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Author(s): K. E. Fleming
Source: The American Historical Review, Vol. 105, No. 4 (Oct., 2000), pp. 1218-1233
Published by: The University of Chicago Press on behalf of the American Historical Association
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Review Essays
Orientalism, the Balkans, and Balkan Historiography
K. E. FLEMING
TINTIN, the comic strip Belgian boy detective, has many exciting international
adventures. He busts up an opium ring in Egypt, he frees a gorilla from a Scottish
castle, he discovers the Yeti in Tibet, he flies to the moon. But even with so fantastic
an agenda, only once does he manage to travel to a thoroughly imaginaryplace. In
King Ottokar'sSceptre, Tintin finds himself in southeastern Europe in the fictive
"Syldavia," next to the similarly invented "Borduria," at war with anarchists,
corrupt military police, mustachioed fez-wearing bandits, and all manner of
narghile-smoking Balkan buffoons.
The apparent absurd confusion of Balkan history is lampooned in Herge's faux
chronicle of Syldavia, which Tintin eagerly reads as he flies in over the mountains:
"In 1275 the people of Syldavia rose against the Bordurians, and in 1277 the
revolutionary leader, Baron Almaszout, was proclaimed King. He adopted the title
of Ottokar the First, but should not be confused with Premysl Ottokar the First, the
duke who became King of Bohemia in the XII century."1Even in being introduced
to the material, one is intimidated and perplexed. If all of these people have the
same name, one might wonder, what's the point in trying to figure out what's going
on? Politics, too, is inscrutable. In its contemporary political unrest, Syldavia bears
a striking resemblance to another fictional land, "Herzoslovakia," the Balkan
homeland of Agatha Christie's villainous Boris Anchoukoff in The Secret of
Chimneys, a land, by Christie's account, of violence, brigandry, and mystery, a
country where the national "hobby" is "assassinating kings and having revolu-
tions."2
Syldavia and Herzoslovakia, then, are sort of Balkan "everycountries,"compos-
ites (both in name and character) based on several assumptions: that Balkan
countries are more or less interchangeable with and indistinguishable from one
another, that there is a readily identifiable typology of politics and history common
throughout the Balkans, that there is such a thing as a Balkan ethnic or racial
"type."3 Yet even as Herge and Christie assume that they know something
fundamental about the Balkans-indeed, that they know the Balkans so well that
I Herge [Georges Remi], King Ottokar'sSceptre,Leslie Lonsdale-Cooper and Michael Turner, trans.
(Boston, 1976), 7.
2 Agatha Christie, The Secret of Chimneys (1925; New York, 1975), 105.
3A similar observation has recently been made in the case of Eastern Europe. Of Bulgaria,
Wallachia, and Hungary, Larry Wolff points out that in many chronicles "the issue of adjacency, by
which the neighboring lands of Eastern Europe were associated, was dramatized to suggest a sort of
1218
Orientalism, the Balkans, and Balkan Historiography 1219
geographical destiny." Wolff, Inventing Eastern Europe: The Map of Civilization on the Mind of the
Enlightenment(Stanford, Calif., 1994), 185.
4 Quoted in Maria Todorova, Imagining the Balkans (New York, 1997), 116.
5Quoted in The South Slav Conflict:Histoty,Religion,Ethnicity,and Nationalism, Raju G. C. Thomas
and H. Richard Friman, eds. (New York, 1996), 253.
are concerned with natural resources and economic exploitation, the Balkan
colonizer, by Goldsworthy's argument, has typically sought other, but no less
lucrative, foreign sources of revenue-cultural and economic-through the "impe-
rialism of the imagination." Of her work, Goldsworthy writes that it "seeks to
explore the way in which one of the world's most powerful nations [Britain]
exploited the resources of the Balkans to supply its literary and entertainment
industries."7 What exactly those "resources" are is unclear (plot lines? stage
settings?), but to Goldsworthy's mind they have brought as much lucre as minerals
or oil. The production of fictional literatures set in the Balkans, featuring Balkan
protagonists, or otherwise concerned with southeastern Europe, according to
Goldsworthy, was a means whereby the British "secure[d] their stakes as surely as
European colonists secured newly surveyed parcels of land in America, Australia,
or New Zealand."8The premise is valid, but the claim is ultimately a bit overblown.
To view the relationship between Western Europe and the Balkans as homolo-
gous to colonialism is an approach that, if used with reason (and if historicized), has
validity and can be fruitful. In the case of eighteenth and nineteenth-century
Greece, the argument for the link between European philhellenism and some sort
of metaphoric or pseudo-imperialism has been voiced by a number of scholars. Olga
Augustinos has demonstrated that Greek travel literature of the period is directly
tied to Europe's claim on the ancient Greek past and shows that this claim "made
[Greece] seem closer to the West" and somehow under its control.9Artemis Leontis
notes that, while the "Greeks, former subjects of a powerful Eastern Empire, may
be said to have gained the status of modern independent nation-state without
having passed through administrative colonialization by the West," it nevertheless
"could be argued that modern Greece endured a 'colonialization of the mind,' given
that its system of education was imported directly from Germany."10I myself have
argued elsewhere that in the case of Greece the mechanisms of romantic philhel-
lenism and the cultivation of the belief in Greece as the fount of Western
civilization functioned as the underpinnings for a sort of "surrogate"colonialism,
whereby Greece was brought into the intellectual and cultural penumbra of the
West, particularly Britain and France.1"
The concept of metaphoric colonialism as a tool for interpretation is useful to an
extent, but its very development points immediately to the manifest difficulty of
loosing the Saidian critique from its explicitly Western imperialist moorings. The
frequency with which arguments for a "metaphoric" colonialism have been made
may demonstrate the rich symbolic possibilities of one specific political/economic
system, but it also is symptomatic of the fundamentally problematic task of grafting
Said onto settings that do not share the particular colonial circumstances of, say,
Napoleonic Egypt. In this regard, the Balkan instance throws some significant
7Vesna Goldsworthy,InventingRuriitania:The Imperialismof the Imagination (New Haven, Conn.,
1998), 2.
8 Goldsworthy,InventingRiuritania,2-3.
9 Olga Augustinos, French Odysseys:Greece in French TravelLiteraturefrom the Renaissance to the
Romantic Era (Baltimore, Md., 1994), ix.
10Artemis Leontis, Topographiesof Hellenism:Mappingthe Homeland (Ithaca, N.Y., 1995), 68, 68 n.
2.
11K. E. Fleming, TheMuslim Bonaparte:Diplomacyand Orienttalisme in Ali Pasha's Greece (Princeton,
N.J., 1999), 151-52.
roadblocks in the path of those who would import wholesale a Saidian critique.
Quite simply, the territories of the Balkans have had a very different history from
those with which Said's Orientalismis concerned. The political development of the
Balkans, especially as it has been influenced by external powers, has been shaped by
factors unlike those at play in the Orient of Orientalism.
That Said wedded his interdisciplinarity to a specific group of historical taxons
(which include but cannot be reduced to colonialism, imperialism, and the interplay
of political and academic power) has made it easier for certain fields to flourish in
the post-Orientalismclimate than for others. The premises on which Orientalismis
based are grafted far more easily onto the terrain of Southeast Asia than of
southeastern Europe. Where is one to place Serbia, for instance, in the Saidian
formulation? Greece, with its peculiar cultural relationship to the West, provides a
still more categorically perplexing example.
The Balkans make up a part of the "old" model of empire, the late medieval,
precolonial empires of the Ottomans and the Habsburgs, both of which followed,
more or less explicitly, the imperial model of Rome. They are not part of Said's
imperialism, an imperialism that, whatever his intentions, appears basically to be
one of East versus West, European versus Oriental, an imperialism fairly bereft of
syncretism.12 Certainly, this interpretation is the one that has dominated the
academic reception of Orientalism,13and thus the question of Said's original
meaning or intentionality, as Said himself admits, is no longer necessarily central to
what is meant when people invoke "Orientalism."'14 The imperial mechanisms at
work in the encounter between, for example, the Ottoman Turks and the Greeks of
the South Balkans are dramatically different from those at play in the Napoleonic
encounter of the French and the Egyptians. The Ottoman conquest of the
Balkans-which involved policies of repopulation, a high degree of imperial
collusion with local elites (many of whom were left fully in place), the gradual (but
largely unforced) conversion over the course of generations of entire districts to
Islam, and near constant military campaigns during the late medieval and early
modern periods-shaped the Balkans in such a way that their political and
historical development was markedly different from that of other Ottoman
provincial regions, let alone from the colonies of eighteenth and nineteenth-century
Europe. Four centuries of direct Ottoman rule are not comparable to the historical
circumstances that provide the backbone for Said's argument. Finally, the peculiar
circumstances of imperial rule in the Balkans-its division between the Catholiciz-
WESTERN COLONIALISM, a central component in Said's model, is not the only thing
that must be let go if the model is to be fruitfully applied to the Balkans. Academic
power and the tradition of West European academic literary production about the
Orient also comprise an essential feature of Said's Orientalism. As he explains,
"Orientalism is not only a positive doctrine about the Orient that exists at any one
time in the West; it is also an influential academic tradition (when one refers to an
academic specialist who is called an Orientalist), as well as an area of concern
defined by travelers, commercial enterprises, governments, military expeditions,
readers of novels and accounts of exotic adventure, natural historians, and pilgrims
to whom the Orient is a specific kind of knowledge about specific places, peoples,
and civilizations."18
There is no history or tradition of West European academic interest in the
Balkans that is remotely comparable to the history of Western academic study of
the colonized Orient. Greece, alone among the Balkan territories, has as a region
of study long been a mainstay of the Western academy, a fact that, incidentally,
makes the "metaphoric colonialism" thesis more applicable to Greece than to the
rest of the Balkans. The West's fondness for Greece is intimately connected to the
common tendency to consider Greece not truly "Balkan," at least not in the full
17Milica Baki6-Hayden and Robert M. Hayden, "Orientalist Variations on the Theme 'Balkans':
Symbolic Geography in Recent Yugoslav Cultural Politics," Slavic Review 51 (Spring 1992): 3.
18 Said, Orienitalism, 203.
travel, largely served a similar role as didactic entertainment. While a large portion
of the Orientalist literatures documented by Said fall into these same categories, it
rests in the Saidian instance on the shoulders of a long and respected Orientalist
academic tradition, one concerned with philology, textual analysis, history, and the
study of religion. The West European academic study of Sanskrit,Arabic, Aramaic,
and other Oriental languages and literatures is the single most important precursor
to modern Orientalism as Said defines it.24 In the case of the Balkans, the
relationship between "Balkanism"as a field of study and "Balkanism"as a category
roughly equivalent to Said's "Orientalism" is, if anything, the reverse. The West
European and North American academy, perhaps in response to a century's worth
of depictions of the Balkans as wild, exciting, and filled with mystery and danger, is
only now beginning to hire specialists in Balkan history, language, and culture in
any number. "Balkanism" as a discourse does not rest on an earlier academic
tradition of "Balkanism"for the simple reason that there isn't one.
It is during moments of "crisis"(as in the disintegration of Yugoslavia or during
the conflict in Kosovo) that most scholarly, or semi-scholarly, work on the Balkans
has been written. This has historically been the case, as well. A book on the Balkans
published in 1911 is called TheDanger Zone of Europe: Changesand Problemsin the
Near East. From its introduction, we learn that "history has proved that the Near
East [the Balkans] has been both the scene of and the reason for war after war. For
a variety of reasons this quarter of the universe is still a continual source of danger
to the peace of the world. The Balkan peninsula and Asia Minor may always be the
scene of insurrection or massacre."25There is nothing of inherent intellectual
interest in the region; it is simply prudent to learn about it because its messes might
become ours. The book's author, H. Charles Woods, is, like most writing on the
Balkans today, interested in his subject matter because contemporary conflict has
rendered it "timely."While this is a pragmatic and reasonable approach, it is also
one that has shaped the academic study of the Balkans in a way that makes it
distinct from most other fields.
In both the colonial and the postcolonial periods, then, Western academic
scholarly production on the Balkan countries has been most consistently linked to
the perception of them as dangerous, unstable, a war zone. But here, we must view
the term "academic"with caution, for the vast majorityof such writing is in actuality
produced not by academicians in the strictest sense of the term but rather by Balkan
"experts"whose expertise derives from their experience as journalists, travelers, or
political strategists. This has produced a major bifurcation within the ranks of those
concerned with Balkan history. One group consists of Balkan "specialists" (largely,
if not exclusively, North American and West European), whose work is targeted in
the main at a nonspecialist, non-academic audience and purports to explain and
unravel the intricacies of Balkan history and politics for lay readers. Robert D.
Kaplan's Balkan Ghosts: A Journey through History (1993) is perhaps the most
commercially successful of this genre, but a slew of other recently published books
about the Balkans fit the bill as well. These works vary wildly in quality and utility
24See, for example, Said, Orientalism,136-37.
25H. Charles Woods, The Danger Zone of Europe: Changesand Problems in the Near East (Boston,
1911), 5.
(I hasten to say that some are quite good), but all are drawn together by their
shared interest in addressing newcomers, or at least nonspecialists, whose interest
in the Balkans has been sparked solely by contemporary political events. Within
Western Europe and certainly North America, such extra-academic specialists
outnumber "academic" ones, by which latter I mean those historians, scholars of
literature, political scientists, and the like who hold doctorates in the topic, who are
housed in universities, whose entire careers have been devoted to the field, and
whose interest in it was first sparked by the usual eccentric panoply of factors,
contemporary geopolitics usually not among them. This academic group is small,
not usually focused on current events and, incidentally, for the most part, made up
of individuals who are in many instances of Balkan origin-with the interesting
result that the strictly "academic" study of the Balkans is emerging as a sort of
subaltern, hybrid field, as has also happened in the case of the academic study of
postcolonial South Asia (a topic that deserves further exploration in its own right
but which in this context I can refer to only in passing).
There is thus a two-tier professional study of the Balkans, in which the more
dominant tier consists of those working specifically on the contemporary Balkans
and outside the academy. The less visible tier consists of a tiny group of academics,
who may or may not be interested in contemporary events. There is little contact
between the two, for obvious reasons-they are inter-ested in different questions
and problems, and write for very different audiences. This bifurcation, along with
an array of preexisting factors, has made the field of Balkan studies even smaller
and less visible. For working above, or at least parallel to, academic Balkanists is a
freelance, pseudo-academic (the term is not necessarily pejorative) cottage industry
of "specialists" on the Balkans, whose work gives the impression that Balkanists as
a whole are basically political wonks who are not interested in the broader
theoretical questions that inform other fields of history.
Within the Balkan nations themselves, where there obviously is no great lay or
public demand for Balkan "specialists," the study of Balkan history, literature, and
culture is emerging much more clearly as a field in its own right, one that is in close
touch with, informed by, and in dialogue with theoretical shifts and trends across a
wide spectrum of fields. Not surprisingly, then, coming out of the Balkans are a
number of studies that (like those of Todorova, Bakic-Hayden and Hayden,
Goldsworthy, and a handful of others in this country) strive to bring the study of
southeastern Europe into direct conversation with the theoretical and conceptual
concerns of other fields. In Serbia, for instance, a number of scholars (Ivan Colovic,
for example, or Marko Zivkovic) have devoted considerable time to Said's model.
In Romania, the Revue des EtuidesSud-Est Eutropeenneshas devoted two issues to
theoretical debates stemming from Orientalism.In Greece, the case with which I am
most familiar, a number of scholars are currently directly engaged with post-Saidian
theoretical questions, among them Loukia Droulia, Stathis Gourgouris, Paschalis
Kitromilides, Yiorgos Kokkinos, Joanna Laliotou, Antonis Liakos, and Elli Skope-
tea, to give only a few specific names. Some (Skopetea, for instance) have directed
their attention specifically to the relevance of Said's model to the Balkans, while
others (like Kitromilides) use paradigms that are clearly influenced by Said and his
successors.
This being the state of affairs, it should be manifestly clear that Said's model,
once again, needs some significant modification if it is to be applied to the Balkans.
Said's understanding of Orientalism as a discourse is predicated on the relationship
between Orientalism as an established and "influential" academic field on the one
hand and colonial power on the other. Thus far, as we have seen, there is no such
relationship in the case of the Balkans. In fact, there is neither a history of
"Balkanism" as an established academic field nor of colonialism except of an
"imaginary" or metaphoric sort. Balkanism as an academic field of study has
emerged most potently within the Balkans themselves or as a largely subal-
ternesque, hybrid discipline within North America and Western Europe. As such,
it is a new field and is characterized by its familiarity with Western theoretical
paradigms for study of the "other," as well as by a remarkable agility in using the
instance of the Balkans to challenge, rework, and expand those paradigms. Clearly,
then, "Balkanism" as a discourse must be something quite different from Orien-
talism. Left without an influential and longstanding Western academic tradition of
studying the Balkans and bereft of a framework of literal colonial domination, in
what ways might it still be said that Orientalism can, or should, be used to study
southeastern Europe?
HAVING THROWN OUT THE BATHWATER, as it were, we might look now to see if we
should just throw out the baby, as well. If Orientalisn is rendered of dubious use in
the Balkan instance because of the absence both of West European colonial control
over the Balkans and of a longstanding Western academic tradition of studying the
Balkans, it becomes more beleaguered still when faced with the fact that it is
unclear whether or not the Balkans are in any sense (geographical, cultural, or
discursive) "Oriental" at all. Where the "Orient" begins and where it ends is, of
course, a topic of no small debate, and its resolution has been determined
differently at different historical moments. A map of the "Near East" published in
1911 has as its westernmost point Banjaluka, in Bosnia, and as its easternmost
Konya, in Turkey.26The Near East now has disappeared, or become a chronological
(as in "the ancient Near East") rather than locational marker. We have a West and
a Middle East, even a Far East, but the Near East-or what it used to be-has
become so near that it is no longer the East but the West.
The confusion over what is East and what is West, particularlyas it attaches itself
to the Balkans, is nothing new. In an epistle of the thirteenth century, St. Sava, the
founder of the Serbian Orthodox Church, famously wrote: "At first we were
confused. The East thought we were West, while the West considered us to be East.
Some of us misunderstood our place in this clash of currents, so they cried that we
belong to neither side, and others that we belong exclusively to one side or the
other. But I tell you . .. , we are doomed by fate to be the East on the West, and
the West on the East, to acknowledge only heavenly Jerusalem beyond us, and here
on earth-no one."27Sava's felicitous turn of phrase is echoed in the title of one of
the best recent works of Balkan historiography to grapple with Said's model, Elli
Skopetea's I Dysi tis Anatolis, which can be translated as "The West of the East" or
"The East's West."28
As Skopetea and others suggest, of the various features of Balkan history and
circumstance that invite (and problematize) Saidian modes of investigation,
perhaps most salient is the matter of the location of the Balkans vis-'a-visWestern
Europe, and the changing way in which that location has been represented at
different historical moments. Central, of course, is the relativity of geographical
spaces; the sense of simultanous Balkan distance and proximity, while a constant
feature of Western depictions of the Balkans over at least two centuries, is not a
static frame for investigation. The concepts of "distance" and "proximity"can,
varyingly, be understood to refer to physical, intellectual, cultural, chronological,
political, and moral states. The "intimate estrangement," which by Said's formula-
tion characterizes the West's relationship to the Orient is, in the case of the
Balkans, both heightened and literalized. Even as Europe, through the discursive
mechanisms he so trenchantly and disturbingly identifies, defined and thus mas-
tered the "Orient," so, too, did it define itself. And in the process, the Balkans,
which in the seventeenth century were regarded as decidedly "Oriental," morphed
first into "European Turkey" and, finally, into part of "Europe," albeit a hazy and
ill-defined part. The supposedly "alien" nature of the Balkans-an alienness and
estrangement most famously and vividly dramatized (and romanticized) in the
works of Lord Byron-derives not from their distance from Western Europe but
rather their proximity to it. This, yet again, is a departure from the Orient with
which Said is concerned, where the intimacy of its estrangement from the West
derives from Western academic and political knowledge of and mastery over an
alien other, not from any perceived sense of deep similarity to it. In the Balkan
instance, intimacy derives precisely from such a perception of similarity, while
estrangement stems from the awkwardnessand ill ease with which that similarity is
greeted.
The Balkans stand as Europe's resident alien, an internal other that is an affront
and challenge by virtue of its claim to be part of the West, as well as by its apparent
ability to dramatically affect Western history. So it is, for instance, that commen-
tators have long been flummoxed by the fact that such a seemingly "wretched"and
irrelevant part of the world can have been the cause of a major global conflict: "It
is an unhappy affront to human and political nature that these wretched and
unhappy little countries in the Balkan peninsula can, and do, have quarrels that
cause world wars. Some hundred and fifty thousand young Americans died because
of an event in 1914 in a mud-caked primitive village, Sarajevo."29Would so many
deaths have seemed less senseless, one wonders, had the chain of events that led to
them been set in motion in Paris or in London? John Gunther, the author of these
words, was writing on the eve of World War II-at a time when the Balkans were
being blamed for other conflicts, as well, and a time also when the Habsburgs and
the Ottomans had already begun to fade from memory-and thus when one could
28 (Athens, 1992).
Elli Skopetea, I Dysi tisAnatolis: Eikones apo to telos tis OthomanikisAuttokwatorias
29 John Gunther, Inside Europe, rev. edn. (New York, 1937), 437.
no longer imagine a time when the Balkans might have seemed somehow central.30
The present political environment has given rise to a new version of the same sort
of rhetoric; Eagelburger's attitude (see above) is not far removed from that of
Gunther.
It is unclear whether the Balkans are the East or the West, but unclear, too, is just
what counts as Balkan. On the eve of World War I, Turkey was decidedly "Balkan"
(it no longer is), as was Greece (it is now trying hard not to be); Hungary sometimes
was (now it never is). "Balkan," clearly, is as much a conceptual designator as a
geographic one, and just as its contours have changed over history, so, too, has the
entire category shifted between East and West. The Balkans now are, albeit
grudgingly,unanimously agreed to be in the West (that is, in Europe), whereas they
used to be relegated to the East (the "Orient"). The eastern and southeastern
reaches of Europe, in fact, were Western Europe's first Orient, and seventeenth and
eighteenth-century continental attitudes toward them provided a template for how
Western Europe would ultimately perceive the entire non-Western world. In
InventingEastern Europe: The Map of Civilizationon the Mind of the Enlightenment,
Larry Wolff explains Eastern Europe's role as an internal "other": "It was Eastern
Europe's ambiguous location, within Europe but not fully European, that called for
such notions as backwardness and development to mediate between the poles of
civilization and barbarism. In fact, Eastern Europe in the eighteenth century
provided Western Europe with its first model of underdevelopment, a concept that
we now apply all over the globe."31 Traian Stoianovich's Balkan Worlds:The First
and Last Europe takes us back to a still earlier paradigm for Europe, reminding us
that the current, Northern definition (which regards the Balkans with ambivalence),
is relatively new, dating from the founding of modern history as a field some 500
years ago. Before that, "Europe," by the Southern, Greek definition, was first
equivalent to mainland Greece, then later to the "entire northern land mass of
which Greece was a part."32Anything northwest of the Balkan peninsula was thus
outside of Europe. By Wolff's argument, then, the Balkans provided Europe's first
experience of the other (and thus concretized the Western category of "Europe"),
while by Stoianovich's the Balkans were the first Europe. Both make effective use
of the distinctive geographic and cognitive liminality of the Balkans as the point of
departure for their work.
Said has alerted us to the fact that the "Orient" is less an actual place than a
frame of mind, and he defines it in fact not as a territory but as a mode of thought.
But this does not mean that more or less any place can be de facto Oriental. Said
writes, "The Orient that appears in Orientalism, then, is a system of representa-
tions."33It is precisely this dimension of his work that has led to such widespread
use (and abuse) of his interpretive model across a wide array of disciplines and
fields, among them those concerned with the Balkans.34The "Balkans"that appear
30 Todorova, Imagining the Balkans, 119.
31 Wolff, InventingEastern Europe, 9.
32 Traian Stoianovich, Balkan Worlds:The First and Last Europe
(Armonk, N.Y., 1994), 2-3.
33 Said, Orientalism,202-03.
34 On Said's own multiple definitions of "Orientalism,"see Aijaz Ahmad, "Orientalism and After:
Ambivalence and Cosmopolitan Location in the Work of Edward Said,"Economic and Political Weekly
(July 25, 1992): 98-116.
intentions, discipline and desire, representation and reality, and so on. Violating
disciplinaryborders and transgressing authoritative historical frontiers, Orientalism
unsettled received categories and modes of understanding."37
It is in this broad regard-its call to interdisciplinarity-that Said's work has the
most to offer to the study of southeastern Europe. In fact, the particularities of
Balkan history and geography make interdisciplinarityindispensable. Kitromilides,
for instance, is explicit in his views regarding the virtues of an interdisciplinary
approach to the study of the Balkans. He argues that not only is such a method
desirable, but the specifics of the Balkan case render it imperative as well. "In [the]
task [of historicizing the origins of Balkan nationalism] the method has to be
genuinely interdisciplinary . . . As a matter of fact, nationalism constitutes one of
those fields of social science research whose fluidity and invertebrateness make
interdisciplinarity imperative."38Kitromilides's work, much of which is concerned
with challenging various theories of nationalism, particularlyas they are applied to
the Balkans, thus identifies the field of Balkan history as singularly well-suited to
interdisciplinary investigation (even as he laments the fact that most Anglophone
historians seem ignorant not just regarding Balkan history but Balkan historiogra-
phy of the Balkans, as well). The work of Gourgouris, too, to provide but one more
example among many, illustrates the use of interdisciplinarity to the study of the
Balkans. Gourgouris's apt observation, "Much like anthropological and ethno-
graphic subjects interrogated since the invasion of these disciplines, the inhabitants
of modern Greece were subjected to so much discursive bombardment about the
nature of their being as to learn to respond in accordance with the expectations of
the questioners," is clearly part of a broader inquiry, catalyzed largely by Said,
concerned with the business of documenting the so-called other, and highly
dependent on an interdisciplinaryapproach.39Prakash'sassessment of the source of
Orientalism's potency might well be read also as a description of the Balkans;
themselves "boundary-crossing,""boundaryless,"challenging to the categories of
Oriental and Occidental, and "transgress[iveof] authoritative historical frontiers."
The Balkans' liminal status-at the interstices between worlds, histories, and
continents-is tantamount not so much to marginality as to a sort of centrality. To
be "liminal," after all, is to be between (and overlapping) two (or more) domains,
while to be marginal is merely to be at the edges of one. The Poles have claimed
Warsaw as "the heart of Europe." Joannis Kolettis, the first prime minister of
Greece, declared in 1844 that Greece was "in the center of Europe." Other East
European and Balkan lands have made similar claims of European centrality.
Clearly, much work remains to be done in explaining the vast chasm between such
self-perceptions and the ways in which Eastern and southeastern Europe have been
discursively described by Western Europe. Can it all (or any of it) simply be
explained away as the product of Orientalism? No. "Orientalism"and "Balkanism"
are definitely not the same thing, though they certainly are mutually illuminating
categories. While it is Said who has made it possible for us to even consider such
37Gyan Prakash, "Orientalism Now," Historyand Theory34 (October 1995): 200-01.
38Paschalis Kitromilides, Enlightenment,Nationalism, Orthodoxy:Studies in the Cultureand Political
Thoughtof South-easternEurope (Aldershot, 1994), 150.
39 Stathis Gourgouris, Dream Nation: Enlightenment, Colonization, and the Institution of Modern
Greece (Stanford, Calif., 1996), 150.