks--the former came closer to Russian habits, whereas the latter remained more nativized. On the Kazakh side, this is matched by a large degree of Russification among those who lived closely with the Cossacks, a phenomenon that has been largely ignored. The chapter about the Kenesary Kasymov rebellion of 1837-47 argues that traditional clan leaders' resistance to a new type of centralized state proves that boundaries separating native and Cossack communities were not clearly demarcated. He has a point here, although confusingly he does not analyze the effects of the presence of many slave warriors in Kenesary's army, which points to underlying structures that both studies largely ignore.
If indeed slaves were such a novelty in the Kazakh steppe, their centralizing effects were by no means new to the Central Asian region as a whole. (5)
The Russian Empire aimed to increase trade across the steppe and to protect Russian settlements in Siberia, objectives it could not entirely achieve. Resources sufficed neither to stop nomads from attacking the great caravans nor to force them to compensate for the losses incurred. Among the reasons for this impotence was that Cossacks as settlers and traders in their own right had interests that did not always coincide with their duties as servitors. Kazakh eagerness for Russian goods, Cossack dependency on supplies from the steppe, and the state's interest in furthering trade boosted small-scale economic exchange among Cossacks and Kazakhs. In chapter 5, Malikov studies the role of trade in establishing the frontier society along with good neighborly relations across ethnic and religious divides. Material cultures intermingled and mutual dependency increased, because the state could not fully provide for the Cossacks. The competitive environment meant that trade could prosper only based on friendly relations between Cossacks and Kazakhs. It is important to note that these ties were limited to the 10-kilometer corridor along the Irtysh reserved by the tsar for the Cossacks and its immediate hinterlands. This environment made the Cossacks the only Russian population exposed to Kazakhs in this way even as it isolated them from other Russians. Theirs was a specific situation, and Malikov's differential comparisons to Cossack groups that lived closer to Russian settlement are therefore apposite.
The last chapter, on conflict between Cossacks and natives and adjudication, takes the form of small case studies illustrating general points. The cases underscore the hypothesis that close relations akin to the "middle ground" predominated in 18th- and 19th-century Cossack-Kazakh relations. (6) Nevertheless, Malikov misses the opportunity to use a consolidated local archival database for a certain period to prove conclusively that such close contacts, rather than a gulf between agents of the center and the natives, predominated in these interactions. He does, however, use his sources to great effect in demonstrating, among other pertinent points, that the state's influence was severely circumscribed and Cossacks often had to rely on Kazakh judges using local adat (customary law). Kazakh adat merged influences from Mongolic, Islamic, and Russian law and was finally codified in the 1820s, a point Malikov might have made (317). (7)
Malikov's rendition of the Islamization of the Kazakhs is a history told in terms of shortcomings. He may be correct when he says that religious practices differed from region to region (97). His broader argument about the "weakness of Islam" has been challenged by scholars such as Devin DeWeese, to whom he devotes but a fleeting sentence. (8) From a point of view informed by general early modern religious practices and renegades' frequent blurring of the boundaries between faiths, it is hardly surprising that the Kazakhs did the same. The level of syncretism might have been higher than in many territories and occurred a century later than in remote parts of Europe.
One of the beauties of Malikov's approach is that--already in 2007--he seems to have inquired into the historical background for recent challenges to the reestablishment of imperial relations between northern Kazakhstan and Moscow. In early 2015, Moscow questioned the historical statehood of Kazakhstan and appeared to invite local Russians to join the Russian Federation; reactions were mixed. Malikov could hardly predict this development, but his study provides much material on the relations between Cossacks and Kazakhs, as well as tools that make it possible to think about the fabric of local society beyond divisive ethnic tags. Nevertheless, studies of the "middle ground" also provide material that can be abused to liquefy existing boundaries, making them potential targets or tools for empire builders, especially where the historical Kazakhs are seemingly or actually denied capacity to build a state. Such extrahistorical considerations make the debates about historical approaches a disturbingly burning concern. When Malikov and the revisionists claim that historiography needs to act responsibly, they have a point. However, the only available measure of such responsibility is that the sources are taken seriously, which means we need more such studies and more thorough investigation of the archives.
Historiographical responsibility may also depend on place and background: breaking the ground for new approaches may require bravery and turn out to be lopsided to some degree. Nevertheless, such dexterity may prove to be the only way to put the stalled cart of historical self-awareness on track. Vozgrin's motivation and the outcome--that he himself is caught between two stools--is what sets him most clearly apart from the other two authors discussed in this review and roots him in local as much as in international discourses and encounters. He is a "Krimchan"--that is, according to some interpretations someone of a Russian and Orthodox background who grew up in Crimea. Originally a scholar of Scandinavia, he then devoted decades to giving back to the Crimean Tatars a bit of what the Russian Empire had taken from them--at least their history. There is no entirely objective measure for an undertaking such as this. The degree to which he is also an unsung hero of upright belief in his professional principles in a sea of mostly anguished, tacit, and open support for revanchist politics may be gauged from the manifestations of disdain he has triggered among some Crimean Russians. As one of the demonstrators against his book series explained, "there is no need to read it to oppose it." (9) The Russian Communities of the Crimea (Russkie obshchiny Kryma) and its chair and member of the Supreme Soviet of the Autonomous Republic of Crimea, Sergei Shuvainikov, went to the length of accusing the author in a public statement of Russophobia, falsifying sources, and "fomenting interethnic hatred." The Mejlis, the representative body of the Crimean Tatars, had to deny Shuvainikov's assertion that it had commissioned the book. (10) More surprisingly, members of the Mejlis even accused him of falsifying statements against one of the founders of the organization, the once partisan Osman Bekir Osmanovich. (11) All this happened before the 2014 annexation of the Autonomous Republic of Crimea by the Russian Federation. Vozgrin has since lost his status as member of the Russian Academy of Sciences, an outcome that demonstrates the perils of speaking bluntly about the not so distant past of the Russian Empire and the Soviet Union. However, the topicality and local media coverage of his book is not under discussion here, but the period from the mid-18th to the mid-19th centuries that Vozgrin covers in his second volume. (12)
Vozgrin paints on a broad canvas, and his colors admittedly are extreme: there is much light in Crimean Tatar culture on the threshold of its downfall, which he unfolds on 314 pages in the first part of the second volume. However, he refers to an abundance of sources, both published and previously unknown, to substantiate his points and uses approaches from anthropological and environmental studies. Under the heading "material culture" he discusses the philosophy of town and village, the layout of towns and their plan. The chapter on literature, high culture, literacy, and Tatar enlightenment includes fields such as oral tradition; history, philosophy, and natural sciences as academic disciplines; medicine and prevention. The next chapter is dedicated to anthropology, covering questions of physical appearance, temperament, intellectual particularities, religiosity, ethos, honesty, tidiness, sociability, solidarity, tolerance, self-esteem, frugality, work ethics, family atmosphere, diversions, the position of women in the family and in general, and sexual culture in equal detail. The evidence for such overwhelmingly positive traits is mainly drawn from travelers' descriptions, without insights from lengthy and methodical field observation. Vozgrin convincingly backs up his conclusions with the insightful studies of the noted anthropologist V. Kh. Kondaraki, who spent much of his working life in Crimea. Vozgrin does not shy away from discussing at length slaves as merchandise, an important part of the Crimean economy. In agriculture, however, they were less often employed due to the small size of Crimean households. The latter argument is widely accepted in slavery studies of the Ottoman Empire's postclassical period, but it is still debated and has not been substantiated for Crimea. Vozgrin's evaluations of Crimean Tatar life appear a bit rose-tinted, but they are well documented, and his book will be indispensable for any student of Crimean history. From an ethnic Russian born in Crimea this amounts to a welcome novelty, an acknowledgment of Tatar history and culture and a stretched-out hand toward the Tatars that may contribute to some future, more peaceful arrangement among the inhabitants of the peninsula.
These anthropological observations are followed by the main part of the volume, dedicated to political history, which was repeatedly punctuated by deportations, emigration, and oppression. Much of what Vozgrin brings into the light of day has been brushed over in broad strokes in earlier literature or has not been assembled in any accessible manner before. Some of his points need further discussion.
Vozgrin looks at Russian-Tatar relations mainly through an ethnic lens. His exacting study nonetheless reveals much about the workings of empire--more specifically, of distance and the means to overcome it--or rather their unreliability. The deportation of 1807, omitted in the main English-language study by Alan Fisher, was peculiar in its aims and initiators. It was started by discontented but relatively highly placed Tatar noble collaborators who decided it was time to make up for their efforts in the service of the tsar. In their petition to the distant governor in Odessa they explained that the danger of Ottoman infiltration was best prevented by resettling the Tatar population from the narrow southern strip of the seaboard. They aimed at taking over the most valuable lands of the peninsula in the absence of the able and popular local governor, the due de Richelieu. When Richelieu returned, his measures to reinstate the Tatar population were hampered by the nobles who had occupied peasant plots. They sent petitions to St. Petersburg, where nobody knew the intricacies of the situation. Decision makers fell for stories of Turkish subversion and their purported indulgence by the local Tatar population. It took a year to overturn these decisions by the center. By that time, most of the gardeners and winegrowers, let alone the fishermen who had been dumped in the austere interior of the peninsula's mountains and steppes, had died, because they could not adapt to their new situation (477-79). Vozgrin's attention to detail in such cases tends to disprove the claim of a deep interethnic abyss in favor of systemic faults and interethnic patronage networks disadvantaging Tatars lower on the social scale.
More than the Tatar elite's greed and Russian bureaucratic negligence made life difficult for the Tatar population, driving many into emigration. The second Russian invasion of Crimea and the Treaty of Kucuk Kaynarca with the Ottoman Empire in 1774 at first ushered in an interesting interlude of formal Crimean independence, albeit under Russian tutelage, and attempts, however misguided they may have been, to reform and modernize the country. Sahin Giray, a favorite of Catherine II who had been educated in Venice, introduced "the worst of European absolutism but failed to benefit from the best of European enlightenment" (357). The many competing pressures that Sahin had to moderate if he was to succeed--he never really did--are perhaps best illustrated by the fact that contemporary reformers in the far bigger and better-equipped Ottoman Empire did not succeed either. The fortunes of Sahin's reign, punctuated by several rebellions against excess taxation--from a traditional, Islamic point of view at least--and centralization of power along European lines, should interest any student of transcultural modernization. Despite Vozgrin's negative appraisal, the many details he provides, coupled with some of his insights, go a long way to explain the volatility and destructive results of Sahin's rule: it was haunted by contradictions between absolutist, military revolution-style Europeanizing reforms, foreign policy, and military pressures, on the one hand, and the well-conceived, medieval and early modern mixed monarchy that recent research has shown to be typical of Eurasia, on the other. The mixed monarchy combined sovereign rule with elements of institutionalized participation by social groups, drawing its norms in this case from Islamic law and local custom. (13)
Vozgrin describes a plethora of transgressions by Russian settlers, administrators, and, not least, the huge masses of soldiers. In the aftermath of civil war, occupation, and annexation they were often forced to sift the derelict Crimean built landscape for firewood, while some administrators gave orders that made the destruction permanent (379-81). Monuments of the Crimean Khanate and antiquity disappeared (400-13). Tatars were no longer allowed in cities except for the few in the inner peninsula. According to foreign observers, "the new ruler Prince Potemkin was indifferent to what laws were broken in carrying out his orders, [or] who was killed" (413). This epic of destruction, partly inadvertent and partly malevolent, counterbalances to some degree the received narrative of benign, enlightened Catherinian rule in the new province. (14) Vozgrin's findings do not invalidate the input of administrators who tried to make the conditions of occupation livable for Tatars. However, the main impression gleaned from the observations and facts he amasses is that they add to the gulf between empire and native subjects, not to the middle ground in which they encountered each other on the same political and cultural level. Arguably there was an inverse cultural gulf between Russian peasant soldiers and civilized inhabitants of the peninsula. Perhaps this gulf is a function of the macro level that Vozgrin--and, notably, Khodarkovsky--mainly investigates, whereas Malikov, among others, argues that the middle ground was operational in close social encounters.
That is even true for those Tatars who adapted most thoroughly, the Tatar mirzas who were accepted as Russian nobles. None of them rose above the entrance level of dvorianstvo, at least for the time being. In administration, they were limited to the local level. In landholding, contradictory influences at times allowed them to retain their property. Suspicion of Tatars was heightened during the Crimean War (1853-56), when rumors reached St. Petersburg that Tatars had betrayed Russia to the invaders. Vozgrin painstakingly disproves such interpretations, but they took hold of the emperors imagination. After the war, he no longer tried to stop emigration, which led to a great population loss from which the Tatar community took decades to recover.
Both Khodarkovsky's and Vozgrin's books portray individuals, some very highly placed, or whole social groups, such as the Tatar soldiers in the Russian army who bridged the chasm between colonizers and colonized, while Malikov argues along the lines of Richard White's "middle ground." The archival sources on Kazakh and Cossack line regiments provide material for Malikov's hypothesis of a frontier society of the type White describes as the middle ground. Some of Malikov's statements have to be taken with a pinch of salt, as when he asserts that contrary to the plans in St. Petersburg "the representatives of the 'higher' Russian culture became swallowed up by the Kazakh culture" (295). Nevertheless, Malikov is to be commended for significantly advancing our knowledge about these outlying districts, and further study of them will require scholars to return to his book. He provides many hints that collaboration occurred among the lower ranks as well as those higher up--many of the latter were co-opted into the empire's noble ranks, as Andreas Kappeler has already noted. Despite profound conflicts, assimilation and collaboration on both superficial and more profound levels may have been more extensive in the 18th and early 19th century--at least in certain, less volatile areas--than has often been assumed.
(1) Michael Khodarkovsky, "'Ignoble Savages and Unlawful Subjects': Constructing NonChristian Identities in Early Modern Russia," in Russia's Orient: Imperial Borderlands and Peoples, 1700-1917, ed. Daniel R. Brower and Edward J. Lazzerini (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2001), 2-26.
(2) Not so recent is V. D. Smirnov, Krymskoe khanstvo pod verkhovenstvom Otomanskoi Porty v XVIII stoletii (Odessa: A. Shul'tse, 1889). See also the conference contributions in Denise Klein, ed. "The Crimean Khanate between East and West (15th-18th century)," Forschungen zur osteuropdischen Geschicbte 78 (2012).
(3) T. M. Barrett, At the Edge of Empire: The Terek Cossacks and the North Caucasus Frontier, 1700-1860 (Boulder, CO: Westvicw, 1999), 165-66.
(4) Nicholas B. Breyfogle, Heretics and Colonizers: Forging Russia's Empire in the South Caucasus (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2005).
(5) Christoph Witzenrath, "Slavery in Medieval and Early Modern Eurasia: An Overview of the Russian and Ottoman Empires and Central Asia," in Eurasian Slavery, Ransom, and Abolition in World History, 1200-1860, ed. Witzenrath (New York: Routledge, 2015), 1-77.
(6) For this concept, see Richard White, The Middle Ground: Indians, Empires, and Republics in the Great Lakes Region, 1650-1815 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991).
(7) Martha Brill Olcott, Sufism in Central Asia: A Force for Moderation or a Cause of Politicalization? (Washington, DC: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, 1987), 19.
(8) Devin DeWeese, Islamization and Native Religion in the Golden Horde: Baba Tukles and Conversion to Islam in Historical and Epic Tradition (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1994).
(9) "Miting protiv knigi 'Istoriia krymskikh tatar'" (https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v= 81Jj8KxAfJc).
(10) "Russkie obshchiny Kryma nedovol'ny' trudom Vozgrina" (http://qha.com.ua/russkieobschini-krima-nedovolni-trudom- vozgrina-130686.html).
(11) "O faTsifikatsiiakh i podloge v knige Vozgrina" (http://ndkt.org/o-falsifikatsiyah-i-podloge-v-knige-vozgrina. html).
(12) Hence this review barely touches on the early history of Crimea and the history of the Crimean Tatars in the late 19th and 20th centuries, discussed in Vozgrin's volumes 1 and 3; volume 4 is reserved for documents, indexes, and bibliography.
(13) On monarchia mixta in Eurasia, see Lhamsuren Munkh-Erdene, "The 1640 Great Code: An Inner Asian Parallel to the Treaty of Westphalia," Central Asian Survey 29, 3 (2010): 26988; Cherie Woodworth, "The Birth of the Captive Autocracy: Moscow, 1432," Journal of Early Modern History 13, 1 (2009): 49-69; David Sneath, The Headless State: Aristocratic Orders, Kinship, Society, and Misrepresentations of Nomadic Inner Asia (New York: Columbia University Press, 2007); and Donald Ostrowski, "The Facade of Legitimacy: Exchange of Power and Authority in Early Modern Russia," Comparative Studies in Society and History 44, 3 (2002): 534-63.
(14) Alan W. Fisher, The Crimean Tatars (Stanford, CA: Hoover Institution Press, 1978).
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|Title Annotation:||Bitter Choices: Loyalty and Betrayal in the Russian Conquest of the North Caucasus; Tsars, Cossacks, and Nomads: The Formation of a Borderland Culture in Northern Kazakhstan in the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries; Istoriia krymskikh tatar: Ocherki etnicheskoi istorii korennogo naseleniia Kryma|
|Article Type:||Book review|
|Date:||Sep 22, 2016|
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