The Circassian Genocide

Walter Richmond

• Publisher: Rutgers University Press
• Year: 2013
• ISBN:
  9780813569567
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: Russian History
• Index: History

Circassia was a small independent nation on the northeastern shore of the Black Sea. For no reason other than ethnic hatred, over the course of hundreds of raids the Russians drove the Circassians from their homeland and deported them to the Ottoman Empire. At least 600, 000 people lost their lives to massacre, starvation, and the elements while hundreds of thousands more were forced to leave their homeland. By 1864, three-fourths of the population was annihilated, and the Circassians had become one of the first stateless peoples in modern history. Using rare archival materials, Walter Richmond chronicles the history of the war, describes in detail the final genocidal campaign, and follows the Circassians in diaspora through five generations as they struggle to survive and return home. He places the periods of acute genocide, 1821–1822 and 1863–1864, in the larger context of centuries of tension between the two nations and updates the story to the present day as the Circassian community works to gain international recognition of the genocide as the region prepares for the 2014 Winter Olympics in Sochi, the site of the Russians’ final victory.

1

“The Plague Was Our Ally”

“We have never known the Russians,” they say, “but with weapons in their hands.”

—Édouard Taitbout de Marigny

A Caucasus Vendetta

In June 1808 Izmail-Bey Atazhukin, a Kabardian nobleman and colonel in the Russian Imperial Army, asked for permission to cross a quarantine line from Fort Konstantinovskaya into Kabardia with a shipment of desperately needed salt. Technically, anyone who wanted to cross the line was supposed to undergo a twenty-day “quarantine,” but Atazhukin had already been in the fortress since March. Under the circumstances, fort commander Major-General Veryovkin saw no reason to detain him. So when he crossed the quarantine line into Kabardia, Atazhukin couldn’t possibly have conceived of the reign of terror that would strike his people as a result of his trip.1

Atazhukin and his family were in many ways a microcosm of Kabardia’s troubled relationship with Russia. As the son of a powerful pshi, he was sent as a boy to St. Petersburg as an ataman, that is, a hostage, to ensure his clan’s loyalty to Russia. Despite his father’s strong anti-Russian sentiments, he and his brother Adil-Girey both joined the Russian army and served with distinction. Then in 1795 both Atazhukins were arrested and charged with “unreliability.”2 Izmail-Bey believed that anti-Russian forces in Kabardia conspired with Caucasus commander in chief Ivan Gudovich to undermine the brothers’ efforts to establish peace between Kabardia and Russia.3 In 1798 Adil-Girey escaped and became the leader of the anti-Russian movement, but Izmail-Bey still believed Kabardia’s future lay with Russia and repeatedly petitioned for release.

When Alexander I came to power in 1801, he granted Atazhukin amnesty and in 1803 promoted him to colonel. Now Atazhukin believed he could contribute to Russo-Circassian relations, so he submitted “A Note on the Disorder on the Caucasus Line and Methods to End It” to the Russian minister of internal affairs, Viktor Kochubey. In it he argued that “we will never pacify the mountain peoples through force,” and he proposed developing a working relationship with the Kabardian nobility, who were respected throughout Circassia. In turn, they would influence the other tribes, and peace would gradually be established.4 In the summer of 1804 Alexander sent Izmail-Bey and his “Note” to the new Caucasus commander in chief, Pavel Tsitsianov, who called Atazhukin’s proposal to remove Cossack stanitsy (fortified villages) from Kabardia “unworkable.”5 The “Note” was forgotten.

Next Izmail-Bey tried to work for peace from the Kabardian side, calling for a hase in early 1805. Threats on his life from anti-Russian forces (perhaps in his own family) compelled him to flee Kabardia for a time, but he was finally able to address his fellow citizens in May. He issued a plea for moderation and a dire warning of Russia’s military potential: “The wealth, forces, and might of the Russian state are unbelievable. There are thirty-six million people, and if the government chooses it could mobilize a third of them. Living alongside a powerful neighbor, we should direct all our efforts toward self-preservation and peaceful use of our land. Believe me, my dear compatriots, if you haven’t lost your senses, we must not provoke such a powerful neighbor.”6 Much of Atazhukin’s speech was devoted to enumerating the advantages of a close relationship with Russia. However, the Kabardian aristocracy rejected his proposal and he returned to the Russian command empty-handed. Next he tried to persuade individual clans that were leaning toward Russia to promote peace, an activity that Tsitsianov called “more dangerous to us than helpful.”7 Undaunted, he renewed his efforts after Tsitsianov’s death in 1806 and continued to be a voice for peace and cooperation up until June 1808, when he crossed the quarantine line.

By the time of Atazhukin’s trip the military command in the North Caucasus was in a rather pathetic state. Shortly after Napoleon destroyed the Russian army at Austerlitz in 1805, Emperor Alexander found himself at war with both Iran and the Ottoman Empire, and another war with France seemed inevitable. Running short of qualified officers, the tsar appointed aging general Sergei Bulgakov as field commander of the Caucasus Line. Bulgakov apparently took personal offense at Atazhukin’s crossing of the quarantine line and sent an angry letter to Caucasus commander in chief Ivan Gudovich, who considered the crossing a nonissue: Atazhukin was a Russian officer and had been granted permission. Bulgakov pleaded his case to Defense Minister Alexei Arakcheev, but again Gudovich stepped in to defend Atazhukin. Bulgakov became Atazhukin’s mortal enemy, and because of this unjustified hatred of his fellow officer, he unleashed a catastrophic reign of terror on the Kabardian people.

The Kabardians, who had been allies with Russia since 1557, had watched their friendly relations with their powerful neighbor deteriorate for some time. Ever since Peter the Great had set his sights on conquest of Iran, Russia’s rulers stopped looking at the peoples of the North Caucasus as neighbors and began treating them as subjects waiting to be conquered. The first clear sign of this new attitude came with the Treaty of Belgrade, which concluded the Russo-Turkish War of 1736–1739. During the negotiations—to which the Kabardians were not invited—Kabardia was stripped of its status as Russia’s ally and declared a “neutral” buffer state between the two empires. Furthermore, while neither the Russians nor the Ottomans were permitted under the treaty to meddle in Kabardian affairs, both powers had the authority to take hostages and punish the Kabardians if they had “cause for complaint.”8 The actual effect of the treaty was to leave Kabardia completely defenseless against aggression from either side.

Accompanying Russia’s new attitude toward the Kabardians was a change in administrative style. In 1719 Peter appointed Artemy Volynsky governor of the newly formed Astrakhan Province, east of Kabardia. Historian Michael Khodarkovsky describes Volynsky as “an embodiment of that arrogance of power which reflected the new confidence of an expanding and modernizing Russia.”9 Immediately after Volynsky’s arrival, Russian policies became more aggressive and directed toward the eventual expansion of the empire into the Caucasus and beyond. His first project was to convince Peter of the desirability of an attack on Persia, and in 1722 Peter launched an invasion that resulted in Russia’s acquisition of a small part of the western shore of the Caspian Sea.10 Volynsky convinced Peter to construct the Kizlyar fortress on the Terek River in 1735 as a first step toward conquest of the North Caucasus, and this began the military line that would eventually stretch from the Crimean Peninsula to the Caspian Sea. Volynsky also ignored Russia’s longstanding treaty with Kabardia. Pshi Arslan Kaituke repeatedly asked for assistance in repelling Crimean attacks from 1718 to 1721, but Volynsky refused to send any troops. Realizing the Kabardians’ allies had abandoned them, the Khanate launched a major invasion, resulting in the devastation of Kabardia.11

Volynsky was succeeded by a series of commanders who treated the North Caucasus peoples as rebellious subjects. Rather than wasting resources trying to conquer them one at a time, the Caucasus command opted for a vassal system. In exchange for monetary and material assistance, a local sheikh or chieftain would pledge allegiance to Russia. This arrangement ended with the appointment of Pavel Tsitsianov as Caucasus commander in chief in 1802. Although he only held the post for four years, he set in motion the brutality that was the hallmark of subsequent Russian efforts to conquer the North Caucasus. Russian historians have nearly unanimously praised Tsitsianov: speaking of his administration in the South Caucasus, tsarist historian Vasily Potto remarked that “with [Tsitsianov’s] appointment came better times … and a complete transformation of domestic and foreign politics.”12 Writing at the turn of the twentieth century, British traveler John Baddeley praised Tsitsianov for “administrative ability of a high order, coupled with an aggressive, overbearing spirit, that served him admirably in his dealings with the native rulers, Christian as well as Mussulman.”13 American scholar Muriel Atkin holds quite a different position, claiming that Tsitsianov’s “eloquence was marred by bluster, just as his nobility of character was marred by deceit; the energy he spent was largely other peoples’; and his determination manifested itself in slaughter,” while British historian David Lang gives a more nuanced description, calling him “a renegade to his own people, but a man who, in serving Russia, dealt many a crushing blow to Georgia’s traditional enemies.”14

Oddly enough, there is truth in all of these statements, but unfortunately only Tsitsianov’s negative characteristics were emulated by his successors, particularly his brutality and almost pathological hatred of “Asiatics.” Potto reports that Tsitsianov’s method of dealing with the Caucasus peoples was based upon the belief that “the Asiatic people demand that they be treated with exceptional scorn.” And this he did. In approaching a target population, Tsitsianov “tried first of all to clarify for them in his proclamations all the immense greatness of Russia and their insignificance before her,” heaping threats and insults upon the local leaders.15 In letters to various Dagestani sheikhs, which frequently opened with the colorful salutation “untrustworthy bastards,” Tsitsianov used stock phrases such as “I thirst to wash my boots with your blood” and regularly promised to burn villages and run entire populations off their land.16 Tsitsianov had no faith in the vassal system, believing that the only effective method of ensuring the “Asiatics” would remain loyal was conquest and assimilation. Therefore, Yakov Gordin argues, his bombastic style when dealing with the Caucasus peoples was calculated to provoke them to rebellion, and he would use the rebellion as an excuse for military conquest.17 It was a pattern that would be repeated by nearly all of Tsitsianov’s successors.

Bulgakov was of the same mold as Tsitsianov, a firm believer in Russia’s superiority and contemptuous of the peoples of the Caucasus. Even before the June incident, he had targeted Atazhukin for harassment, insisting that he undergo quarantine after his return from Kabardia in March. This turned out to be a house arrest, with Atazhukin being deprived of his weapon and held until his request to return to Kabardia in June.18 This is why Veryovkin saw no problem in allowing Atazhukin to cross the quarantine line. Bulgakov saw things differently and ordered Veryovkin to hold Atazhukin for an additional twenty days, but the two of them simply ignored him.

The fact of the matter was that the Kabardians were on the verge of extinction as a result of their former ally’s actions. To control the Kabardians more effectively and prepare for eventual conquest, the Russians built the Mozdok Fortress and supporting stanitsy in Kabardia beginning in 1763.19 This disrupted and destroyed centuries-old migration routes that were essential for the survival of all the people of the region. Dozens more stanitsy and fortresses across Kabardia’s northern border resulted in more than loss of territory—it created an existential threat to North Caucasus society, whose survival depended on free migration of their herds. After their petitions were repeatedly rejected, the Kabardians had little choice but to fight back, and the war that resulted devastated their society by the beginning of the nineteenth century.

Compounding the crisis was a plague, possibly malaria or typhus, that struck the North Caucasus in April 1804. It quickly spread throughout the region, and the Kabardians were hit worst of all. Tens of thousands died, including two of their most important leaders, Izmail-Bey’s brother Adil-Girey and Ishak Abuke.20 The Russian response was predictable: a quarantine line that impeded Kabardian herds further. Disease coupled with starvation drove the entire population to the verge of annihilation. This was why Veryovkin ignored Bulgakov’s order and allowed Atazhukin’s party across the quarantine line—to save lives. Bulgakov seemed to view the plague differently, however. He turned the quarantine into a complete economic blockade of Kabardia that threatened the tribe with extinction. Weakened from hunger and disease, the Kabardians became victims of their Cossack neighbors, who raided their auls with impunity. “Our people,” a group of Kabardian pshis wrote in an appeal to the Emperor, “naked and swollen from lack of salt, have fled into the forests like hungry wild beasts.”21 Perhaps this is why Bulgakov took such a strong dislike to Atazhukin even before he crossed the quarantine line in June. His blockade of Kabardia wasn’t only to stop the spread of the plague but to physically crush the Kabardians into complete submission. This certainly seemed to be the Kabardians’ opinion of Bulgakov’s quarantine. Regional commander Ivan Del Pozzo sent him a report in early April 1807 relaying the Kabardians’ pleas and quoting the influential aristocrat Kasbulat Kilchuke’s accusation that “they want us all to die of starvation. Maybe the Emperor and the administration have decided we’re no longer needed? So be it! God knows how this will end! The result of this will be that we won’t have the ability to control raids in Kabardia or on the Russian frontier. We’re not asking you and not troubling you to give us free passage everywhere, but at least lift the quarantine enough to allow us to acquire the things we need to survive.”22 Despite Del Pozzo’s report, Bulgakov made no adjustments to the quarantine. Bulgakov had stumbled upon a strategy that would be used again and again by his successors—conquest through starvation—and Atazhukin’s humanitarian efforts ran counter to this goal.

After Atazhukin crossed the quarantine line, Bulgakov filed a series of petitions demanding that charges be brought against Atazhukin and Veryovkin. Gudovich considered the entire case nonsense, but War Minister Arakcheev took it up with the Interior Ministry. Veryovkin was arrested, but the emperor pardoned Atazhukin in February 1809, citing his “praiseworthy feats and loyalty to Russia.”23 He was assigned to duty in Georgia, and that should have been the end of the matter. However, throughout 1809 Bulgakov sent reports about a conference that he had arranged with Kabardian pshis concerning their submission, which he claimed Atazhukin sabotaged.24 Of course, Atazhukin wasn’t in Kabardia at the time, but even if he had been, he couldn’t have sabotaged the conference because there was none.25 The entire event was a fabrication Bulgakov created to trick St. Petersburg into allowing him to punish his enemy. When this failed, Bulgakov sent Atazhukin a series of letters in spring 1809, demanding pledges of unconditional loyalty from all the pshis of Kabardia. Atazhukin returned home, called a hase t...

Table of contents

• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Dedication
• Contents
• Acknowledgments
• Introduction
• 1: “The Plague Was Our Ally”
• 2: A Pawn in the Great Game
• 3: From War to Genocide
• 4: 1864
• 5: A Homeless Nation
• 6: Survival in Diaspora
• 7: Those Who Stayed Behind
• 8: The Road to Sochi
• Epilogue
• Notes
• Bibliography
• About the Author