University of Glasgow

Rethinking Russia's Post-Soviet Diaspora: The Potential for Political Mobilisation in Eastern
Ukraine and North-East Estonia
Author(s): Graham Smith and Andrew Wilson
Source: Europe-Asia Studies, Vol. 49, No. 5 (Jul., 1997), pp. 845-864
Published by: Taylor & Francis, Ltd.
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 EUROPE-ASIASTUDIES, Vol. 49, No. 5, 1997, 845-864

Rethinking Russia's Post-Soviet Diaspora:

The Potential for Political Mobilisation in
Eastern Ukraine and North-east Estonia

GRAHAM SMITH & ANDREW WILSON

ONE OF THE MAJORRESEARCHFOCI to emerge within post-Soviet studies has been the
issue of the Russian diaspora.1While work to date has drawn attention to the
possibilities for local and regional destabilisationresulting from the presence of the
25 million Russians living in the 14 borderlandstates of the former USSR,2 it has
shied away from developing either a theory to accountfor the relative passivity of the
diasporasince 1991 or a conceptualframeworkthat might aid comparativestudy. Our
aim in this article is therefore to broaden conceptual horizons and offer some
theoretical perspectives that might provide new insights into our understandingof
these communities.
Firstly, we need to consider the problems subsumedin the label 'the diaspora',not
least because, particularlyat this moment of social flux, we are likely to find a certain
plasticity of identities as members of the diaspora reassess their sense of self in
relation to new and markedlydifferent situationalcontexts. What, in other words, it
means to become an ethnic or linguistic minority, without any sense of having
emigrated, and suddenly become members of states whose core nations regard
themselves as entitled to cultural and political dominance, will vary within and
between 'diasporiccommunities'.Above all we need to be sensitive to heterogeneity:
to talk of say 'Russians in Ukraine' is to risk overstating a collective label which
denies at least the possibility that diasporicidentitiesmay be multiple and fragmented
and not necessarily neatly coterminous with a community of either resistance or
passivity. In addition, we must be open to the possibility that new, subliminal
identities exist or are in the making, which may or may not be synonymous with a
sense of difference equatablewith such categories as 'local Russians', 'the Russian
homeland', or 'the former Soviet Union'. It may well be that a hybridityof identities
predominatesas individuals live out their sense of self in relation to complex urban
life styles which, as Marx might have put it, means that I may feel a member of a
persecutedethnic minority in the morning, a Russian patriotin the afternoonand an
industrial worker in the evening, without any sense of one such identity taking
priority over another. The symbolic constitution of social solidarity amongst the
diasporais likely to be defined by the actual practice of mobilisationand the process
of competitionbetween group spokespeopleto define the diaspora'sstatus,ratherthan
being a pre-determinedgiven.3 In short, we should avoid falling into the trap of
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846 GRAHAM SMITH & ANDREW WILSON

assuming that we are dealing with coherent and homogenised/homogenising

'diasporic identities' of the sort invented by nationalist intellectuals. In most in-
stances, the diaspora seems to be resisting this tendency; so therefore should
commentators.
Secondly, it needs to be recognised that diasporicidentities are likely to be shaped
not only by how diasporacommunitiesdefine their own culturalattributesbut also by
how they relate to 'others'. Brubakeris one of the few commentatorsto recognise the
importance of this relational dimension in the non-Russian successor states, as
reflected in his triadic nexus of 'nationalising state', 'the diaspora' and 'external
homeland'.4According to Brubaker,the political practice of a 'nationalising state'
results from the fact that, despite acquiring statehood in 1991, core nation elites in
each successor state still see themselves as having to secure a dominantplace for their
nation within the cultural, economic and political life of their 'historic' homelands.
Policies designed to promote the language, culture, economic well-being and even
political hegemony of the core nation produce obvious status and culture threatsfor
the diaspora.
The relationshipbetween the diasporaand its externalhomeland, Russia, will also
have an importantbearing on diasporic politics, in terms firstly of the role the
diaspora ascribes to 'the external homeland' in its own geographical imaginations,
and secondly the role that Russia is likely to adopt as ethnic 'patron'to the diaspora.
Once again we should be aware that linkages are above all relational and are likely
to be multifaceted and ever changing. Some parts of the diaspora may see their
'homeland' as coterminouswith the Russian Federation,some may see it as located
in their host successor state, some may continue to cling to broaderand/orhistorical
versions of homeland, such as the USSR or Slavia Orthodoxa.
As regards the external 'homeland' as a concrete political agent, the adoption of
supportivepolicies by Moscow will be likely to reinforce a sense of identity with
Russia, particularlyif there exists a sense that the diaspora people have become
victims of new nationalisingstates (as with Sudeten Germans,previously part of the
Habsburg empire, in the 1930s), whereas a sense of abandonmentmight weaken
identific bonds (as with some Ulster Protestantsafter 1972). Lastly, we need to take
into account the third link in the triad, namely the relationship between 'the
nationalising state' and 'Russia', because the manner in which each successor state
treatsits diaspora,the sorts of policies that Russia pursues in relationto the diaspora
and the temper of inter-staterelations will all have an influence on one another.
Thirdly and finally, diasporic studies can be enrichedby drawing upon the corpus
of theoretical ideas and methodologies produced by the 'new social movement'
literaturethat emerged on the new identity politics associated with ethnic minority,
environmentaland feminist movements and the like in the West in the 1960s and the
ThirdWorld in the early 1980s.5 Ratherthan assuming that grievance by itself leads
to collective action, this literatureaddresses itself to such perspectives as how the
state can facilitate or impede social mobilisation,what resources,if any, are available
to supportcollective action, how it is organisedand what its eventual outcome might
be. Most such studies have been dominatedby either the 'political process' model,
emphasising the role of the state and political system and expanding or contracting
political opportunitiesas a stimulus or break on collective action (top-down perspec-

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 RUSSIA'S DIASPORA 847

tive), or by the 'resource mobilisation' model that focuses on the critical role of
cultural,materialand formal organisationalresourcesin the mobilisationof communi-
ties or marginal groups (bottom-upperspective). The interactive dynamics between
the two have, however, been neglected. This article will seek to combine both
perspectives,providinga holistic frameworkfor understandingthe natureand form of
collective action amongst the Russia diaspora, as well as enabling us to focus
analytical attention on why the scale and extent of collective action may vary over
time and place.
We examine two diasporic communities in what are often considered to be
potentialgeopolitical hotspots:north-eastEstonia and the Donbas region in Ukraine.6
In north-eastEstonia, Russian-speakersmake up just over four-fifths of the popu-
lation, of whom 90% are ethnic Russians, the remainderbeing nearly all Ukrainian
and Belarusian.7In the Donbas, ethnic Russians comprise just under one-half but,
given the weakness of the Ukrainianculturaltraditionin the region, the proportionof
Russian speakersis over four-fifths.8Both are old urbanindustrialregions with a still
predominantlysocialist labour culture now facing an unprecedentedscale of social
upheaval as a consequence of moves towards a marketeconomy.
Yet they are also very different sorts of communities and are thereforeof interest
comparatively.The diasporaof the Donbas is less culturallydistinctive than that of
north-east Estonia; whereas the latter comprises what Gurr would call an 'ethno-
class',9 made up overwhelmingly of ethnic Russian immigrantswho settled in the
locality duringthe Soviet period and who speak little or no Estonianand are more or
less exclusively urban industrial workers, the former comprises an overlapping
mixture of ethnic Russians, Russophones and Ukrainophones,a large proportionof
whom have local roots going back generations.10Moreover, the broader Russian
and/orRussophonecommunityis much largerin Ukrainethan in Estonia. In Estonia,
ethnic Russians total 475 000, of whom about a third reside in the north-east;"1
whereas in Ukraine there are some 11.4 million ethnic Russians and at least six
million Ukrainiansand members of various minorities who prefer to use Russian,12
most of whom are concentratedin the broadarc of Ukrainianterritorystretchingfrom
Kharkiv to Odesa, of which the Donbas is only the south-easterncomer. Unlike
Estonia, in Ukraine the titularlanguage is relatively close to Russian, although it is
this very closeness that makes many Russophonesresent the 'unnecessary'adoption
of Ukrainian.13
Both localities have also emerged as particularsites of resistance to what are
perceived as 'nationalising'policies, as reflected in periodic strikes, demonstrations
and calls for or use of local referendaconcerning their future political status.14Yet
neither locality has translated this sense of grievance into the kind of organised
irredentist collective action that might threaten the territorial integrity of their
respective polities. The aim of this article is thereforeto understandwhy this might
be the case. First, we examine the political opportunitystructuresin both Ukraineand
Estonia by drawing upon the works of Sidney Tarrow as a conceptual building
block.15 We illustrate how the nature of political opportunities differs between
Ukraine and Estonia and the implications this has for mediating the political spaces
for collective action. Secondly, we consider what resources are available to the
diasporain the Donbas and north-eastEstonia to facilitate collective action. Here we

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848 GRAHAM SMITH & ANDREW WILSON

consider both internal and external resources salient to ethno-regionalmobilisation,

pointing out the similarities and differences between the two localities and focusing
on the reasons why supportfor an irredentistpolitics has been weaker than is often
presumed.

Dimensions of opportunity
We define political opportunitiesas 'dimensionsof the political environment(primar-
ily the state and its political system) that provide incentives (or disincentives) for
people to undertakecollective action by affecting their expectations for success or
failure'.16 For previously marginalisedor politically passive groups, collective action
can arise as a result of new or expandedopportunitiesof the sort createdby regimes
embarkingupon state formation.According to Tarrow,four perspectives are particu-
larly salient to facilitatingcollective action by 'challengers'to the governing political
consensus in any given polity:
(a) the opening up of access to participation,
(b) shifts in ruling alignments,
(c) the availability of influentialallies, and
(d) cleavages within and among political elites.
A potential fifth factor, 'the state's capacity and propensity for repression' and its
potential to discourage or, if inefficient, encourage mobilisation,l7is not considered
here as it is not yet part of the political agenda in either Estonia or Ukraine,although
it could of course become so. Taken together, these four factors signal the vulner-
ability or otherwise of the state to diasporicchallengersand thereforehelp determine
whether the diasporais likely to engage in collective action.

Ukraine
In Ukraine the political opportunity structure is relatively open. Citizenship and
voting rights are based on the so-called 'zero-option' law of October 1991, which
granted citizenship to all those resident on Ukrainian territory at the time. No
significant restrictions are placed on political activity or office holding by non-
Ukrainians,l8and liberal laws on association and party formation allow a level
playing field for groups of any nationality. Barriers to political access therefore
cannot be expected to prevent collective action by ethnic Russians or Russophones.
Political elite membersfrom the Donbas have played a significantrole in both local
and centraladministration,19 maintainingthe habits acquiredin Soviet times, when, in
sharp contrast to north-east Estonia, there was a well-established career structure
running from the Donbas all the way to Moscow. Indeed, a so-called 'Donbas
government' was formed in Kiev in summer 1993 in an attempt to quell the strike
wave that began in the eastern coalfields that June, which included the former head
of Donets'k council Yukhym Zviahil's'kyi and the leader of the Donbas 'red
directors' Valentyn Landyk, then head of the Labour Party of Ukraine.
When Leonid Kuchmabecame presidentin 1994 he furtherempoweredlocal elites
by creating a Council of the Regions, although his proposal to create a bicameral

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 RUSSIA'S DIASPORA 849

parliament,with a regional Senate as the upper house, was dropped during consti-
tutionalnegotiationsin 1996. Kuchmahas also continuedthe practiceof 'parachuting'
local leaders into national positions. The former head of Dnipropetrovs'kcouncil
Pavlo Lazarenkobecame prime ministerin May 1996; Serhii Kulyakov, formerhead
of the Thorez mine in Donets'k, was made coal minister after a series of strikes in
November 1995.
The problemin Ukraineis thereforefar from being a lack of political opportunities
for the diasporaas a whole. Rather,it is what to make of those opportunities,given
that, firstly, Ukrainiansand Russians, Ukrainophonesand Russophones share power
in Kiev, and secondly, that the diasporain Ukraine is itself regionally divided, with
elites from Odesa, Kharkiv,Dnipropetrovs'kand Crimeacompeting with those from
the Donbas to exercise political influence.
In terms of Tarrow's dimensions of political opportunity,the key factor simul-
taneously empowering and undermining the diaspora in Ukraine has been the
instabilityof elite alignmentsin the Ukrainianpolity. Deep cleavages both within and
amongst elites and periodic shifts in ruling alignments have opened up the polity to
outsiderchallenge and encouragedelites in Kiev to broadentheir base of supportby
appealing to third parties (it should be borne in mind that the constituent units in
Ukrainianpolitics are not always political parties,but informalregional and clientelis-
tic groupings).The elite unity that was temporarilyachieved in 1991, with national-
ists and nationalcommunistsbacking independenceand the Ukrainianleft seeking to
isolate itself from El'tsin's Russia, was soon undermined;firstly by the emergence of
a series of Donbas-basedparties in 1992-93 to challenge the short-lived monopoly
enjoyed by the nationalistparties in Kiev after the banning of the CommunistParty
in August 1991, secondly by the parliamentaryand presidentialelections of 1994, and
thirdly by the belated launch of an economic reform programmeby the incoming
Kuchma administrationin October 1994.
Four main parties emerged in the Donbas soon after independence. The Liberal
Party,establishedin August 1991, representednew entrepreneurs,local tradingcapital
and reform-mindedindustrialists,but only began to grow in influence after a more
market-friendlyenvironmentbegan to develop after 1994; the Labour Party, estab-
lished in December 1992, was, despite its name, backed by eastern Ukraine's 'red
directors' lobby; while the Civic Congress and Party of Slavonic Unity, established
in June and May 1992, were formed by small groups of diasporaintellectuals.20(In
March 1996, on the anniversaryof the March 1991 referendumon the preservation
of the USSR, the Civic Congress was the leading force behind the establishmentof
the Congress of Russian Communitiesof Ukraine).The largest of the four by far was
the CommunistPartyof Ukraine,revived at a congress in Donets'k in June 1993. All
have championeda common political agendafor the Donbas, namely local autonomy,
the use of Russian as the local language of administrationand as a second state
language in Ukraine as a whole, and closer links with the CIS, although the
CommunistParty,particularlythe more radicalbranchin Luhans'k,had openly called
for the restorationof the USSR. However, the Communist,Labourand Liberalparties
representdivergent economic interests and have been unable to act in concert.
Significantly,however, after 1993 Ukrainehad, in the CommunistParty,a massive
opposition party which openly opposed the main principles of the state and champi-

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850 GRAHAM SMITH & ANDREW WILSON

oned diaspora issues previously only raised by small groups such as the Civic
Congress. As well as 140 000 members, making it almost three times the size of the
next largest party, the Communist Party had the support of some 40 deputies in
parliamentin 1993-94, rising to 95 after the elections of spring 1994 (out of 338). In
the Donbas the Communistswon 40 out of 67 seats. The Civic Congress won only
one, the Labour Party a disappointing two and the Liberal Party none (although
several deputies and a majority of the local council in Donets'k joined it after the
elections). The Party of Slavonic Unity remains a fringe group.
The really important initiation effect sparking diasporic protest, however, was
provided by the deep split in the ruling elite during the 1994 presidentialelection.
Whereas Estonian elites were able to prevent divisions over economic policy from
spilling over into ethnopolitics,in Ukrainethe two could not be kept separate.There
was no consensus on basic issues of whether the defence of statehood should take
priority over economic reform, whether Ukraine should seek its economic and
diplomaticfuturein Europe or with the CIS, or even on the desirabilityof Ukrainian
statehooditself. The presidentialcampaignwas markedby bitterdivisions on all three
issues, with three-quartersof Ukrainian-speakersbacking the incumbent Leonid
Kravchukand three-quartersof Russian-speakersthe challenger and eventual victor,
the former prime minister Leonid Kuchma.21
However, althoughthe election forced Ukrainophonesand Russophones into rival
camps and the transfer of power opened up new opportunitiesfor the exercise of
political leverage from eastern Ukraine, Ukraine's various diaspora groups do not
always work together smoothly. For Donbas politicians, other groupings from
Kharkivand Dnipropetrovs'kare both influentialallies and potentialrivals. The 1994
elections encouraged them to act together in defence of their common language
interest and blunt the challenge of the 'nationalisingstate', but in between elections
regional interests come to the fore and each group tends to free-ride on the others'
efforts on ethnic or linguistic issues, resulting in a diminution of overall diasporic
lobbying power. Moreover, after his election Kuchmapromotedhis supportersfrom
his home region of Dnipropetrovs'k at the expense of the Zviahil's'kyi-Landyk
group,22and the local elections held in the Donbas in summer 1994 resulted in
divisions opening up even between the two halves of the Donbas. Luhans'k oblast'
remainedunder the control of the most conservativebranchof the CommunistParty
of Ukraine,althoughits leader, Petro Kupin, was removed by Kuchmaas head of the
local council in November 1995. On the other hand, in Donets'k, although the
Communists dominated voting for the national parliament in Kiev, the reformist
Liberal Party was the main force on the local council and Volodymyr Shcherban',
leader of the Liberals after 1995, was elected local mayor with 61.1% of the popular
vote.

Estonia
Estonia differs from Ukraine in adopting a very different type of participatory
democracy,which can be labelled 'an ethnic democracy'.23In this type of regime, the
political hegemony of the core nation is secured by limiting access to political and
electoral participationto only those membersof the polity who qualify for citizenship

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 RUSSIA'S DIASPORA 851

underthe 1992 law, accordingto which only those who were citizens in the interwar
years of independent statehood and their descendants are automatically granted
citizenship. For the remainder, made up overwhelmingly of Russian settlers who
moved into the republic during the Soviet period, naturalisationrequires length of
residency (two years from 1990 plus a one-year waiting period), competence in the
Estonian language, and an oath of loyalty. For most of the diaspora, the major
obstacle to membershipof the citizen-polity is language. According to recent studies,
60% of Estonia's 600 000-strong diaspora (who make up one-third of the total
population)have no knowledge of the official state language, a productof the Soviet
era when Russians moving into the non-Russian borderlandswere not required to
learn the local languages.24At present, just over one-sixth of Russian-speakersare
Estonian citizens. Consequently,some 490 000 of the Russian diasporado not have
the right to participatein nationalelections or form their own political organisations.25
Where electoral opportunitiesexist, they are limited to the right to vote in local
governmentelections, but do not include the right to stand for municipal office.
By definingchannels of access throughits citizenshippolicies, the state has had an
importantregulative impact on the form of collective action. In structuringpolitical
access on the basis of non-ethniccriteria,the state has helped to create 'insiders' and
'outsiders' amongst the diaspora and in the process weakened the social base for
collective action. This has helped promote political factionalism amongst diasporic
elites, between so-called 'integrationists',comprisingthe Russianpolitical parties(see
below) and an umbrella organisation,the Russian RepresentativeAssembly (RRA),
who have chosen institutionalpolitics as the arena to champion citizen rights, and
'hard-liners',most notably The Russian Council, set up in April 1993 in opposition
to the RRA, who demand both unconditional citizenship and the installation of
Russian as the second official state language. Additionally, because the state keeps
open the possibility of individual members of the settler communities becoming
members of the citizen-polity and thereby advancing their status and material
prospects, ordinaryRussians must weigh the short-termcosts of being a non-citizen
against the long-term benefits of individual adherence to the status quo. This may
explain why many chose to invest their time and resourcesin becoming citizens rather
than engaging in collective action. The growth in attendanceat Estonian language
schools, for instance, indicates that many Russian-speakersare keen to exploit the
avenues that exist to become citizens.26
As Tarrow notes, partially opened access has a tendency to encourage protest.27
In Estonia,local municipalgovernmentprovidessuch a halfway opening, especially in
the north-easterntowns of Narva, Sillamae and Kohtla-Jarve,where local urban
administrativeinstitutionshave providedthe diasporawith an opportunitystructurenot
only to mobilise their localities into collective action but also to challenge the centre.
In the late Soviet period, the pre-existing local Communist Party and municipal
government(urbansoviet) in the region's largest town, Narva, provided the diaspora
with a local organisationalbase which its pro-Soviet political elite used as a platform
to challenge the legitimacy of the inclusion of the north-easternregion in the new
Estonia.28However, a more moderate council emerged from the local elections in
October 1993, as the new citizenship law applied and naturalisationprocedureshad
been used carefully to grant many members of the council citizenship for 'special

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852 GRAHAM SMITH & ANDREW WILSON

services' to the state. Nevertheless, although there is evidence to suggest that

post-1993 urbanpolitical elites display many of the features of agenda gatekeepers
by moderatingthe political demands of more radical elements, councillors still see
their primary role as defending their own diasporic communities. Thus both the
Narva and Sillamae city councils appealed to the Estonian president against the
April 1996 municipal election law that stipulated that citizens standing for local
election must be proficient in the Estonian language.29
If the presence of influentialallies within the political system can have an impact
on mobilising constituents,then in the case of Estonia such a likelihood is circum-
scribed. With the outlawing of the Communist Party in 1991 the diaspora lost an
important means of exercising influence within the Estonian parliament30and, in
sharp contrast to Ukraine, the party has not been legally able to re-form. Conse-
quently, the diasporahas had to rely on either non-Russiandeputies and/or Russian
political parties to look after its interests. The former consist primarily of a small
group of individuals and representativesof the smaller liberal and left-wing political
parties, including the Democratic Labour Party, that have argued in favour of
Estonia adopting a less restrictive citizenship policy. In part, their stance in parlia-
ment, the Riigikogu, has been bolsteredby Westernpressureto moderatecitizenship
legislation and by a recognition of the high cost both geopolitically and economi-
cally to Estonia of alienating the West. The other source of friends at court are
representatives of the Russian faction, Our Home is Estonia, drawn from two
Russian political parties, The Estonian United People's Party and the more radical
and nationalist Russian Party of Estonia, which gained three seats each (the Riigi-
kogu has 101 members) and 5.9% of the total vote in the March 1995 general
election. Although this faction has been sharply critical of Estonia's citizenship
policies, it has nevertheless supported the diaspora applying for Estonian citizen-
ship.31However, disagreementsbetween the two parties have weakened possibilities
for mobilisation around a common front, a problem also compounded by the
existence of a further Russian party, The Russian People's Party, which was
unsuccessful in gaining representationin the Riigikogu. It would seem that Russian
representatives also suffer from their low political profile amongst the diaspora,
especially amongst those who are not citizens. According to a 1995 public opinion
poll of the diaspora in the north-east, a majority of respondentsneither supported
nor knew the names of the representativesof these political parties.32In part, this
might be explained by an electoral process based largely on a national party-list
system, where most candidatesare elected on a countrywidebasis ratherthan on the
basis of local performance.
Estonia's President,LennartMeri, has also occasionally played a role as a 'friend
at court' by using his veto prerogativeto returnlegislation to the Riigikogu without
promulgation, such as in June 1993 over the proposed aliens law,33 and in April
1996 over the municipal election law. On both occasions Meri cited contradictions
with Estonia's constitution and with internationallaw. Whenever Western govern-
ments and human rights organisations,most notably the Organisationfor Security
and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE), have voiced even moderate criticism over
particularlycontroversialcitizenship legislation, the President has been willing not
only to step in to instructthe Riigikogu to reconsider,but actively to encourage the

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 RUSSIA'S DIASPORA 853

OSCE to consider the proposed legislation before making a decision.34 On both

occasions mediationhas resultedin the implementationof more moderatelegislation.
Althoughcore nationpolitical elites have been split on a numberof political issues,
most notably the tempo and scale of economic reforms, there has been a remarkable
consensus on citizenship policy that has prevented elite factionalisation. Conse-
quently, there has been little or no incentive either for a resource-poordiaspora to
seize the political initiative as a result of divisions in Tallinn, or for a disaffected
marginalisedoppositional elite drawnfrom the core nation to take up the gauntletof
minority rights. This elite consensus reflects the strength of feeling that exists
amongstmembersof the core nation against the presence of the diasporaas a product
of Soviet rule and its representationas 'the colonising other'. Moreover, political
factionalism amongst core nation political elites has also been minimalised by the
practice of 'grand' coalition government, the Pro Patria (Fatherland)-dominated
coalition (1992-95) and The Coalition Party-RuralUnion Alliance (1995-), which
has weakened the prospects of a powerful and alienated opposition emerging that
might conceivably seize the role of 'tribunesof the diaspora'. In addition, Western
pressures to do something about citizenship have not yet been sufficient to divide
political elites. Only if the West took a more stringentstance on citizenship, making
a more liberal approachan absolute condition for either EU or NATO membership,
would there be a real chance of serious party political divisions. Thus, despite
periodic instability within the governing coalition due to party realignmentand the
breakingof electoral allegiances, there is no evidence for the possibility suggested by
Tarrowthat elites might attemptto compete for power by taking on board the kind
of political issues that could provide encouragementto diasporic challengers. At
present this would be anathema to core nation elites who are keen to secure the
hegemony of Estonian political interests and who recognise that to do otherwise
would cost themselves, and their political party, dearly in lost votes.

Resource mobilisation
The natureof opportunitystructuresis not in itself sufficient to explain the form and
extent of collective action. Opportunitieshave to be perceived, grasped and pursued.
As Tarrow acknowledges, 'changes in the political opportunity structure create
incentives for collective actions. The magnitudeand durationof these actions depend
on mobilising people throughsocial networksand aroundidentifiablesymbols that are
drawn from cultural frames of meaning'.35Thus, as resource mobilisation theorists
remind us, collective action may be triggeredby the political opportunitystructure,
but must be sustained by political resources if it is to successfully mobilise its
constituents.Although such theories differ in the range and type of resourcesthat they
identify as relevant to collective action, five in particularare generally considered as
universally important.
Firstly, there is a sense of communal relatedness. In order to act as a group,
otherwise isolated individualsmust first obtain a sense both of common identity and
common interests.However, a sense of communityis informednot only by the extent
to which ethnic, linguistic, religious or class identities overlap, but also through
boundarymarkers that help solidify collective identity by promoting a heightened

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854 GRAHAM SMITH & ANDREW WILSON

awareness of commonality both of the 'self' and of the 'other'. For the Russian
diaspora, defining themselves in relation to both the Soviet and post-Soviet experi-
ence, and finding a reconstitutedform of communalrelatednessout of competing and
multiple identities, particularly where localities and workplaces are undergoing
fragmentationand boundednessis far from determined,is unlikely to be easy. Where
these identific markersare strong, they are likely to be more easily exploited by local
elites as symbols of difference and of oppression,as in conflict-tor Trans-Dniester,36
but in both Estonia and especially Ukraine they remain less developed.
The second key resource enabling collective action by the Russian diaspora is
political entrepreneurswilling and able to promote the diaspora's cause. As Roth-
schild notes, mobilising a potential constituency around ethno-regional concerns
almost invariably involves the presence of a cultural intelligentsia who have a
particularinterest in the productionand reproductionof the ethno-culturein ques-
tion.37Thirdly, sustained collective action requires organisationaland material re-
sources, in the form of inherited organisational structures, financial support and
member recruitment.Fourthly,in modem polities the mass media play a key role in
publicising group demands,filteringthe political agenda and encouragingor discour-
aging group solidarity.38Finally, we can identify one external resource particularly
germaneto diasporicpolitics, the role played by an ethnic patron.The extent to which
Russia and nationalistorganisationsin the 'homeland'are willing to provide political,
materialand culturalsupportwill have an importantbearingon the form and scale of
collective action.

The Donbas
In the Donbas there is a powerful but ill-defined sense of community.In contrastto
Estonia, there is a strong sense of local rootedness,even the claim that it is nationalist
west Ukrainianswhose culture and political traditionsare more 'foreign' to Ukraine,
and that without their pernicious influence there need be no strong boundarymarkers
dividing Russians and Ukrainians.39However, this is itself a factor blurring any
precise sense of group boundedness.Class and economic definitionsof local identity
remain important,and a collectivist labour culture still predominatesin the region's
massive mining and metallurgicalindustries,but they do not overlap with ethno-cul-
tural 'insider-outsider' boundariesto create an 'ethno-class' as in north-eastEsto-
nia.40Neither ethnicity nor language are used as precise boundary markers. One
opinion poll taken in Donets'k oblast' in summer 1994 indicated that a massive
84.1% chose 'Soviet' as some aspect of their identity.41Other polls have indicated
that 25-30% of the population of the Donbas continue to think of themselves as
primarily 'Soviet'.42
Economic concerns tend to top local lists of priorities, although the full force of
radicaleconomic restructuringhas yet to hit the region. Official unemploymentin the
Donbas at less than 1% is actually below the national average, although some 20%
are on involuntary leave or only in part-time employment.43However, although a
sharpand sudden threatto the region's economic well-being may well provoke mass
protest, a gradualdeteriorationin economic conditions is as likely to be demobilising
as mobilising.

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 RUSSIA'S DIASPORA 855

Although opinion polls have indicated that up to 40-50% of the population in

Ukraineto the east and south of the river Dnieper (includingthe Donbas) favour some
form of political unity between Ukraine and Russia 'in a single state',44 it is
significantthat local political entrepreneursuse pan-ethnicboundarymarkersin order
to maximise their potential appeal. The most popular parties in the Donbas are the
nominally non-ethnic Liberal and LabourParties and the revived CommunistParty,
ratherthan specifically ethnicist groups such as the Civic Congress. To an extent, all
are proxy parties of ethno-linguisticprotest; all share the same political agenda in
terms of defendingregional interestsand Russophonerights. However, their predomi-
nance is indicative of the plasticity of identities in the region.
A furtherkey paradox resulting from the more open-ended nature of communal
identity in the Donbas is that the local 'imagined community' flows into Ukraine's
ethnic Russian or even Russophonecommunityas a whole, but the sheer size of both
of these groups makes common programmesof collective action difficult to organise,
with the inhabitantsof the Donbas tempted to free-ride on the efforts of others and
vice versa. National elections have consistently demonstratedthat Russophonesmake
up roughly half the electorate,but voting is a relatively low-cost activity in terms of
resource expenditure.Between elections Russophones, with their weaker and more
complex sense of identity, tend to lose ground to better organised and better
motivated nationalistUkrainophones.
On the other hand, the mannerin which diasporamembersin the Donbas conceive
of their own identity also depends on how they react to their depiction by others. If
core nation elites adopt inclusive strategiesthat accept the legitimacy of both ethnic
Russian and Russophone culture in Ukraine, then it is likely that the diaspora will
continue to possess a basically polymorphicidentity, in so far as a mixture of ethnic,
linguistic, civic and statist factors will determineloyalty to the new Ukrainianstate.
On the other hand, many nationalist Ukrainiansfrom western and central Ukraine
already refer to Russophone culture in Ukraine as 'artificial', the result of the
'colonial past' and forcible 'russification' policies. If Ukrainian ethno-nationalism
comes to play a greaterrole in the future,consequentattemptsat 're-Ukrainianisation'
may provide precisely the stimulus to defensive identity formation for the diaspora
that has been lacking in the past.45
The Donbas is well blessed with political entrepreneurs who control substantial
organisational resources, but both are of a certain type. In the 1989-91 period the
only real challenge to the CommunistParty's local monopoly of power came from the
independentminers' union establishedafter the strikes of 1989 and 1991.46 The party
helped establish an Inter-Front(Interdvizhenie)in Donets'k, althoughit was never as
successful as its counterpartin Estonia, as before 1991 there was much less sense of
any 'nationalising'threatemanatingfrom Kiev. Of the new parties established after
independence, the Liberal Party represents new trade and service industry capital
(often former Komsomol money), and the Labour Party the directors of large
industrial enterprises, while the revived Communist Party was dominated by 'the
second tier' of formerparty officials and local patronagenetworks,most more senior
figures having made their compromises with Kiev after 1991 or dropped out of
politics altogether.
All three have considerablemembershipand organisational-material resources.The

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856 GRAHAM SMITH & ANDREW WILSON

Liberals have 11 300 members in the Donbas out of a national total of 28 000, the
Communists20 000 (out of 140 000), although most of the latter are aged veterans,
good for swelling the ranksat demonstrationsbut not for more sophisticatedlobbying
tactics.47The weakness of the LabourParty, on the other hand, is its lack of a real
mass social base. All three receive financial and material supportfrom local enter-
prises; the Nord electrical goods factory and the Mariupol' metallurgicalplant fund
the LabourParty,local supermarketsand banks supportthe Liberals and various coal
mines back the Communists.
On the other hand, the comparative weakness of the Civic Congress and other
organisationsof the Russophile intelligentsia, such as the Party of Slavonic Unity, is
a reflectionof the relative absence of a diasporicculturalintelligentsiain the Donbas.
The Donbas was always an industrialregion, and the traditionalcentres of the Russian
intelligentsiain Ukraine (Kiev and Odesa, to a lesser extent Kharkiv)no longer have
the broader influence they had in 1917. Without the culture-formingactivity of a
prominent local intelligentsia, however, boundary markers remain imprecise and
family or workplace-basedeconomic concerns relatively prominent-a furtherreason
why the diasporahas been unable to punch its electoral weight in competition with
Ukrainophoneelites in Kiev.
Because Ukrainian mass media are still effectively bi-lingual,48political en-
trepreneursfrom the Donbas have always had both a regional and a nationalplatform
for their views, althoughthey have been less effective on the internationalstage (the
majority of newspapers in Ukraine are still either bi-lingual or Russian-language,a
position strengthenedby the declining circulation of the central Kiev press).49The
Donbas has well-developed and well-financed independent media; the newspapers
Zhizn' and Donetskii kryazh are close to the Labour Party and Civic Congress
respectively, the local independentTV channel TRKUkrainahas backed the Labour
Party and its rival ASKET7 X 7 flirtedwith the Civic Congress.50On the other hand,
the mainly technocraticleadershipof most local parties arguablylacks the necessary
cultural capital to make the most articulatedefence of the diasporic cause.

North-east Estonia
In north-eastEstonia there is a strong sense of communityreinforcedby overlapping
ethno-linguisticand socio-economic boundaries,creating an 'ethno-class' in a region
dominatedby recently arrivedmigrantswho know little or no Estonian and who are
more or less exclusively urbanindustrialworkers. The diasporaof the towns of the
north-east therefore suffers in a dual sense: as Russian-speaking settlers and as
state-sector industrial workers living in the most economically deprived region of
Estonia. In Narva only 7000 of its adult population of 64 000 were eligible to vote
at the 1995 national elections, while unemploymentremains the highest in Estonia,
affecting one in three of the city's households.51Moreover, more than amongst the
diaspora elsewhere in Estonia, there is a strong sense of homeland-identitywith
Russia, reinforcedby daily or weekly cross-frontiercommuting.It is also here that we
find the largestproportionof Russian citizens, arounda thirdof the 90 000 in Estonia
who have taken up Russian citizenship since 1991.52Yet, despite this strong sense of
affiliation with the external homeland and of the existence of a particularbrand of

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 RUSSIA'S DIASPORA 857

Estonian nationalism that makes many Russians feel uncomfortable about their
presence within the Estonian homeland, this is not translatedinto a mass politics of
supportfor irredentism.A series of local surveys between 1993 and 1996 suggest that
while the majority of the population of the north-east support greater political
autonomy for the region, only one in 10 identify with a secessionist solution.53It
would also seem from these surveys that the primaryscale of political attachmentis
to a localised ethno-class ratherthan to Russia.54
Estonia's Russian diaspora, particularly in the north-east, does not possess a
cultural intelligentsia of the sort usually associated with playing a pivotal role in
either championingethno-regionalgrievances or in manipulatingsocial markersso as
to facilitateethnic mobilisation.55Although such an intelligentsiaflourishedelsewhere
in the cities of Estonia duringthe interwaryears, it was virtuallywiped out following
Estonia's incorporationinto the Soviet Union, while the diasporic elites that settled
during the Soviet period were more or less exclusively made up of local party
administrators,economic managersand engineers. Thus the diasporahas had to fall
back upon a particulartype of political elite-a technical-economicelite-to cham-
pion its interests.In the late Soviet period this stratumin many respects had most to
lose from Estonian independence, especially given Estonia's hardline insistence, in
comparison with Ukraine, on displacing former members of the Communist Party
apparat from positions of influence. Local elites therefore used the resources of
former organisationalstructures-the municipalCommunistPartyorganisation,trade
union centre and town government (soviet)-and correspondingclass-identity and
ethnic rhetoricand tactics (strikes,local referenda)to mobilise constituentsupportand
provide a springboardfor the formation and activities of the Inter-Front.
Since 1993, however, a new style of less confrontationalpolitics has developed in
the cities of the north-east.Although still largely led by elites drawn from the same
managerial-technical stratum,as elsewhere in Estonia this group has shown dimin-
ishing interest in diasporic politics; rather than struggle to retain or secure their
occupationalniches within administration,political office or public sector economic
management,many have moved into the private sector, making up what constitutes
one of the fastest growing social groups in Estonia, a new Russian business elite. The
time-budgets and resources of this elite are channelled into promoting its own
self-interests ratherthan prioritisingethnic concerns. However, because it is also a
group constrainedby citizenship legislation from becoming a property-owningclass,
it tends to operateon the marginsof the legal marketeconomy, which not only makes
its activities vulnerablein a polity concernedabout the growth of the black economy,
but also provides a possible source of identific and financial support for diasporic
politics.
The diaspora of north-east Estonia, like that of the Donbas, can draw upon
substantialorganisationalresources, although in the absence of a real local electoral
base or local political party to act as a challenger to the state, this facility is more
poorly developed. Nor have national organisations been any more effective. The
Russian RepresentativeAssembly (RRA), set up in 1993 to coordinateand champion
the activities of various diasporic organisations, has been weakened by political
factionalism amongst disparate and highly localised organisations that tend to be
small in scale, limited in duration and uncertain over their aims. In contrast to

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858 GRAHAM SMITH & ANDREW WILSON

Ukraine, the organisationalbase for radical diasporic politics is therefore largely

confined to the North-East. In addition to the role played by the local urban
municipalities,the region's major cities each have a 'Citizens Committee', the most
powerful of which is in Narva, headed by the city's former mayor, Yurii Mishin. Its
radical policies, which have included calling for the setting up of an alternative
electoral body to represent the local diaspora,56have occasionally brought it into
conflict even with the local municipal authority.Nevertheless, its local supportbase
is substantial,and is reinforcedby stronglinks with local tradeunion activities widely
supportedamongst an urbanpopulationthat has had to endureconsiderablehardship
and uncertaintyfollowing wide-scale economic privatisationin the city.
Although the plight of the north-east'sdiasporareceives global news coverage, it
lacks the leadershipskills, including linguistic tools, and access to either the Estonian
or Western media to secure a more sympathetic audience both inside and beyond
Estonia. In contrast to the diaspora in the Donbas, Russians in north-east Estonia
therefore have limited media resources to reach their constituents and so influence
in-group political attitudes and behaviour. Indeed, owing to insufficient funds, the
long established and most widely read diaspora language newspaper, Molodezh'
Estonii, is threatenedwith closure.57However, as the only part of Estonia to receive
Russian State Television (Ostankino), the north-east is not without a supportive
medium whose rhetoric focuses on the north-east as victim of unjust nationalist
politics. Irrespectiveof whethersuch a mediumharmoniseswith the collective beliefs
of the locality, it is likely to have a continuing influence on attitude formation.
Clearly, the impact of the geopolitics of such informationflows on the north-eastand
on the diasporamore generally requires furtherstudy.

The role of the ethnic patron

The final, external, resource for the diaspora in both the Donbas and north-east
Estonia is Russia itself. However, it cannotbe assumedeither that diasporacommuni-
ties automatically see themselves as irridentaof a larger 'homeland', the core of
which is the Russian Federation,or that Russia will be automaticallysupportiveof
collective action by the diaspora.58The mannerin which the diasporaconceives of the
homeland and the natureof homeland policy towards the diasporaare both likely to
vary across space and time. Moreover, it should not be assumed that the role played
by the ethnic patronis solely determinedby machinationsin the former metropol-
that is, by the persistence of some form of 'imperial' mentality, a failure to be
reconciled to the loss of territoriesthat were never even conceptualisedas 'colonial'.
Often it is the former colonists who make peaceful disengagementdifficult, in virtue
of theirlobbying efforts in the formermetropolitancapital and the moral,political and
ideological pressure they exert on the 'homeland' authorities.59
In terms of the conceptualisationof 'homeland',the Russian diasporais in a unique
historical position, somewhere between Germansin inter-warPoland, for whom the
Reichs-heimat(WeimarGermany)was still largely intact, and their counterpartsin the
Sudetenland,who were disorientedby the loss of their parent(Habsburg)state and by
the appearanceof a would-be successor compressed into unrecognisableboundaries
(Austria).In other words, it is far from clear that for many Russians in the diaspora

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 RUSSIA'S DIASPORA 859

the Russian Federationis a recognisable 'homeland'. On the other hand, Russians in

the Donbas, like Germans in the Sudetenland, feel that they are an indigenous
population with roots going back hundreds of years, while Russians in north-east
Estonia are conscious that their presence in the region, like that of the Germansin
Pomerania,owes as much to the migrationpolicy of the formerempire. Otherthings
being equal, the diaspora in north-eastEstonia is therefore more likely to develop
secessionist strategies, while the logic of diaspora politics in the Donbas points
towards the restoration of some kind of overarching unity between Russia and
Ukraine.
Russia's influence over the diaspora is likely to operate on three main levels.
Firstly, there is the way in which Russia can utilise geopolitical levers as political
resourcesin orderto secure its interestsin 'Near Abroad' countrieslike Ukraine and
Estonia that are considered by Moscow as legitimate spheres of Russian influence.
With the 'nationalisation'of Soviet armed forces in Ukraine in 1991-92 and the
completion of the withdrawal of Russian troops from Estonia in August 1994,
Moscow's capacity for direct military pressure over the diaspora issue is limited,
althoughcontrol over the Black Sea fleet provides Russia with considerableleverage
over Ukraine in general if not over the Donbas in particular,and considerabletroop
concentrationsremainon the bordersof both states. Indeed,in Estonia there is a sense
amongstelements of the diasporathat Moscow has abandonedthem, and that it could
have done more in linking negotiated troop withdrawal to its declared aim of
rectifying 'human rights abuses'.
Partlyas a consequence, Moscow has recently steppedup its criticism of Estonia's
policy towardsthe diasporaand has continuedto threatenthe republic with a variety
of economic sanctions, including trade embargoes, imposing punitive tariffs and
charging world market prices for energy and other commodities. Its room for
economic leverage, however, has been much weakened by Estonia's rapid success in
reorienting its economy away from the east. In contrast to 1991, when 45.9% of
Estonian import and 56.5% of export trade was with Russia, by 1995 this had
declined to 16.2% and 18.0% respectively, althoughEstonia is still highly dependent
on its easternneighbourfor energy supplies.60In contrast,Ukraineremainslopsidedly
dependenton the Russian marketand on Russian sources of energy supply. In 1995
45% of Ukraine'stotal export tradewas still with Russia and 52% of its importtrade.
Ukrainestill has to importsome 90% of its oil and 80% of its gas, nearly all of which
comes from Russia (or Turkmenistan),and its unpaid energy bills are rising by
between $1 billion and $1.5 billion a year. On the other hand, it is far from clear that
Russia can convert economic dependence into political leverage, especially as some
110 billion cubic metres of Russiangas pass westwardsannuallythroughthe Druzhba
pipeline that runs across Ukrainianterritory.61
Secondly, there is the type and scale of institutional and financial support that
Russia is willing and able to provide the diaspora.Russia's policy of extra-territorial
citizenship allows members of the diaspora, wherever they reside, to become
membersof the Russian polity, and Russia has continuedto press for dual citizenship
arrangements,despite the firm opposition of both Estonia and Ukraine. In Estonia
some 90 000 ethnic Russianshad taken out Russiancitizenshipby April 1996, mostly
in the north-east,62althoughproportionatelyfar fewer (around20 000) had done so in

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860 GRAHAM SMITH & ANDREW WILSON

Ukraine.63In addition, Russia has also provided financial support for its diasporic
citizens throughthe Rossiyane (Russian Citizens) Fund, set up by El'tsin's presiden-
tial decree in April 1996. Its aims, however, remain vague, the funds allocated are
intendedfor 'humanitarianprogrammes,including legal, economic and socio-cultural
undertakings',and the sums involved are limited.64
Finally, there is the role played by nationalistorganisationsbased in the homeland
and their support-basedlinkages to the Donbas and to north-eastEstonia. Usually,
nationalistorganisationsof the sort found in Russia are able to draw upon a diasporic
exodus to swell their ranks and ensure that diasporic concerns remain at the top of
their and the government's list of priorities,as in Serbia in 1990-95, or in post-war
West Germany, where the Block of Expellees won 5.9% of the vote in the 1953
federal elections and was for a time an influential component of Adenauer's
government.In the case of both Ukraineand Estonia, however, emigrationback to the
'homeland'has been limited to date. Only 65 813 Russians left Estonia between 1989
and 1995, while only 14 251 left Ukraine in 1989-93 (some two million left Central
Asia between 1991 and 1994, but have yet to form their own political organisations
in Russia).65Direct supportfor diasporic issues is thereforeconcentratedin Ukraine
and Estonia. In Estonia Russian citizens voting in Russia's December 1995 Duma
elections favoured the communists (30.5%), ratherthan the parties of the right.66In
Ukraine, numbersvoting were insignificant,but the UkrainianCommunistParty has
always had close links with its Russian counterpart.In Estonia, however, there was
also considerablesupportfor the two main nationalistorganisations,the Congress of
Russian Communities or KRO (22.1%) and Zhirinovsky's Liberal Democrats
(8.6%).67As 'shadowy organisations',it is of course difficult to gauge the natureand
extent of their contacts with the diaspora,although there is no doubt that both have
links with the Narva branch of the Union of Russian Citizens, as well as with the
Council of Compatriotsof the Russian Duma.68
In Ukraine four members of the same Duma council (Sovet Sootechestvennikov)
were elected to the council of the Congress of Russian Communitiesin March 1996.
KRO has expressed supportfor the Civic Congress of Ukraine.69However, in general
the effectiveness of Russian nationalist organisations in both the Donbas and in
north-eastEstonia has been limited. Only in Crimea have they been able to set up
direct affiliates (a branch of the National Salvation Front operatedin Sevastopil' in
1993, Zhirinovsky's LDP supportedthe Russian Party of Crimea in 1993-94, the
Russian Society of Sevastopil' has a variety of nationalistlinks). Russian nationalist
groups have neither the organisationalreach nor the financial resources to influence
politics beyond their national borders. Significantly, to date most diasporic groups
have preferred the generalised nostalgia of the Communist Party for a vanished
territorialstatus quo to the potential irredentismof the Russian right.

Conclusions
The frequency, intensity, scale and nature of collective action amongst the diaspora
in Ukraineand Estoniahave been shapedboth by differing opportunitystructuresand
by the natureof available collective resources. The political opportunitystructureis
relatively open in Ukraine, whereas in Estonia citizenship policy has imposed limits

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 RUSSIA'S DIASPORA 861

on the political activities of the diaspora. However, collective action is still possible
at the urban-municipal level, and such half-opened access combined with the slow but
steady growth in the number of diasporic citizens who are able to participate in the
national electoral process may well stimulate further opportunities for mobilisation.
The nature of the resources available for mobilisation in both states has tended to
mean that collective action by diasporic groups in protest against 'nationalising'
policies in the Donbas and north-east Estonia has been less frequent and less intense
than might otherwise have been expected, although, as we have discussed, for
different reasons in the two localities. The key resource necessary for mobilisation, a
strong sense of communal boundedness, is more weakly developed than is often
presumed, particularly amongst the more fragmented diaspora of the Donbas. In
contrast, the more clear-cut sense of diasporic identity and sense of alienation from
the citizen-polity that exists in north-east Estonia has a greater potential to generate
a politics of irredentism. However, although local parties and political organisations
in the Donbas are stronger than in north-east Estonia, in both localities an influential
diasporic intelligentsia able and willing to promote identity formation and group
action is lacking. Consequently, we cannot therefore presume that, even if economic
conditions deteriorate further in both regions, this will necessarily trigger off an
irredentist nationalism.
For their part, the Russian state and nationalist organisations in the Russian
Federation have yet to emerge as decisive agents in either region. Nostalgia for the
Communist Party was again demonstrated in the June 1996 presidential election, with
Gennadii Zyuganov receiving a much higher vote amongst the diaspora in both
localities than his overall 40.4% in the second round; 76.4% in north-east Estonia
against 20.8% for Boris El'tsin.70 Consequently, the defeat of the Communist Party
in Russia has left the diaspora with an ethnic patron whose willingness to intervene
still remains uncertain.

Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge

The research upon which this article is based forms part of a larger research programme on the
Post-Soviet States in Transition, funded by the Leverhulme Trust and Sidney Sussex College,
Cambridge. The authors wish to thank both the Trust and the College for their generous support.
1 Recent works on the diaspora include Vladimir Shlapentokh, Munir Sendich & Emil Payin
(eds), The New Russian Diaspora. Russian Minorities in the Former Soviet Republics (New York,
1994); Paul Kolstoe, Russians in the Former Soviet Republics (London, 1995); Neil Melvin, Russians
Beyond Russia: The Politics of National Identity (London, 1995); Jeff Chinn & Robert Kaiser,
Russians as The New Minority. Ethnicity and Nationalism in the Soviet Successor States (Boulder,
Co, 1996); Aadne Aasland, 'Russians outside Russia: the new Russian diaspora', in Graham Smith
(ed.), The Nationalities Question in the Post-Soviet States (London, 1996), pp. 477-497.
2
Natsional'nyi sostav naseleniya SSSR (Moscow, 1991); Yu. Arutyunyan et al., Russkie.
Etnosotsiologicheskie ocherki (Moscow, 1992), p. 52.
3
Alan Scott, Ideology and the New Social Movements (London, 1990), pp. 121-123.
4
Rogers Brubaker, Nationalism Reframed. Nationhood and the National Question in the New
Europe (Cambridge, 1996).
5 Douglas McAdam, John McCarthy & Mayer Zald, Comparative Perspectives on Social
Movements. Political Opportunities, Mobilising Structures and Cultural Framings (Cambridge,
1996); Alan Morris & Carol Mueller (eds), Frontiers in Social Movement Theory (New Haven, 1992);
Hudson Meadwell, 'Ethnic Nationalism and Collective Choice Theory', Comparative Political
Studies, 22, 2, July 1989, pp. 139-154; Dieter Rucht (ed.), Research on social movements (Frankfurt
and Boulder, 1991); R. Kreisi, J. Koopmans, J. Dyvendak & M. Giugni (eds), New Social Movements

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862 GRAHAM SMITH & ANDREW WILSON

in Western Europe. A Comparative Analysis (London, 1995); Sidney Tarrow, Power in Movement.
Social Movements, Collective Action and Politics (Cambridge, 1994).
6 The Donbas region consists of the modem oblasti of Donets'k and Luhans'k, north-east
Estonia that of the Ida-Viru district. Other diasporic communities can be considered within the
context of the above propositions, notably the Trans-Dniester region in Moldova and northern
Kazakhstan. While the former is an exceptional case (see note 36), much of the following discussion
has relevance to the latter, which forms part of a larger comparative project by the authors.
7 Eesti
Vabariigi maakondade, Linnarde ja alevite rahvastik 1989I. Statistika Kogumik
(Tallinn, 1990), pp. 27-36.
8 In this article we have therefore tended to refer to 'ethnic Russians' when talking about

Estonia, as the difference between ethnic Russians and Russophones is not great. In Ukraine, by
contrast, we have tended to maintain the distinction, referring to ethnic Russians and/or Russophones
as the confusion of identities is all-important.
9 Ted Robert Gurr, Minorities at Risk. A Global View of Ethnopolitical Conflicts (Washington,
DC, 1993), p. 21.
10 Andrew Wilson, 'The Donbas between Ukraine and Russia: The Use of History in Political
Disputes', Journal of Contemporary History, 30, 2, April 1995, pp. 265-289.
11 et al..
12
Arutyunyan
According to the 1989 Soviet census, which asked individuals to name their 'mother tongue'
(ridna mova or rodnoi yazyk), 4.6 million Ukrainians and one million others chose Russian. However,
when asked in later surveys about 'language of preference', some 15 to 16 million Ukrainians chose
Russian. The total number of Russophones would therefore be 27-28 million, slightly over half the
total population; Valerii Khmel'ko, 'Dva berehy-dva sposoby zhyttya', Demoz, 1995, 1, pp. 17-20.
3
Grazhdanskii kongress, 1994, 2.
14 In a 'consultative
poll' held in March 1994, 80% of Donets'k voters backed the idea of a
federal Ukraine, 87% agreed that Russian should become a second state language in Ukraine (90.4%
in Luhans'k) and 89% that it should be the local 'language of education, science and administration'
(90.9% in Luhans'k). Finally, 88.7% supported Ukraine's full membership of the proposed CIS
Economic Union (90.7% in Luhans'k); Aktsent, 1 April 1994. In a 'referendum' in north-east Estonia
organised by the town councils of Narva and Sillamae on 16-17 July 1993, the proportion of residents
voting for 'regional political autonomy' was 98.6% and 60% respectively although voter turnout was
low. The poll was held despite being declared unconstitutional by the Estonian state; The Baltic
Independent, 4, 171, 23-29 July 1993, p. 1.
15
Tarrow, Power ..., and also his chapter, 'States and opportunities: the political structuring of
social movements', in McAdam, McCarthy & Zald, pp. 41-61.
16
Tarrow, Power ..., p. 85.
17
McAdam et al., p. 27.
18 The Law on the Election of Presidents states that the president must use (volodiye) the

Ukrainian language, but this was no restriction on the Russophone Leonid Kuchma becoming
president (he has learnt Ukrainian); Holos Ukraihy, 27 July 1991. Despite nationalist pressure, no
such requirement exists for parliamentary deputies.
19 Unlike the Donbas, Crimea enjoys a 'republican' structure of local government, which has
been a key factor in further empowering local elites.
20 Andrew Wilson, 'The
Growing Challenge to Kiev from the Donbas', RFE/RL Research
Report, 2, 33, 20 August 1993; Tat'yana Bolbat, Vladimir Lykov & Elena Khalimova, Politicheskie
partii, obshchestvennye organizatsii i dvizheniya Donetskoi oblasti, 2nd edn (Donets'k, 1994).
21 Valeri Khmelko &
Dominique Arel, 'The Russian Factor and Territorial Polarization in
Ukraine', Harriman Institute Review, special issue on 'Peoples, Nations, Identities: the Ukrainian-
Russian Encounter', March 1996.
Dmytro Dzhanhirov, 'Donets'k i Dnipropetrovs'k u borot'bi za KyYv', UNIAN, 5 October
22

1994.
23
See Graham Smith, 'The ethnic democracy thesis and the citizenship question in Estonia and
Latvia', Nationalities Papers, 24, 2, 1996, pp. 199-216; and Graham Smith, Aadne Aasland &
Richard Mole, 'Statehood, Ethnic Relations and Citizenship', in Graham Smith (ed.), The Baltic
States. The National Self-Determination of Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania (London, 1994), pp. 181-
205.
24 Richard Rose & William
Maley, 'Nationalities in the Baltic States. A Survey Study', Public
Policy Paper, no. 222, University of Strathclyde, Glasgow, 1994.
5 In October 1994; information provided by Estonia's Central Government Statistical Office,
Tallinn.
26
Smith (ed.), The Nationalities Question ....

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 RUSSIA'S DIASPORA 863

27 Tarrow, Power ..., p. 86.

28 Andrus
Park, 'Ethnicity and Independence. The Case of Estonia in Comparative Perspective',
Europe-Asia Studies, 46, 1, 1994, pp. 69-87.
9Postimees, 23 April 1996.
30 J. Ishiyama, 'Founding Elections and the Development of Transitional Parties. Estonia and
Latvia, 1990-92', Communist and Post-Communist Studies, 26, 3, 1993, pp. 277-299.
31 Andrus Park, 'Explaining Estonian Citizenship Policy', Humanitaat Ja Sotsiaalteadused

(Eesti Teaduste Akadeemia Toimetised), 44, 3, 1995, p. 360.

32 Tartu Ulikooli Turu-uurimisruhm, Kirde-Eesti Linnaelanike Suhtumine Reformidesse Ja
Sotsialpolitikasse (Tartu, 1996).
33 The 1993 aliens law
gave all non-citizens who arrived in Estonia before 1 July 1990 two years
to register or apply for citizenship. The fear amongst many non-citizens was that if they did not
register, they would have to leave Estonia.
34 With
regard to the proposed 1993 aliens law, see The Letter to Meri from the then CSCE
(later renamed OSCE) High Commissioner, Max van der Stoel, Tallinn, 1 July 1993, and The
Statement issued by van der Stoel on National Minorities, Tallinn, 12 July 1993.
35 Tarrow, Power ..., p. 14.
36
Key differences between Ukraine, Estonia and Trans-Dniester include the elite leadership
provided by the seventh army and the left bank's predominant role in administering the Moldavian
SSR until the 1980s, the dense social networks amongst the military industry on the left bank and the
stimulus to counter-mobilisation provided by the Romania Mare movement. See also Jonathan Eyal
& Graham Smith, 'Moldova and the Moldovans', in Smith (ed.), The Nationalities Question ....
pp. 223-244, and P. Kolsto, A. Edemsky & N. Kalashnikova, 'The Dniester Conflict. Between
Irredentism and Separatism', Europe-Asia Studies, 45, 6, 1993, pp. 973-1000.
37
Joseph Rothschild, Ethnopolitics. A Conceptual Framework (Cambridge, MA, 1981).
38 John
McCarthy, Jackie Smith & Mayer Zald, 'Accessing public, media, electoral, and
governmental agencies,' in McAdam, McCarthy & Zald (1996), op. cit., pp. 291-311.
39 Dmitrii Korilov,
'Federatsiya-de-fakto. A de-yure?', Donetskii kryazh, 25 June-1 July
1993.
40 As shown in the table below, Ukrainians and Russians occupy roughly similar positions
within the social structureof the two Donbas oblasti. The predominance of workers in heavy industry
and mining marks off the Donbas from the outside world, but it is not perceived as a primarily ethnic
phenomenon.

OCCUPATION BY ETHNIC GROUP IN THE DONBAS. 1989 (%)

Workers White-collar Collectivefarmers

(robitnyky) (sluzhbovtsi) (kolhospnyky)

(a) Donets'k
Ukrainian 69.8 23.2 6.9
Russian 70.9 26.8 2.2
(b) Luhans'k
Ukrainian 69.2 22.0 8.7
Russian 71.8 25.7 2.4

Source: F. D. Zastavnyi,Heohrafiya Ukrainy(L'viv, 1994), p. 181.

41
Grigori Nemiria, 'Les elites regionales ukrainiennes et la consolidation de l'Etat', in Roberte
Berton-Hogge & Marie-Agne's Crosnier (eds), Ukraine, Bielorussie, Russie. Trois Etats en construc-
tion (Paris, La Documentation francaise, ex-URSS ddition, 1995), pp. 24-36, at p. 26. Respondents
were asked to chose up to three factors from a list of 17.
42 See for
example, Politychnyi portret Ukrainy (Kiev, Democratic Initiative), 1994, 4.
43 Ukrainian Economic Trends, January 1996, p. 26; Andrew Wilson & Igor Burakovsky, The
Ukrainian Economy Under Kuchma (London, 1996).
44 Khmelko & Arel.
45 See Andrew Wilson, Ukrainian Nationalism in the 1990s: A
Minority Faith (Cambridge,
1997) for an examination of this subject in detail.
46 Anatolii Rusnachenko, Probuzhennya: robitnychnyi rukh na Ukraini v 1989-1993 r., 2
volumes (Kiev, 1995).

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864 GRAHAM SMITH & ANDREW WILSON

47 Sources: Liberal'na partiya Ukrainy v tsyfrakh (Kiev, 1996), p. 10, as of January 1996;
Secretariat of CPU, as of June 1995.
48 Even on Ukrainian
language TV it is still acceptable to speak Russian; programmes and
interviews often chop and change between the two.
49 Holos
Ukrainy, 2 November 1994. Only 27.4% of 'all papers' at the national level and 46.8%
at the local level were Ukrainian-language only; 12.7% of national and 28.9% of local papers were
Russian-language; the rest were mixed or published in some third language.
50 Thomas Lines, Media Monitoring in Ukrainian Parliamentary Elections (March 1994)-
Donets'k and Kharkiv Regions (Diisseldorf, European Institute for the Media, 1994), pp. 5-7. See
also A. Chemyavs'kyi & O. Voloshenyuk (eds), Mas-media Ukrainy (Kiev, 1995).
51 Eesti
Paevaleht, 13 March 1996.
52
Baltic News Service (BNS), 3 April 1996.
53
See the results from the following opinion poll surveys of the Russian communities: Smith,
Aasland & Mole, pp. 181-205; Tartu Ulikooli Turu-uurimiscuhm; Axel Kirch & Maria Kirch,
'Search for security in Estonia: New Identity Architecture', Security Dialogue, 26, 4, 1996, pp. 439-
449; Rose & Maley.
54
See, in particular Rose & Maley; and Smith, Aasland & Mole, pp. 181-205.
55 It is
important to note that in comparison with the north-east, the relatively well-integrated
Russian community in Tallinn possesses a small but nonetheless vocal cultural intelligentsia who
have formed the bedrock of the more moderate Russian political parties.
56
Pohjarannik, 2 May 1996.
57
According to a November 1995 survey, 45% of Russians read Molodezh' Estonii, making it
by far the most popular of only a small handful of diasporic papers published in Estonia. Newspapers
published in Russia are readily available throughout Estonia but tend to be read by only a small
proportion of Russian speakers. See Tsentr Issledovanii Russkikh Men'shinstv v Stranakh Blizhnego
Zarubezh'ya, Russkie v Estonii (Moscow, 1995), p. 16.
58 Igor Zevelev, 'Russia and the Russian Diasporas', Post-Soviet Affairs, 12, 3, 1996, pp. 265-
284 emphasises the latter but not the former.
59 Ian
Lustick, State-Building Failure in British Ireland and French Algeria (Berkeley, 1985).
60 Economist
Intelligence Unit, Country Report for the Baltic Republics: Estonia, Latvia and
Lithuania (Fourth Quarter, 1995), p. 4.
61 Wilson &
62 Burakovsky, pp. 33-36.
BNS, 3 April 1996.
63
As Russians in the Donbas think of themselves as indigenes and all were granted Ukrainian
citizenship in October 1991, incentives to take up Russian citizenship have been minimal. Russians
are more likely to press for Ukrainian/Russian rapprochementthan to take the 'exit' option of foreign
citizenship.
64
Pravda, 15 April 1996.
65 Postimees, 30 October 1995; Chinn & Kaiser, pp. 95, 131, 187 and 209; Delovoi mir, 2
December 1995.
66 Segodnya, 19 December 1995.
67
Ibid.
The Baltic Times, 9, 16-22 May 1996, pp. 1 and 8.
68
'Uchreditel'nogo s"ezda Kongressa Russkikh Organizatsii Ukrainy i 6-go s"ezda partii
69
Grazhdanskii Kongress Ukrainy', Information Bulletin of the press-service of the Civic Congress of
Ukraine, 16-17 March 1996.
70 BNS, 3 July 1996. On the other hand, Ukraine's much smaller number of Russian citizens,
many of whom are employees of the Russian state, backed El'tsin; for example 1420 out of 2099
(68%) in Simferopil', and 1503 out of 1978 (76%) in Kiev: UNIAN, 4 July 1996.

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