Chapter Three
The Crimena Tatars' Needs
The Crimea's Economic Situation
Maintaining the fragile calm in the Crimea will depend greatly on the level of prosperity. Conventional wisdom holds that the greater the economic growth rate, and the more jobs created, the less the chances for instability and inter-ethnic conflict. The problem is that since Ukraine gained independence its national economy has been contracting, with the hardest-hit region being the Crimea. The Ukrainian economic situation has been significantly worse than even Russia's. Still, Ukraine's darkest days may be behind it, as a variety of indicators of late have been pointing toward gradual economic improvement. According to the European Bank for Reconstruction and Development, Ukraine experienced a rise in real wages in 1995 for the first time in four years, with the average monthly salary reaching $53. The rate of decline of the gross domestic product (GDP) is expected to decrease significantly. In 1995, GDP declined by 8 percent, but projections for 1996 envisioned a 2 percent drop. Meanwhile, the inflation rate, although still triple-digit, is likewise projected to drop-from roughly 380 percent in 1995 to an estimated 1996 level of 100 percent.
While there are reasons for optimism for Ukraine in general, the Crimea nonetheless appears blocked economically. World Bank estimates show overall production in the Crimea falling by 21 percent during the first nine months of 1995, as compared to a 14 percent decline in Ukraine as a whole. This continues a post-independence trend in which economic performance on the peninsula has lagged behind that of other Ukrainian regions. Closing the gap poses special challenges for the Crimea. From a geographic standpoint, the Crimea is in a difficult position because light and heavy industries are located a long way from traditional markets. The peninsula is also almost totally dependent on the Ukrainian mainland for power supplies. Amidst the chaos of economic collapse, the great distances separating energy sources from users have often resulted in disruptions in power and insufficient supplies. Ensuring steadier access to energy would therefore figure to be a prerequisite for any Crimean recovery effort.
At the same time, there is a very large political component to the Crimea's economic woes. The separatist rumblings of the Russian majority damaged the peninsula's economic performance by distracting attention from the need to restructure. And even after the stall of the separatist drive, the prevailing Soviet-style political outlook has continued to retard reform impulses. Old thinking is most visible in the sphere of privatization. While privatization has proceeded slowly all across Ukraine, resistance to individual ownership of property remains especially strong in the Crimea, and uncertainty over future ownership rights has, in turn, discouraged much-needed investment.
Tourism is one area that could serve as a major growth vehicle for the Crimea, creating an untold number of jobs, but those in charge of the tourist industry have been slow to adapt. Not enough is being done to attract more affluent, foreign travelers, many observers say. "The Crimea is conservative and resistant to change," says Nicolaas de Zwager, head of the Kiev office of the International Organization for Migration. "There is huge potential for tourism, but the conservative attitudes hold everything up."
Poor economic conditions have diminished the amount of resources available to returning Crimean Tatars for the construction of a suitable infrastructure. Regional government official Vadim Petrov believes about $1 billion is needed, while mejlis leaders insist at least $2 billion is required to provide Tatars with reasonable living conditions. Whatever the figure, the amount is so large that it is unrealistic to expect sufficient assistance anytime soon, either from the Ukrainian government or from international sources. Tatar leaders realize they can not count on outside help, but appreciate any amount of aid. "We accept the fact that economic conditions are bad, therefore we don't demand more aid," said mejlis leader Nadir Bekirov. "But we do want the Ukrainian government to pay more attention to legal issues."
Crimean Tatar Aims And Strategies
As Bekirov's comment indicates, mejlis leaders have been concentrating their efforts on widening legal rights for the Tatar community. Tatar leaders described existing legislation as excessively vague, leaving open the possibility of state-sanctioned discrimination. Mustafa Jemilev explained the Tatar viewpoint on the expansion of rights in the following way; "We do not want handouts. If we had what was taken away from us [in 1944], we would be in fine shape. But this [restitution or compensation] won't happen and we realize this. . . . What we want is a mechanism to defend our rights. We don't want to dictate to anyone, but neither do we want to be dictated to."
Tatars present a monolithic facade when discussing civil rights matters, and this unity of purpose is "unshakable," according to Lennur Arifiev, another mejlis leader. Unlike the matter of government assistance, expectations are very high among Tatar leaders that demands for Ukrainian government action in the legislative sphere can, and must be fulfilled. "There are issues that can be solved without money," Jemilev insists.
Of primary concern to the mejlis is the issue of citizenship. Under Ukrainian law, anyone residing in the country in 1991-arriving before the country's declaration of independence-was automatically entitled to citizenship. But for those arriving after 1991, obtaining citizenship has been a time-consuming and convoluted process. Among the conditions that must be fulfilled is a five-year residency requirement. There is also a prohibition against the holding of dual-citizenship. As a result, roughly half of all Tatars-120,000 or so people-in the Crimea in mid-1996 did not possess Ukrainian citizenship. A few who were even born in the Crimea before World War II do not have citizenship because their records were destroyed by Soviet officials, leaving them unable to prove their place of birth.
Because of citizenship hurdles, perhaps a majority of Tatars in the Crimea were ineligible to vote as of 1996. Their lack of citizenship also has important social and economic implications in that non-citizens have greater difficulty in gaining access to housing, employment, schooling and medical care. Citizenship is also a requirement for eligibility to participate in the privatization process, if and when it begins. The mejlis has insisted that Ukraine should waive its citizenship rules for Tatars, granting immediate citizenship to all Tatars resettling in their ancestral homeland.
Connected to the citizenship issue, is a yearning of many Tatars to be legally recognized as an "indigenous people" of the Crimea. While an unorthodox approach, Tatar thinking goes that "indigenous" status would boost cultural revival efforts, especially in the spheres of language and religion. "The Crimean Tatars are not simply an ethnic group or an ethnic minority, they are an indigenous population, returning to their historical homeland," Arifiev says. "One must understand this point of view, if one wants to hold a constructive dialogue [with the Tatar leadership]."
At present, the mejlis has no official status, either on the state or regional level. Ukrainian officials in Kiev, as well as the Russians in Simferopol, realize that the mejlis must be engaged when discussing Crimean Tatar issues. But mejlis members are eager to be recognized as the official representative of the Crimean Tatar people. "Recognition of the mejlis would send us an important signal that we are the objects of politics [not the subjects]," Arifiev says. Tatar leaders leave open the question of what powers the mejlis should wield if it were somehow recognized as a governmental actor. The act of recognition itself is the priority.
During the summer of 1996, mejlis members engaged in often acrimonious wrangling with Ukrainian and Russian officials over the extent of constitutional guarantees for Tatars. Opposition was especially fierce to provisional clauses contained in the draft Crimean constitution that Tatars viewed as potentially discriminatory. The draft was designed to replace the Soviet-era constitution, which was suspended in March 1995. Most of the draft has been approved "in principle" by the Supreme Rada, or Ukrainian parliament, while several disputed points have been designated for further refinement. One article awaiting clarification-of particular concern to the mejlis-was the Crimean draft constitution's lack of guaranteed representation in the regional legislature for ethnic minorities. When the last regional legislative election was conducted in 1994, the Crimean Tatars were assured of receiving 14 seats in the 98-member chamber, a number roughly commensurate to their share of the peninsula's population. Only Tatars were eligible to vote for those 14 seats, ensuring a slate of candidates proposed by the mejlis won the election. In addition, four other parliamentary seats were reserved for representatives from other ethnic minorities in the Crimea.
Russian officials agreed to the legislative quotas only after Tatars staged mass demonstrations in late 1993. The debate in mid-1996 raged around the question of making representation quotas for ethnic minorities permanent or not.
Tatar leaders contended that not only should quotas be preserved, but the number of seats reserved for Tatars should be expanded. "Fourteen out of 98 is not enough," Jemilev said. "It [the Crimean parliament] can still easily adopt decisions that go against our interests." The mejlis has expressed dissatisfaction about its lack of input in the Crimean constitutional drafting process, and has warned of unrest if the parliamentary quota is eliminated. "A significant part of Crimean [Russian] politicians still do not realize that social stability and civic and inter-ethnic harmony in the Crimea, is possible only through mutual respect and the observation of natural and irrevocable rights," said a mejlis declaration adopted in November 1995.
Tatar leaders also have concerns about the Ukrainian constitution that was ratified in June 1996, asserting that some provisions on ethnic minority rights are too vague. Language rights are a particular concern. The constitution calls for Ukrainian to be the official state language, but says little about the ability of ethnic minorities to operate schools in their native tongues. The mejlis is certain to press for guarantees on Tatar-language education. But given the vagueness of the language, the job of interpreting the constitution will be up to the Ukrainian Supreme Court, an institution still in its formative stage.
Relying on the judicial system is something with which most Tatars are extremely uncomfortable. In Soviet times, the legal system was used as a political instrument to oppress Tatars, and many remain suspicious that the judiciary is little more than an appendage of executive power, not a check on executive or legislative excess.
Over the long term, Tatar leaders are concerned that constitutional vagueness could be manipulated to support the assimilation of Ukraine's ethnic minorities. Assimilation, or integration, is an extremely sensitive topic for mejlis members. Well aware of the fate of their forebears, Tatar leaders are determined not just to promote the return to the Crimea, but also to see their traditional culture once again flourish on the peninsula. Anything suggesting otherwise is immediately viewed with suspicion. Thus, many Tatars tend to view talk about assimilation as a polite way of calling for cultural annihilation.
Mejlis emphasis on strengthening a separate Crimean Tatar identity is timely. The next few decades could be decisive in determining whether a distinctly Tatar culture survives or not. Persistent persecution and Russification, particularly during the last half-century, has altered many Tatars' way of thinking. "There has been severe degradation in the cultural and entrepreneurial spheres," said Server Ebubekirov, a leading Tatar historian. "Today's Tatars aren't the same as those who were deported. . . . A certain Sovietization occurred during the years in exile . . . Many people saw all the lying, cheating and stealing from the state that went on and began asking themselves, 'If others are doing it, why shouldn't I.'" Among the areas in which Sovietization are particularly evident are agriculture and the environment, Ebubekirov added. Before World War II, he said, Tatars were far more environmentally aware because the livelihood of the majority depended on the careful cultivation of land. During the decades in exile, however, Tatars lost touch with some traditional agricultural practices, and many came to share the general disregard for the environment that characterized the Soviet era.
Reconnecting present-day Tatars with historical values is the key aspect of the strategy for cultural recovery. The problem is that religion and language are the two most important traits defining the Crimean Tatar identity, and it is in these two spheres that contemporary Tatars are experiencing severe deficiencies. Not only does the Tatar community face a shortage of schools and mosques, but there is also a critical lack of personnel and material. The money needed to help overcome these obstacles is, moreover, in short supply.
In the realm of religion, the Crimean Tatars in general have never been further from Islam than they are now. Some of the most basic tenets of Islam-including the prohibition on alcohol consumption, as well as prayer obligations-are routinely ignored by an overwhelming majority. This spirituality gap is a direct result of past government policy. The Islamic component of the Tatar identity came close to vanishing during the Soviet era, as the Communist drive to eliminate religion led to the destruction of most mosques built before the Bolshevik seizure of power in 1917. In addition, Soviet persecution of believers, whatever their religion, resulted in the near-complete alienation of the younger generations of Tatars from Islam.
Today there appears to be a growing interest among Tatars in rediscovering faith. A major factor promoting a return to Islam is the widespread poverty found in Crimean Tatar settlements. Of course, poverty and the accompanying mood of desperation creates fertile ground for the growth of Islamic radicalism, which is often portrayed as fundamentalism. So far, however, there is little evidence that a fundamentalist sentiment is taking root. Given the extent of Sovietization, it would seem almost impossible for Islamic fundamentalism to gain a significant following among Crimean Tatars in the near term. Moreover, mejlis leaders have emphasized the development of secular Islam. Still, some observers believe the present situation can change quickly. "The pendulum tends to swing to the extreme," said Lubow Horich, the UN representative in the Crimea, referring to fundamentalist possibilities. "It hasn't happened, and it may never happen, but the possibility will exist."
The projects undertaken in recent years to promote Islam in the Crimea have been financed largely by Turkey, although other Islamic states, such as the United Arab Emirates, have also been involved. For example, Turkish financial aid, as well as Turkish masons, built the recently opened mosque in Belogorsk, where an imam from Turkey leads prayer services. Turkey also provides educational opportunities for Islamic scholars. About half of the 19 students graduating in 1996 from the Simferopol madress, or Islamic school, were to go on to study at Islamic universities in Turkey or Saudi Arabia. That an Islamic school can once again operate openly in the Crimea is a positive development. Yet the Simferopol madress' ability to train religious leaders does not match the community's needs.
As with religion, the effort to revive Tatar arts and letters has proceeded at a woefully slow pace. The Dutch government provided a boost recently by pledging to help build a Tatar national library in Simferopol. Nevertheless, much more remains to be done to foster the recovery of a Tatar intelligentsia. An educated elite, which has been decimated by decades of Soviet repression, could lead the way in both the revival of traditional values and the protection of the distinct Tatar language.
Reconstituting the intelligentsia promises to be a daunting task because it requires the construction of an entirely new educational infrastructure-a task for which there is little money. Most Tatar leaders recognize that building more schools will solve only part of the problem. Soviet-era textbooks-covering a wide variety of topics, including history-need to be updated, while completely new instruction manuals, such as for Tatar grammar, must be produced. Modern-day teaching equipment, especially computers, also must be obtained. Perhaps more serious than building and material shortages is a projected teacher shortage. According to Fevzi Yakubov, a leading Tatar educator, up to 10,000 new Tatar instructors will be required to meet the expected needs of the community by the year 2000. Few measures have been taken to increase training, and thus avert a potential crisis. The chronic lack of money has played a role, but the overall lack of schools has obscured the matter.
In the battle to keep written and spoken Tatar alive, perhaps the most daunting task may be modernizing the language, while restoring lost etymological traditions. Only about half of all Tatars have a good command of spoken Tatar. Beyond that, the Tatar language is not well equipped for the 21st century, according to Ebubekirov, who cites its lack of words and terms in the technological sphere. That the Tatar language is largely unable to describe the operation of computers and other technology could likely lead to its diminished use. Thus it will be in danger of dying out, unless it begins to keep pace with the new terminology spawned by technological progress. At the same time, Tatar leaders are pushing for a revival of a "Latin" alphabet to replace the present Cyrillic one. Latin characters were used by Tatars in their written language before Stalin imposed Cyrillic script upon them.
The efforts described above to protect and expand rights, gain recognition for the mejlis, preserve representation quotas, and restore a severely eroded cultural base, would help achieve the ultimate Tatar goal of re-establishing national autonomy. "The Crimean Tatars have a right to self-determination," Arifiev said. "We realize this creates apprehension, but it must be stressed that there are many ways to realize this right." mejlis leaders are careful to avoid precisely defining their conception of autonomy-a wise move considering that the idea indeed arouses deep suspicion among Russians in the Crimea and Ukrainian officials in Kiev. Yet, whatever the definition, Tatar self-determination would appear to pose tremendous logistical problems, given that the Crimea already enjoys "autonomous" status. What Tatars would probably like to see is the creation of an effective state within a state, within a state. In such an entity Tatars would be free from interference by Russian officials, who themselves would remain largely independent from Ukrainian authority in Kiev.
Aside from Russian and Ukrainian opposition, there are practical factors that complicate Tatar self-determination. First and foremost is the fact that Tatars are spread widely across the Crimea, and in no city or town do they comprise a majority. One proposal would allow limited self-government in areas with high concentrations of Tatars. But working out details of such a power structure would be difficult, if not impossible. Such an arrangement would require answers to several extremely difficult questions, including what areas would be designated as Tatar autonomous zones? Would Tatar leaders enjoy the right to collect taxes and distribute revenue?
Whether plausible or not, many Tatars worry about the possibility of a repetition of 1944, in which authorities would again deport them and confiscate their property. It may be that Tatars will not feel secure until they see their rights and privileges expanded and secured. Self-determination is viewed by many as the best protection against discrimination. However, the mejlis is keenly aware it does not have sufficient political leverage to fulfill immediately its autonomy aspirations. It furthermore understands that to push too hard for autonomy could provoke a backlash, particularly from apprehensive Crimean Russians, wiping out whatever progress that has been made in the Tatar cultural revival.
The Crimean Russian and Ukrainian Positions
Crimean Russian and Ukrainian officials have generally been tepid in their response to the Tatar drive to defend civil rights and expand political influence. To varying degrees, words have differed from actions. The Crimean Russian leadership in Simferopol is far less sympathetic to the Tatar cause than is the Ukrainian government in Kiev. Simferopol leaders have little incentive to accommodate Tatars because from the viewpoint of many Crimean Russians, any improvement in conditions for Tatars would inversely mean a deterioration of their own living standards. "Tatars think they are the only ones who suffer, but this isn't true. We all suffer," said a middle-aged Crimean Russian resident in Belogorsk, who added that he vigorously opposed the Tatar resettlement of the peninsula. "They get everything and we get nothing. They live better than we do." The mejlis accuses the Russian leadership of lacking good-will, citing the attempt to revoke the Tatar parliamentary quota as an example. Russian authorities counter that they lack the funds to implement programs to help resettlement.
The Tatar issue poses a far greater dilemma for the Ukrainian government. On the one hand, Kiev makes a considerable effort to assist Tatar repatriation because the Ukrainian leadership views Tatars as allies in the struggle with Russia proper over possession of the Crimea. On the other hand, Kiev remains extremely sensitive to questions relating to the unitary nature of an independent Ukraine. The goal for Kiev is to build a centralized state. But at the present time, the leadership remains unsure about the extent of its grip over the entire country. Thus, the Ukrainian government is wary of granting any ethnic group, not just Tatars, rights that might dilute Kiev's authority.
By mid-1996, the Ukrainian government was starting to show greater appreciation for the Crimean Tatar question, something reflected in the rhetoric of top Kiev bureaucrats. For example, Viktor Andrienko, head of the Department of Migration and Refugees of the Ukrainian Ministry for Nationalities and Migration, said; "The main goal for Ukraine [concerning ethnic affairs] is to solve the problems of the deported people now resettling in the Crimea." Mr. Andrienko went on to caution, however, that repatriation in the Crimea was just one of a myriad of migration conundrums confronting Ukraine. The country was also struggling to cope with migration crises stemming from the 1986 Chernobyl nuclear power plant disaster, war and economic chaos in other former Soviet republics, and the return of ethnic Ukrainians, particularly coming back from the "near-abroad.' Thus, even though Tatar repatriation may have been designated as the top priority, Kiev appeared unlikely to significantly increase practical assistance in the near future.
Regarding aid allocations to date, Ukraine has been the only former Soviet republic doing anything concrete to promote Tatar repatriation. Ukrainian officials complain that other states-particularly Russia, which claims to be the legal successor to the former Soviet Union, as well as Uzbekistan, where the majority lived in exile-should extend repatriation assistance to Tatars. So far, though, Tashkent has made but preliminary gestures and Moscow has not responded. Nevertheless, the Ukrainian aid effort is so limited that it can be considered little more than symbolic. Indeed, because of hyperinflation, the real value of allocations for the overall resettlement effort in 1996, the equivalent of about $14 million, was actually far less than the amount of developmental aid extended in 1992. Given that assistance levels probably will remain stagnant for the foreseeable future, Ukrainian officials were trying to ease Tatar concerns with promises to streamline government agencies responsible for dealing with migration issues. Restructuring the bureaucracy, the Ukrainian government argues, would allow aid money to be put to more effective use.
As for the Tatar self-determination quest, the Ukrainian stance is marked by extreme caution. There is a willingness to compromise on some issues, especially the question of automatic citizenship for Tatar returnees. Yet some Ukrainian officials suggest negotiations could prove to be protracted. In order to increase the spirit of mutual trust and cooperation, the Ukrainian government would like to see the Tatar community make gestures that signal recognition of Kiev's ultimate authority in the Crimea. One such gesture might be an increase in the number of Tatars trying to learn the Ukrainian language.
Viktor Yakovlev, a staff member of the Ukrainian parliamentary Commission on Human Rights, National Minorities and Inter-Ethnic Relations, said it was possible that the Supreme Rada could be ready to debate amendments to current citizenship legislation by late 1996. The dispute with the mejlis over citizenship "was difficult, but solvable," he insisted. Far more problematic, however, were some of the mejlis' other demands aimed at achieving autonomy. Ukrainian officials reacted coolly to the desire for formal recognition of Tatars as "indigenous people" of the Crimea, along with calls for recognition of the mejlis as the legal representative of the Crimean Tatar people. In the case of indigenous status, Kiev is fearful of establishing a dangerous precedent. Tatars would presumably seek to establish indigenous recognition as the basis for compensation and reparation claims stemming from the 1944 deportation. Although Kiev is generally sympathetic to the Crimean Tatars' misfortune, it firmly opposes any restitution attempt because of the potential to wreak social and fiscal havoc. "To give them [Tatars] anything significant would raise an outcry from other nationalities that suffered," explained Yakovlev. Likewise, formal recognition of the mejlis could have more of a destabilizing than settling effect on the Crimean political situation, Ukrainian officials assert. "Recognition of the mejlis would create a scenario in which there existed dual power in the Crimea," said Andrienko. The concept of dual-power sets off alarm bells among most post-Soviet politicians, since it was such conditions that allowed the Communists to seize power in 1917.
Although on the whole wary, there are a significant number of Ukrainian officials who, given reasonable reassurances, might be willing to agree with Tatar leaders on some sort of self-determination formula. The biggest stumbling block could turn out to be the ongoing political infighting in Kiev. Virtually since gaining independence, Ukraine has been plagued by a power struggle between the executive and legislative branches of government. The intrigues were hampering Kiev's ability to speak with one voice on a variety of issues, including civil rights matters. In general, the executive branch of the Ukrainian government, led by President Leonid Kuchma, has seemed more predisposed to compromise with Crimean Tatars. Meanwhile, the Supreme Rada has been dominated by Soviet-style legislators, who appeared reluctant to adopt any measure that might offend Russia. Regardless of the branch of government, however, the main players in Ukrainian politics did not consider addressing Crimean Tatar concerns to be an urgent priority. The powerbrokers in Ukraine are divided into regional elites, behaving in a "clan-like" manner, that are still struggling against each other to establish spheres of influence in the economic sector, according to Vyacheslav Koval, a leader of Rukh, the Ukrainian patriotic movement. "The Crimean Tatars' problems are not that important for them [the powerbrokers]," Koval said, "for them there are more important issues."
