We use cookies to distinguish you from other users and to provide you with a better experience on our websites. Close this message to accept cookies or find out how to manage your cookie settings.
To save content items to your account,
please confirm that you agree to abide by our usage policies.
If this is the first time you use this feature, you will be asked to authorise Cambridge Core to connect with your account.
Find out more about saving content to .
To save content items to your Kindle, first ensure no-reply@cambridge.org
is added to your Approved Personal Document E-mail List under your Personal Document Settings
on the Manage Your Content and Devices page of your Amazon account. Then enter the ‘name’ part
of your Kindle email address below.
Find out more about saving to your Kindle.
Note you can select to save to either the @free.kindle.com or @kindle.com variations.
‘@free.kindle.com’ emails are free but can only be saved to your device when it is connected to wi-fi.
‘@kindle.com’ emails can be delivered even when you are not connected to wi-fi, but note that service fees apply.
Historians have tended to view postwar labor migration, including the Turkish-German case, as a one-directional story whose consequences manifested within host country borders. This chapter complicates this narrative by arguing that Turkish migrants were mobile border crossers who traveled as tourists throughout Western Europe and took annual vacations to their homeland. These seasonal remigrations entailed a three-day car ride across Central Europe and the Balkans at the height of the Cold War. The drive traversed an international highway (Europastraße 5) extending from West Germany to Turkey through Austria, socialist Yugoslavia, and communist Bulgaria. Migrants’ unsavory travel experiences along the way underscored East/West divides, and they transmuted their disdain for the “East” onto their impoverished home villages. Moreover, the cars and “Western” consumer goods they transported reshaped their identities. Those in the homeland came to view the Almancı as superfluous spenders who were spending their money selfishly rather than for the good of their communities. Overall, the idea that a migrant could become German shows that those in the homeland could intervene from afar in debates about German identity amid rising racism: although many derided Turks as unable to integrate, they had integrated enough to face difficulties reintegrating into Turkey.
It is impossible to understand the phenomenon of disinformation without unraveling the more perplexing notion of “truth.” This article explores how a Bulgarian psychic or prophet named Baba Vanga (1911–1996) became one of the most noteworthy mediums of “truth” in twentieth- and twenty-first-century Russian imagination. With Bulgarian-Russian transnational ties as context, we trace how belief in Baba Vanga’s abilities and prophecies was propagated by witnesses via word-of-mouth, newspaper articles, books, TV programming, and the internet. We periodize the ways Vanga secured a place in Russian “truth worlds,” drawing upon both science and religion or a conglomeration of both. We look deeper into the origins and more recent circulation of a purported Vanga prophecy from 1979: namely, that Russia would rise to be the ruler of the world. The dissemination of this message, we argue, is not a Russian state plot to bolster aspirations in Ukraine and its standoff with the West. Instead it has been transmitted in far more fragmented and mediated ways and even countered by the Russian Orthodox Church. A deeper pondering of these mediations of Baba Vanga can help us better understand what we call the “post”-truth world, in which truth is crafted by online “posts.” In contrast to the notion of “post-truth” that posits a dearth of truth, our concept of “post”-truth recognizes that truth is not just in unprecedented excess today but is built through a complex and participatory bricolage that uses science and religion to build shared realities as never before in history.
This article presents the results of AMS radiocarbon dating, stable isotope analysis, and FRUITS dietary modelling to investigate dietary variability among sixty individuals buried at Varna in the mid-fifth millennium bc. The principal pattern was the isotopic clustering of some forty-three per cent of the population, which suggests a ‘Varna core diet’, with the remainder showing a wider variety of isotopic profiles. While there is a slight trend for heightened meat and fish consumption among male individuals compared to female and undetermined individuals, the authors found no clear correlation between dietary variation and the well-attested differentiation in material culture in the graves. Three children had isotopic profile and estimated diets unmatched by any of the adults in the sample. Two scenarios, dubbed ‘regional’ and ‘local’, are presented to explain such dietary variability at Varna.
This article explores the subjective experience of nationality and (trans)national belonging based on biographical interviews with two groups of Jewish participants born in Bulgaria before the Second World War, and residing in Bulgaria and in Israel, respectively. I focus on their retrospective accounts of the mass exodus to Israel in 1948–1949 and the maintenance of transnational family and kinship ties thereafter, during the Cold War. The comparison brings into relief the challenges of their integration into the respective national contexts, and the ways in which the memory cultures in the two countries have molded biographical reminiscences. I argue that despite these differences, a unique case of a transnational generation is at hand, formed by their past experiences as well as by the re-negotiation of these experiences, which was made possible from the 1990s on.
The Bulgarian National Bank (BNB) was restructured repeatedly between 1926 and 1935, but these restructurings were superficial and incoherent, producing contradictory outcomes. The liberal spirit of the initial 1926-8 reforms dissolved with the onset of the Great Depression. Subsequently, the BNB was endowed with new instruments and tasked with carrying out the interventionist policies adopted in the 1930s, thus paving the way for the bank’s eventual role in the communist planned economy. This chapter focuses on the significance of BNB’s state ownership and on the tight economic conditionality attached to 1926 and 1928 loans sponsored by the League of Nations. By contrasting policies followed in Bulgaria and Greece during the Depression, it challenges Eichengreen’s hypothesis that heavy defaulters and countries leaving the gold exchange standard performed better relative to those that sought to maintain their reputations as decent debtors.
Chapter 9 is the brief story of the lesser-known World War I reparations of Bulgaria and Russia. Both reparations were large in terms of each countrys output but were subsequently negotiated away in political treaties. In the Soviet Unions case, it is one of the examples of how you can repudiate debt completely but under the cost of exiting the global trading system.
A 3D reconstruction of the principia at Novae (Bulgaria) allows modelling of the inscribed statues, altars and building stones as they used to look. By restoring the inscribed monuments to their original contexts, the model means that Roman military religiosity and its messages can be analysed in the legionary headquarters.
This chapter draws a picture of ownership and control change of large Bulgarian companies after the collapse of communism in 1989. Post-communist privatization has fundamentally changed the ownership landscape. First, in 2018–2019 the state was the largest shareholder in only 9% of the top 100 companies (down from 42% in the mid-1990s). The state has virtually disappeared as a direct largest shareholder of listed companies. Nevertheless, the state still remained among the key ultimate owners among the top 20 companies. Second, foreign investors have become the largest shareholders in 46% of the top 100 companies (up from 31% in the mid-1990s) and in 11.7% of listed companies (up from 6.25% in the mid-1990s).Third, there was a remarkable increase in ownership concentration in listed companies and the percentage of listed companies with dispersed ownership has declined. The destruction of large Bulgarian firms, proxied by their exit rate, was not coupled with an entry of newly established private firms into the top 100 companies. There was no sustainable development of the domestic largest shareholders. The chapter discusses potential determinants explaining the observed ownership changes.
The chapter describes the main nature conservation challenges in Bulgaria, its main policy responses and actions, and their achievements and lessons, primarily over the last 40 years. This covers the country’s natural characteristics, habitats and species of particular importance; the status of nature and main pressures affecting it; nature conservation policies (including biodiversity strategies), legislation, governance and key actors; species measures; protected areas and networks; general conservation measures including habitat management and restoration; nature conservation costs, economic benefits and funding sources; and biodiversity monitoring. Likely future developments are also identified. Conclusions are drawn on what measures have been most effective and why, and what is needed to improve the implementation of existing measures and achieve future nature conservation goals.
The transformation of Ottoman Cisr-i Mustafa Paşa to Bulgarian Svilengrad was the outcome of a combination of both local violence and state-policy that took place throughout the Balkan Wars (1912-13) and within the framework of state-building efforts in both Ottoman imperial and Bulgarian post-imperial contexts. This sequence of mass violence stands at the core of this article. Based on Ottoman, Jewish, international, and translated Bulgarian sources, this article discusses the everyday dynamics and events that took place in the town by placing them in the contexts of the macro-historical transformations generated by the Balkan Wars. It likewise turns to micro-historical analysis to study the violence perpetrated by locals. While it is evident that much of the violence was state-sponsored or, at least, tacitly accepted by the state, and reflected top-down planning, non-state players also took part in the retribution against those they deemed alien to the national cause.
By introducing Bourdieu's notion of symbolic violence, the author explores the state uses of the cinematic industry—notably through the making of grandiose national epics—in the endeavor to model and, ultimately, to assimilate Muslim minorities during the so-called “Revival Process” (1984–1989) in socialist Bulgaria. Drawing attention to often-neglected aspects of film production, such as the selection of symbolically charged “national landscapes,” shooting locations, and the use of Muslim film extras, she examines the production of a state-sponsored historical master narrative, its widespread dissemination at home and abroad, and the attempt at channeling film reception by national minorities and the majority population. The visual recreation of the alleged Ottoman “forced islamization” of Christians and the blurring of the distinction between fiction and fact, as well as past and present were intended to boost the national pride of the majority, achieve support for anti-minority measures, and win the obedience of minorities.
Chapter 4 examines the relationship between Giovanni Amendola and Nelia Pavlova, born 1895. This complex love story has been all but entirely ignored by Italian scholarship on Giovanni and in the national memory. Apparently, the couple had a son who died of meningitis at the age of six in 1929. In Giovanni’s papers there is evidence of the love affair but no acknowledgement of the child. Since Nelia also claims on occasion to have been ‘married’ to Giovanni, some doubt must remain about the veracity of her account. She was a young woman who resembled Eva Kühn in quite a few ways: foreign, multilingual, independent, from her country’s leading political classes, intellectually able. Nelia was one the three people at Giovanni’s deathbed in Cannes (Giorgio was another). Over time, however, the Amendolas, as they put it, ‘lost contact’ with her. Yet she made for herself a distinguished career as a Paris journalist, an expert in Eastern Europe. While the Amendola sons became communists, she remained a liberal democrat, as well as a woman who always remembered Giovanni as her man. Her death probably occurred in 1940. She should not have been forgotten as easily as she has been.
One of the main concepts of mental health promotion is proactivity, rather than reactivity. As psychiatrists we must be the first line of mental health advocacy and to do so we must share clear messages and take definitive actions.
Objectives
Inventing a cause that raises mental health awareness in the society. Afterwards creating a page in the social media that uses common language and which represents the main concepts of mental health and also targets prevention and treatment of mental disorders. Taking part in sport events that have the potential to increase the social awareness and reaching national media in order to popularize the cause.
Methods
First came creation of a page in the social media. Afterwards came the preparation of video materials and e-posters on the following topics: mental health, stigma, myths and facts about mental disorders, early trauma, mental disorders. The materials were posted and “boosted”. All this was accompanied by numerous media events and interviews on national media. In order to garner more attention there were two participations in a 750km bike ultra marathons.
Results
The complex approach of the cause „I ride with you” (Az Karam s teb) led to the establishment of a popular page in the social media. Within 1 year the page got 1500 followers. The page content was shared 733 times. There were 12 national media appearances. All these numbers represent a small but significant step in mental health promotion.
Conclusions
In order to promote healthy “mental environment” we must use diverse and contemporary approaches.
The Copper Age cemetery in Varna, Bulgaria, is famous for the earliest known, massive deposition of exquisite golden artefacts. Radiocarbon dating of the Varna i cemetery, excavated in the period 1972–91, places it in the mid-fifth millennium bc and suggests a duration of c 225 years from c 4550 to c 4325 cal bc. Construction work in the adjacent area (2.5 km to the east of Varna i cemetery) in December 2017 led to the discovery of sixteen new graves, whose characteristics are identical to the burials in the cemetery investigated in the last century. This article discusses the AMS dates of ten newly discovered inhumations. The results match well the existing cemetery chronology, showing that the new graves start slightly later and end earlier than Varna i and have a shorter duration of probably no more than a few decades. It is demonstrated for the first time that some areas of burial on the terrace were in continuous use for one or two generations only, suggesting multi-focal depositional activities as opposed to expedient and opportunistic spatial utilisation.
This study represents an application of the concept of national indifference in the Post-Ottoman Balkans. It addresses the question of why two minority communities in Northwest Bulgaria in the first half of 20th century – the Protestant Voyvodovo community and the Catholic community of Bărdarski Geran, both marked by a strong principle of religious endogamy, intermarried. The author maintains that the main reason why these two communities intermarried was – despite all the differences between them – their national indifference, a parameter that both communities shared. These marriages did not cross the ethno-national boundary (the communities were nationally indifferent and thus ethno-national borders did not divide them). Contrary to standard understandings of the concept of national indifference, the author emphasizes that national indifference can be said to have two sides. On the one hand, nationally indifferent groups represent those in which the “we-they” opposition does not follow national lines, while on the other hand these groups identify and organize themselves on the basis of principles other than national ones. In the example of the inhabitants of Voyvodovo and Bărdarski Geran, this principle was religion. The appreciation of the “positive” side of national indifference enables us to grasp “the native’s point of view,” how people themselves perceived and understood their reality, their identities, and loyalties.
In the summer of 1914 it had been more than forty years since the last major European war. That period had witnessed unprecedented economic growth and the flourishing of culture. Lasting peace was conducive to prosperity, technological progress, and social change. Between the Franco-Prussian war of 1871 and the outbreak of the Great War in 1914 trams appeared on the streets of European cities, and the bigger capitals – London, Paris, Berlin, Budapest – acquired underground metro lines. New factories were built and the urban proletariat grew so rapidly that politicians began to vie for its support. Although the European powers pursued overseas campaigns, the latter’s impact on the daily life of Europeans was limited to articles in the morning press. Nor were peace and development the sole preserve of the West. In Central and Eastern Europe, too, war was not within living memory for the vast majority of citizens.
This chapter tracks how the measures on enemy aliens consolidated, evolved and transformed and how the number of enemy aliens grew and changed between 1915 and the beginning of 1917. In this period, policies against enemy aliens became more detailed and regulated new aspects of the enemy aliens’ lives. The chapter follows the processes of convergence and divergence among countries at war. It also deals with the policies adopted and implemented by countries such as Italy, Bulgaria, Romania and Portugal and its colonies that entered the war at a later stage. It also pays attention to the process that transformed enemy aliens into friendly aliens and vice versa. As the war ground on, while anti-alien feelings among the belligerent populations assumed an anti-Semitic and racial character, the warring governments put in place a two-way process that turned some enemy aliens into friendly aliens and citizens and subjects who belonged to specific national or religious minorities into aliens. This double process mainly concerned, directly and indirectly, the multi-ethnic empires at different stages of the war, and varied greatly from government to government.
Stuck between politics of ethnic nationalism and multiple responsibilities under international legal regimes, Bulgaria has introduced a laissez-passer integration model for refugees which is in stark contrast with integration policies in Western Europe, but ironically achieves similar results of 'othering' and exclusion. The reception of asylum-seekers and refugees has been similar in other Central and Eastern Europen countries, if not more problematic. This paper looks at the reasons for the preference for such an approach and claims that ethnic nationalism is still alive, albeit well disguised. Engaging with theories of 'othering' and 'otherness' from a historico-legal perspective, it aims to illustrate that, despite insurmountable differences between East and West, the increased mixed migratory flows of 2015 onwards have paradoxically contributed to more cohesion in response to migration and integration on a European level.
The war entered 1915 with Germany in possession of most of Belgium and firmly entrenched in northeastern France, Serbia holding its own in the Balkans, and Russia in occupation of Austrian Galicia and Turkish territory along the Caucasus front. On the Western front the British Empire provided much of the manpower in Flanders and the Artois sector, but the Germans successfully stood on the defensive against them, and against the French in the Champagne, making the first effective use of poison gas on the battlefield. In the east, Germany joined Austria-Hungary in liberating Galicia, then conquering Russian Poland, only to have Tsar Nicholas II refuse to consider a separate peace. The Western Allies anticipated the pressure on Russia and tried to force the Dardanelles, an ill-fated campaign that left British and Imperial forces focusing for much of the year on Gallipoli, where Mustafa Kemal became hero of the Turkish effort to repel them. In the spring Italy declared war on Austria-Hungary, opening up a front in the Alps and along the Isonzo River which soon became as stalemated as the Western front. On the Balkan front, Bulgaria entered the war in the autumn, joining the Central Powers in overrunning Serbia.
The Fourth Crusade (1199–1204), culminating in the sack of Constantinople and the conquest of most of the Byzantine empire, is a textbook example of a noble plan gone awry. The original intent was to attack the Ayyubids in Egypt, but along the way financial and other considerations diverted the French and Venetian crusaders to Constantinople where they restored the deposed emperor Isaac II Angelos (r.1185–95, 1203–4) to power. According to an earlier agreement, Isaac was to provide the crusaders with military and financial aid, but fiscal problems within the empire made this impossible. As time passed, anti-Latin sentiment within the city led to a palace coup which overthrew Isaac. The crusaders then seized the city and the empire itself. The Fourth Crusade and the subsequent Latin conquest intensified the anarchy that already existed within the provinces, providing the grace blow to an empire which had become increasingly fragmented to the point of disintegration.