Scholars are often advised to use the transliterations most predominant in English, as these are most recognisable to the majority of readers. Yet such a language policy often leads to inconsistencies, and readers asking why some proper nouns are based on the Russian forms while others are not. As far as I can see, there are only two solutions to this problem. Either the scholar consistently and exclusively transliterates from the relevant Russian forms; or, conversely, they transliterate all proper nouns from the local languages. The former solution is often used because it is more consistent with the predominant name forms in English. (Another reason might be that most scholars within the field have a level of proficiency in Russian, but limited knowledge of the other two languages). The choice of Russian could additionally be justified by the large prevalence of Russophone speakers in all three countries. Although there is a precedent for the former solution in East Slavic area studies, the latter is not unheard-of, and scholars such as the Canadian historian David R. Marples (2004) and the British political scientist Taras Kuzio (2005) use the national variants of proper nouns.
I have chosen the latter option. Thus, the transliterations of proper nouns found in this book reflect their national origins. The reader will also encounter proper nouns that are less frequently used, such as Kyiv and Lukashenka (rather than Kiev and Lukashenko). However, I have retained the familiar variants of some terms and proper nouns in order to avoid confusion (e.g. Kievan Rus’, not Kievskaia Rus’ from Rus. Киевская Русь; or Kyivs’ka Rus’ from Ukr. Київська Русь).
I have used the ALA-LC Romanisation tables from The Library of Congress for all Ukrainian, Belarusian, and Russian words, with some exceptions. I have avoided confusing typographic ligatures and diacritical marks, such as i͡e for the Russian е; and ï for the Ukrainian ї. Similarly, I have kept some internationally recognised variants that are too omnipresent to change: for example, the former Russian president is Boris Yeltsin rather than Ieltsin (or, with ligatures, I͡Elt͡sin).
To complicate the matter further, in Belarus, there are three written languages: Russian and Belarusian, both of which are official languages, and the classic Belarusian Tarashkevitsa. The name of the president could be transliterated as Aleksandr Lukashenko (Russian); Aliaksandr Lukashenka (Belarusian); and Aliaksandar Lukashenka (Belarusian Tarashkevitsa). I use the official Belarusian (Aliaksandr) for proper nouns. Please note that the Belarusian letter ў is transliterated as w, not u.
For consistency’s sake, I use the translated forms of place names in this book (i.e. October Square, not Kastrychnitskaia). A notable exception is Maidan (Ukr.: square), which is used both instead of the longer original (Maidan Nezalezhnosti) and the translation (Independence Square), the reason being that Maidan has become a widely recognised word in the West, even among non-Slavists.
All translations are my own unless stated otherwise.
Foreword
What impact does the physical space in which protesters raise their grievances have on their success or failure in achieving their goals? This is the intriguing question that Arve Hansen raises, and to which this book provides a theoretically, methodologically, and empirically sophisticated answer. It elaborates a theoretical model to explore the causal connections between urban public space and mass protests. As such, it is not only a valuable but also a major contribution to the growing research on mass protests and urban space.
This book also presents and analyses three of the most acute cases of urban protest today, namely those of Kyiv, Minsk, and Moscow. The combination of thematic focus and empirical case studies can, therefore, hardly be more timely. A wave of protest movements is rolling across what we refer to as the ‘former Soviet space’. Judging by recent events, it is not going to stop any time soon; even in Russia, where enormous and costly efforts have been made to create ‘stability’ under President Putin. The intense, at times highly simplistic public debate around these events makes this distinctly scholarly contribution particularly welcome. The book gives us details and specifics about the very different social and physical spaces of Kyiv, Minsk, and Moscow, despite their common Soviet heritage.
This analysis is built on the results of the author’s extensive field work: interviews as well as personal observations, all based in Hansen’s thorough knowledge of all three East Slavic languages and cultures and his experience of living in Belarus, Russia, and Ukraine. Careful attention is paid to the history and symbolic value of the urban spaces under analysis. The meticulous circuit of observing, noting, mapping, and interviewing is particularly commendable, resulting as it does in clear visual and textual presentations of the protest spaces in Kyiv, Minsk, and Moscow.
Hansen’s approach to the theoretical debate on protest, and the core terms within it, is also nuanced and attentive to detail. He crafts his definitions of mass protest and urban public space, as well as his theoretical model, using the cases at hand and in close consultation with the extant literature. The outcome is an excellent piece of academic handiwork. The process of developing the theoretical model over time, guided by empirical findings in the individual case studies, is presented clearly and well. Reading this book will prove highly instructive for students who wish to learn how to combine in-depth empirical work with theory development.
Examining the theoretical debate on protest, Hansen identifies a lack of attention in the literature to the connection between space and protest. Rightly pointing out the dangers of geographical determinism, he sets himself the ambitious aim of providing the systematic and generalised approach to space and protest that is missing. A comprehensive explanation of urban protest will have to include a wider set of social variables beyond those investigated in this book, which is clearly part of a broader, evolving research agenda under development. However, by the end of the book, Hansen has convincingly demonstrated the importance of geographical space and how it contributes to the emergence, realisation, and impact of protests. The spatial perspective also promises a fruitful application to cases beyond the former Soviet space.
Julie Wilhelmsen
Senior Research FellowNorwegian Institute of International Affairs
Preface
This book is based on my doctoral thesis, Mass Protests from a Spatial Perspective: Discontent and Urban Public Space in Kyiv, Minsk, and Moscow (Hansen 2020), which I defended and published in March 2020 at UiT: the Arctic University of Norway.
The question that spurred me to write my thesis—and, subsequently, this book—was how mass protests are affected by urban public space.
Based on field work in Eastern Europe spanning several years and interviews with demonstrators, protest organisers, and observers, I gradually developed an approach to assess the enabling and constraining effects of urban public spaces on public protest. I call this model the spatial perspective on mass protests; or the spatial perspective, for short.
The model was tested and refined by looking closely at three case studies, each of which served as the basis for an academic article. These case studies investigate protest spaces in three different cities—Kyiv, Minsk, and Moscow—and reflect three stages in the development of the spatial perspective. My thesis originally consisted of the three articles mentioned here, framed by seven introductory chapters.
The main difference between the thesis and the book you are now reading is that the three articles have here been integrated as chapters in their own right, for improved readability.
In addition, feedback from the doctoral committee